So I turn on the TV and there’s an orchestra playing. I’m having an IM conversation with another blogger (hi Steve!) at the time, and I confess; I can tell it’s Shostakovich, but heck if I can name which symphony. How LAME is THAT? I’m so bad with names and numbers. But I finally figure it out. And I do love this symphony. (I can’t remember the last time I’ve played it.) The audience (I believe this is a Prom concert) claps between movements. OK. Whatever. I wouldn’t clap between some of these, but I’m the sort who thinks some works call for absolute silence even at the very end. Our hearts are too heavy, or we are too moved to ruin the moment with applause. That’s just the way I am.
The principal oboist holds her oboe higher than I do. Reed differences? I wonder. The clarinetist moves sideways, as I’ve seen other clarinetists do. What is it about those players? Oboists don’t move side to side. Go figure.
Lots of sleeveless women in the orchestra. Arms. I don’t like to see arms. I’m silly that way.
Why do the women wear no sleeves while the men have to wear jackets? Yikes.
Okay … now there is one part of this work that always reminds me of Oklahoma (the musical, not the state). Does anyone else get that? I mean … I hear “poor Judd” singing “The floor creaks, the door squeeks” … is this just me?
But I think it’s time to be quiet and listen. This piece really calls for less typing and more listening. You know?
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