An Evening at the Santa Fe Symphony
Describing my physical reaction to a live symphonic performance
I have been craving live classical music all year. Finally the Santa Fe Symphony kicked off their first live performance in 18 months. I took the drive to Santa Fe from Albuquerque in the early afternoon and was treated to one of those deep blue skies with puffy southwestern clouds dispersed here and there across the infinitely wide horizon. It reminded me of the New Mexico skies in some of Georgia O’Keefe’s paintings. That’s what it’s really like.
Masked for the occasion, I found my seat in the Lensic Performing Arts Center. I treated myself to a seat in the orchestra section that was far to the back on the aisle. I had a perfect view of center stage as the seats were all lined up in a way that it wasn’t necessary to look at the back of anyone’s head from my location. It is a small place with only 17 rows in the orchestra section, so I was very close to the stage. I looked around the auditorium and smiled to myself as I realized that I had forgotten the beauty of the 1931 art-deco Lensic. Clearly it had been too long.
A dozen brass instruments walked onstage, arranged themselves in a semi-circle, and played the first piece. I closed my eyes as the tones flowed over me and I swayed just a little bit to the deeper notes that were prominent in the melody. I opened my eyes and I clearly saw that those notes came from the bass trombone. I happen to be friends with this musician, so my smile broadened at the thought that it was his music that reached out to me.
The guest violinist who performed with the entire symphony intrigued me. I had never heard this violinist before. He stood at the podium wearing an American Indian inspired black shirt and black cowboy boots. How appropriate for Santa Fe. Young, he absolutely could not stand still as his torso and shoulders leaned into each note, dragging the bow across the strings. Most violinists do this movement as they play but their movements usually come stiffly from the waist. This man was rather tall and limber so each of his movements seemed to start at his shins, pass his knees, curve at the hips and end with a flourish of his chin.
To soak in the frequencies of the live music I closed my eyes again. Something physical happened to me. It was like a small, short dose of mania that came over me. Quickly, one idea after another popped into my brain. My muse broke out in a dance somewhere close to my ear. He seemed to be buzzing around my head clicking off something for every concept that had been toying with my consciousness. In a few minutes I had solutions that address the problems I had been trying to solve, I had actions for projects that have been stuck, I saw photos that I must capture with my camera, I had words that must be put down. I realized that I had been holding my breath. Opening my eyes I let out that breath slowly. Finally normalcy returned during the standing ovation.
For me it is a physical reaction. No, it wasn’t just the violinist! I always feel this rush when I am surrounded by the music of a symphony. This is why I love sitting in an audience and allowing the intricate music to wash over my whole body.
I don’t know what it could possibly be that physically happens to me, but for a short time I feel like I’ve solved the problems of the world.
