American Pie: A Night At The Symphony - Florida Style
...Our first foray into the Florida cultural scene was interesting to me on several different levels. In a part of the US where shorts and ‘T’ shirts are de rigueur for men, and for many women, it was a treat to see the ladies dressed in all their finery. Though the largest proportion of them would not see seventy again, they looked elegant and handsome in their long dresses, sparkling jewelry and beautifully coifed hair...
John Merchant enjoys an evening with Schubert and Beethoven - give or take the odd note.
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On a recent Saturday night, my wife and I attended the opening season performance of the Southwest Florida Symphony Orchestra. The concert was preceded by a reception and cocktail party to welcome the new conductor, Michael Hall, only the fourth in the Orchestra’s forty-seven year history. It was a very nice affair, with copious amounts of wine and champagne, and a seemingly endless variety of canapés.
Our attendance marked the initiation of our plan to reconnect with live performances; sadly lacking in our lives these past several years. Though we lived near to New York City until our move to Florida, the almost two-hour train ride was just a smidge too far on a cold winter’s night. In any case, both of us had long commutes to our jobs, so the last thing we wanted to do was more traveling on the weekend. Now, we have the luxury of living a mere thirty minutes drive from a splendid concert hall, and a couple of other performing arts centers.
Our first foray into the Florida cultural scene was interesting to me on several different levels. In a part of the US where shorts and ‘T’ shirts are de rigueur for men, and for many women, it was a treat to see the ladies dressed in all their finery. Though the largest proportion of them would not see seventy again, they looked elegant and handsome in their long dresses, sparkling jewelry and beautifully coifed hair.
The consensus amongst them seemed to be black ensembles with white accents; a strange sight on an eighty plus degree, sub-tropical night, with the humidity hovering in the upper seventies. But fortunately the air conditioning could cope. The gentlemen showed the usual, grudging sartorial deference accorded any formal occasion in Florida. They had clearly unearthed the one suit they possessed, many of which looked as though they had been packed in a suitcase since last winter.
A few stoics sported a tie, and had obviously consumed a good few calories since they last buttoned their shirt collars. The apoplectic look was everywhere to be seen. A brave minority had gone hog-wild with the full tuxedo treatment – God bless them. Some of the gents appeared to need practice at walking in dress shoes after the summer hiatus. Between the food and the wine and the people watching, the real reason for being there, the concert, stood a chance of being overshadowed.
During the reception we were briefly addressed by the new conductor, after which, those who chose to could listen to a talk on the principle piece to be played that night, Beethoven’s Symphony Number 9, the Ode to Joy. The concert proper started with an all Schubert first half – the Rosamunde Overture, followed by three Lieder. During the intermission I began to wonder whether the Beethoven mightn’t be a bit of a stretch for a provincial orchestra, and so it was.
Comparisons are odious, goes the saying, but these days we are regularly exposed to the finest orchestras in the world through TV. OK, so it isn’t like being there, but with a good, high definition TV and a top notch surround-sound system, it comes awful close, and in many respects it is better, given the poor acoustics of many concert halls. Sitting in my reclining chair I have the very best seat in the house, and I don’t have to stand in line for a drink at intermission.
My first experiences of live classical music concerts were as a teenage member of the Halle Orchestra Listeners Club. That raised the bar pretty high. Every other weekend, this outstanding aggregation, under the baton of Maestro Sir John Barbirolli, performed in my hometown in England. Other orchestras stood in when the Halle was on tour, and occasionally there’d be a guest conductor. As members of the Listener’s Club we were permitted to attend rehearsals, which was an unforgettable experience. Sir John’s obituary in the London Times says it all: “a virtuoso conductor in the tradition of those spellbinding artists who made the conductor the centre of popular devotion for concertgoers in the twentieth century." Yes indeed.
But withal, that was then and this is now. I will happily support our local band, and anticipate deriving much pleasure from my nights on the town – Florida style. I’ll enjoy the meeting and greeting, the nibbling and sipping, and hope that the winter evenings are cooler, and that the orchestra won’t often bite off more than it can chew.
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