Every summer for the last seventy years, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra has performed at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl. This outdoor venue has the correct acoustics which any performing musician would relish. The orchestra does four performances, each with a varied theme and guest conductor or soloist. To hear the likes of Beethoven, Mozart, or a Mendelssohn on a breezy, warm summer's night under the stars is joyful and, for me, an utterly incredible experience.
We
arrived around six, and there were people everywhere, eating and
drinking their respective picnic suppers and enjoying the sea breeze
that had been conspicuously absent for almost a week. Melbourne has
had an extended hot summer, and the natives have started to complain
because constant heat and humidity can drive a saint to a life of
crime: weather-wise, a perfect night, despite the massive
crowd.
Walking
through the crowd, we made our way to the front of the stage in hopes
of possibly finding two seats close to the orchestra. Considering the
number of people, finding such seats was next to none.
Then something strange and wonderful happened, a little old lady, at
least eighty years young, grabbed my friend by the sleeve and
asked,
"Darling, are you two meeting anyone?"
"" No,
we're looking for some good seats."
She
smiled and said, "Come with me."
We
followed her through the isles, dodging people and those unawares,
where she led us to the fourth row, dead center; seats that in normal
circumstances would have cost us $250 a ticket!
The
Good Samaritan's friend appeared slightly younger and pleased that her friend had found us to sit next to them and
experience the concert. Once we were seated, both
ladies returned to reading their books with the significant
type: easier reading for tired eyes. Interestingly, they felt content that we were there, sitting next to them, someone to share
the glory of the music.
As
the time approached seven o'clock, the orchestra began to meander
to their spots, warming up to their instruments. I love that sound of
the strings tuning together, a universal sound that we are about to
hear something magnificent.
The
stage lights slowly rose, and the conductor, the world-renowned Oleg
Caetani, a maestro, who conducted his first symphony at the age of
seventeen, came on stage, bowed, turned to the orchestra, lifting his
hands, the music began…
They
began with the Overture from Donna Diana's opera, by Emil Nikolaus
von Reznicek. This is music that I have never heard before, told that
his music now is being rediscovered and played again…as it should
because this particular Overture is so dramatic yet sensitive and
technically, from my view, sophisticated.
The
next piece came from the popular Percy Grainger, an Australian, who
won critical and widespread acclaim for his work internationally. Born
in Australia in 1882, he studied music to travel to Europe and found
the study of folk tunes an inspiration; the folk tune had significant
meaning for Grainger, and the song performed, Green Bushes, seemed to
me to be a combination of Celtic, German and Polish influences. So again, this is a piece of music that instantly makes you feel right with the world no matter your
circumstances.
For me, the peak of the night was the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E
minor, Op. 64…this has always, since a little boy, been a memorable
and emotional piece of music.
Mendelssohn
had always wanted to write the perfect violin concerto for his
friend, Ferdinand David, leader of the Gewandhaus Orchestra,
Mendelssohn wrote,
"I
should also like to write a violin concerto for you next winter. One
in E minor runs in my head. The beginning which gives me no
peace."
Just
over six years after this letter was sent, he finished the concerto,
sending the final draft to David.
This
is a moving piece of music, sending one from the depths of sadness to
the heights of ecstasy, a kind of 'beautiful sadness.' This music
can send you to a truly wonderful place. As a little boy, I still
remember the melody's images conjured…that of snow, so much
white, more whiteness, cold and suffering, but a feeling of Noble
suffering.
Sophie
Rowell is a violinist of the highest order. To play any instrument,
no matter what genre of music, seeing and hearing someone who has mastered their tool of expression is inspiring and converting a spiritual experience most profoundly and honestly. To be
really honest, seeing her play brought me to tears…and awe…up and
down the emotional scale like a schizoid off their medication. In all
my years, I have never experienced such acute feelings in
response to a piece of music. Sophie was absolutely a marvel,
performing Mendelssohn as if the composition was her very own.
When
the thirty-minute piece ended, not surprisingly, the audience went
wild…." Bravo, Bravo…" And of course, Sophie came out for a
second bow….amazing!
My
friend and I left without speaking one word. Walking
through the park under a star-lit night, words felt unnecessary, superfluous, our minds and souls submerged in the music.
It was only much later that we began to converse, one-word
utterances…wow, beautiful, unexpected, moving…
My
night ended with the head finally hitting the pillow after a very
long day…as Mendelssohn wafted in the air, falling to sleep.
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