It was a beautiful summer evening. A crowd had gathered at the park to listen to the orchestra. The Philadelphia Orchestra was performing with a good number of serious patrons seated under the massive canopy of the Mann Center. Outside the canopy, it was a different story. The atmosphere resembled a picnic with people spread out with blankets and food. Some, like me, had obtained free passes to the concert which allowed them to attend sitting in the lawn. This was my first time attending a western classical music performance. The conductor was the famous Eugene Ormandy.
.jpg?itok=EvQpLzna "Mann Center")
I knew nothing about western classical music. It seemed that I was surrounded by people who too knew little about it. It was just a great way for them to enjoy an evening in the park. The more serious audience sitting inside the sheltered area was no doubt better informed and looking forward to the event.
I was impressed with the formal attire of the orchestra and their incredible discipline and control. They have to be really alert to not miss their cues, I thought. I marvelled at the composer who was able to write the phrases for the different sections - strings, woodwind, brass and so on, and for such a large number of performers and the grand vision it took to do that. The conductor was masterful in guiding the orchestra, waving his baton like a magical wand. At one precise moment, I saw the drummer crashing the cymbals and then wait for the next such moment. When the music ended with a crescendo at one point, the audience in the peanut gallery (which included me) broke into applause. The conductor turned around, bowed, and said, 'Thank you. I hope you will find the remaining movements equally enjoyable'. I realized that we had applauded at the wrong time!
I have not repeated that mistake since mainly because I have not attended western classical concerts. While I do enjoy certain pieces, I do not have enough understanding and appreciation to sit through a full concert. I have been to a few rock concerts which of course are the very antithesis of a classical concert. People can and do sing along and dance wildly and generally make quite a racket often drowning out the music which itself is amplified to uncomfortable decibel levels. I decided after a couple of such experiences that the music is better heard on a CD player at home.
I do attend carnatic music performances regularly and enjoy them thoroughly. The atmosphere at these events is decidedly less formal than at western classical concerts. Here the audience lights are usually not turned off. I am told that carnatic performers like to be able to see the audience when they are on stage, appreciating the opportunity to interact with them. I can understand why since there is considerable improvisation. But this leads to some unintended consequences.
I don't think this happens in India, but in the US, many of the patrons bring their children along. Perhaps they are learning music themselves and can sometimes be seen making notes. Or the parents just want them to be exposed to Indian music. Many are generally busy with their smartphones. Some of the adults too seem to be doing the same thing. I have even seen some taking care of business on their laptops. If you have other things to do, why bother coming?
The serious listeners tend to sit in the front rows so that they can avoid distractions. People may be walking in out in the back frequently. There are also those engaged in intense private conversations. For some reason, they assume that their voices cannot be heard by the rest of the crowd. It is particularly annoying because everyone can hear them perfectly just at those times when the artiste is in the middle of delicate phrases. Younger children get restive and start fussing, crying, or running about. Still others are doing their homework which would be fine except that their parents get busy helping them with that. You can also see some young ones stretched out on the seats sleeping. Meanwhile, the lights shine on unconcernedly.
I do admire the artistes who seem immune to all the tamasha that is going on in the hall. How inspired would the musician feel seeing people engaged in all sorts of activities? I suppose that they focus on the serious listeners. But among these folks too, there are one or two that are overenthusiastic and get carried away. You may even find them trying to hum along. Others get very loud keeping time (talam) gesticulating with their hands raised to boot. In one concert, the mridangam player got so distracted by this that he had to stop and say, 'I am glad to see that you are keeping talam, but please do so quietly'.
Perhaps it is time to consider turning the lights off. But then I am afraid that the glow of the smartphones will take over creating a sort of disco effect. Sigh! I guess you can't win 'em all.
Picture: https://www.philorch.org/sites/default/files/styles/blog_poster_preview/public/blog/poster/Vail(ChrisLee).jpg?itok=EvQpLzna
I knew nothing about western classical music. It seemed that I was surrounded by people who too knew little about it. It was just a great way for them to enjoy an evening in the park. The more serious audience sitting inside the sheltered area was no doubt better informed and looking forward to the event.I was impressed with the formal attire of the orchestra and their incredible discipline and control. They have to be really alert to not miss their cues, I thought. I marvelled at the composer who was able to write the phrases for the different sections - strings, woodwind, brass and so on, and for such a large number of performers and the grand vision it took to do that. The conductor was masterful in guiding the orchestra, waving his baton like a magical wand. At one precise moment, I saw the drummer crashing the cymbals and then wait for the next such moment. When the music ended with a crescendo at one point, the audience in the peanut gallery (which included me) broke into applause. The conductor turned around, bowed, and said, 'Thank you. I hope you will find the remaining movements equally enjoyable'. I realized that we had applauded at the wrong time!
I have not repeated that mistake since mainly because I have not attended western classical concerts. While I do enjoy certain pieces, I do not have enough understanding and appreciation to sit through a full concert. I have been to a few rock concerts which of course are the very antithesis of a classical concert. People can and do sing along and dance wildly and generally make quite a racket often drowning out the music which itself is amplified to uncomfortable decibel levels. I decided after a couple of such experiences that the music is better heard on a CD player at home.
I do attend carnatic music performances regularly and enjoy them thoroughly. The atmosphere at these events is decidedly less formal than at western classical concerts. Here the audience lights are usually not turned off. I am told that carnatic performers like to be able to see the audience when they are on stage, appreciating the opportunity to interact with them. I can understand why since there is considerable improvisation. But this leads to some unintended consequences.
I don't think this happens in India, but in the US, many of the patrons bring their children along. Perhaps they are learning music themselves and can sometimes be seen making notes. Or the parents just want them to be exposed to Indian music. Many are generally busy with their smartphones. Some of the adults too seem to be doing the same thing. I have even seen some taking care of business on their laptops. If you have other things to do, why bother coming?
The serious listeners tend to sit in the front rows so that they can avoid distractions. People may be walking in out in the back frequently. There are also those engaged in intense private conversations. For some reason, they assume that their voices cannot be heard by the rest of the crowd. It is particularly annoying because everyone can hear them perfectly just at those times when the artiste is in the middle of delicate phrases. Younger children get restive and start fussing, crying, or running about. Still others are doing their homework which would be fine except that their parents get busy helping them with that. You can also see some young ones stretched out on the seats sleeping. Meanwhile, the lights shine on unconcernedly.
I do admire the artistes who seem immune to all the tamasha that is going on in the hall. How inspired would the musician feel seeing people engaged in all sorts of activities? I suppose that they focus on the serious listeners. But among these folks too, there are one or two that are overenthusiastic and get carried away. You may even find them trying to hum along. Others get very loud keeping time (talam) gesticulating with their hands raised to boot. In one concert, the mridangam player got so distracted by this that he had to stop and say, 'I am glad to see that you are keeping talam, but please do so quietly'.
Perhaps it is time to consider turning the lights off. But then I am afraid that the glow of the smartphones will take over creating a sort of disco effect. Sigh! I guess you can't win 'em all.
Picture: https://www.philorch.org/sites/default/files/styles/blog_poster_preview/public/blog/poster/Vail(ChrisLee).jpg?itok=EvQpLzna
