From Mozart to Brahms and Back Again

So here we have it.  Attending the symphony, I have decided, is the haven of all people-watching.  Get there a little early, snuggle into your seat with someone you love, and prepare for a slightly better-dressed event of people-watching that can be compared only to the New York subway on New Years at midnight.  Strange people, nice people, scared people, happy people.  They got 'em all.  Once you have taken your seat, and are armed with your information pamphlet, you can begin to get into the act. 

The act, of course, is to play the game of who is the best dressed, the richest, the youngest, the biggest age gap between a couple (this one's fun), who is the strangest-dressed, who is the strangest-dressed but pulls it off.  It's all up for enjoyment.  But let this be a warning:  For those of you readers who did not know this about symphonies, be prepared to partake in this game whether you want to or not.  People watching is a sport for all, by all.  You cannot decide to not take part, for everyone else there is playing along.  You are being watched whether you like it or not.  Isn't it glorious? 

This particular evening, January 28 at the Marin Symphony, was as much of an amazing night as "A Night at the Symphony" was, but for very different reasons.

On its own, the night was set in two different themes.  The first half, Mozart's Requiem with choir, was a very sedative mode of classical listening.  I believe I fell asleep, not as the man in the chair from the SF Chronicle, but as an attentive meditator, being encompassed by the sounds of human voices and machine sounds to turn my waking stage of life into the dreamlike reality we sometimes experience early in the morning while trying to shake off our nightly adventures. 

With four soloists, man-woman-man-woman, tenor-soprano-bass-alto, there was nothing missing in the realm of vocal symphonic majesty.  Mozart truly knew how to mix styles.  The classical, almost Gregorian model of musical interpretation is so wonderfully tied into the slightly modern romantic orchestra that it is hard to see how they are different styles. 

Then comes the intermission.  The choir leaves.  I drank some water. 

Act two: Brahms making everything amazing again.

Vadim Gluzman, an Israeli violinist, is incredible.  Much like Mozart, he is from two different eras.  Described as a classical buff, with the energy of a contemporary performer, Vadim commanded the stage.  He was really present, the entire time he was there.  Feeding off the orchestra, using the nuances of his fellow violinists to one-up and complement the sounds being expressed, he was in true form. 

Using his bow as a baton, Gluzman and the conductor were one entity while Gluzman prepared for his solos.  Playing together with the orchestra, he and they were one entity, becoming all of the musicians sitting in their chairs.  And as for his solos, he was the entity, commanding the stage and all the sounds that came forth.  Alasdair Neale was once again in top form. His connection to his work and his people chimes through always in his performances, and tonight was no exception. 

EBAC thanks the Marin Symphony for access to this concert.