Last Friday we had the grand opportunity to go to New York City and listen to the Philharmonic. As many of you know, Paul's father was a subscriber to the Philharmonic beginning in the 1950s. When he got old, he passed the tickets on to Paul, and we get to go to a couple of concerts a year. [The rest we sell at cost to friends -- if any of you are interested, let us know.]This year we had the opportunity to go and hear one of the most magnificent concerts we've ever had a chance to listen to -- Tchaikovsky and Dvorak.
The concert started with Lisa Batiashvili, playing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto. This is the concerto that is so hard that when Tchaikovsky created it the first violinist he asked to play it, Auer, said "no way ... that's impossible." Well ... it isn't impossible but it is damn difficult. We'd never heard it before -- either live or on a record -- and the loss was ours. For 35 minutes Batiashvili played her heart out, with power, grace and beauty. She eared the standing ovation and the 4 curtain calls she got, for sure.
After intermission, the orchestra played Dvorak's New World Symphony. That we'd heard before, of course, but never like this -- live in New York by the orchestra that premiered the piece more than 100 years ago. The power of the horns; the vibrancy of the timpani -- this was just about as pure a joy as you could imagine. It seemed less "complex" than the violin concerto, but in some ways our familiarity made it purer and more fun.
Add to all this a pleasant train ride up and back and lunch with Paul's brother, Jim, on a beautiful sunny Fall day and it is hard to imagine that anything could be more perfect. Sometimes we wonder if keeping the tickets is worth it. On day's like last Friday we don't wonder ... but we marvel at our good fortune instead.
