I haven’t told you about our trip to New York on Thursday because I just haven’t had a few moments to compose my thoughts. Thursday was not our normal subscription night but the Philharmonic was hosting a dinner for patrons with a concert to follow and, as we usually enjoy this event, we decided to go in. George was especially happy as he actually finished all his work early and did not have to go in to the office on Friday to dictate.
Unfortunately the trip did not start out terribly auspiciously. The train station was full – there was no parking – nada – nothing. We were told we would have to wait for someone to leave, a surefire way to miss a train in my book. The nearest metered or otherwise available parking space was about 4 blocks away, not option when the train was departing in 10 minutes. George spotted a bunch of parking spaces for the neighboring pub and shops but they were limited to 4 hours, and did not become available for unlimited parking until 9 PM (it was fast approaching 3:30) I figured we would have 1 ½ hours where we would risk being ticketed and paying a $50 fine, or we could drive in. George opted to drive. Later, afer we were on the Taconic, he figured that if we weren’t lucky in finding a parking spot we may pay $50 in parking and gas. We did find a spot.
In fact the trip down was uneventful and quick, downtown Po-town to Lincoln Center in about 1 hour and 40 minutes. The trip back was slower. We drove back up the Thruway as it is brighter and easier in the dark. Unfortunately we did not anticipate construction on Route 17. Since George took the driver’s seat for the return trip, it was a fine opportunity for me to knit in the bright lights of shopping-mall-alley.
But back to the concert. Dinner was fine as always. The Philharmonic is not going to skimp on its Patrons; after all it needs us to shell out the bucks. The concert was also nice although the beginning was less than promising. The first work, the Bartok Dance Suite was downright boring, a surprise for that piece which has wonderful folk-inspired melodies; it usually makes me feel like swishing away. Noseda may have been dramatically conducting but he was not moving the orchestra out of somnolence. The Britten, Sinfonia de Requiem, was better, but still not up to the quality that I would expect of an orchestra like the New York Philharmonic.
The second half of the concert was spectacular though, at least to me. I have read the review, although I was not waiting for it, and I was apparently one of those audience members who was swept off their feet by Simon Trpceski’s playing. I thought he was spectacular. Yes it is true that the Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto #3 was not as lush and romantic as it could be, probably here a combination of the youth of the pianist and the “play it safe” attitude the conductor seemed to be taking with the evening. I don’t tend to expect great emotional depth in young performers, probably a great shortcoming of mine. Still he made the piece seem easy, as if he could do it in his sleep (maybe he was asleep) and it is not an easy piece to play. And he still had force and character, he did not just hit the notes. The audience at the Philharmonic does not usually leap to its feet en masse, but it did that night; maybe we are all just swayed by a limp wrist, fast fingers, and a pretty face. If so, I joined them. I truly enjoyed the concert and it was an evening I will remember. If I was “seeing only the trees and not the forest” I don’t feel as I missed much. The evening was worthwhile for what it was and that was pretty spectacular.
I probably need to learn a lot more about music. I hope that in doing so, I don’t lose the joy of listening.