Driving 4 hours to hear the horn section

Is an hour of Schubert worth 8 hours of driving? Yes, if you’re sitting here:

Leave at 9:15 am. No traffic? Arrive in Arlington at 1 for brunch. Food is ok, I guess. More young hip people here than in our entire county at home!

Turn a 10-minute drive to the Kennedy Center into 30 minutes by missing turns and crawling through Georgetown—where did all these people come from? It’s below freezing!

Approach the Kennedy Center. Jamal Khashoggi way runs past the Saudi Arabian embassy? Wow.

Stop in the middle of the road (there’s no one behind me right?): parking garage A this way, B and C this way: I don’t know which one to go to! What does my prepaid ticket—accessible only on a website with a password I totally remember choosing, sure—say? Hurry! Nothing? Jeez, I guess we’ll go to B/C. Maybe I shoulda looked at a map?

Park and shuffle in the right direction along with everyone else. It really wasn’t that hard.

We’re inside. What a dark entry way! Want some jewelry from the gift shop(?)? What about a $16 premium spirit? $.25 mimosas at brunch were good enough.

A little more shuffling. Beep. “You’re up one flight of stairs on the left.” A little more shuffling. Well now where? Probably not the Israeli Lounge. Can you point us towards these seats please? Box 61 seats 1 and 2? Her face lights up: you have the very best seats in the house. Thank you so much, I hoped you’d say that, that is exactly why we came.

Oh it’s perfect: the horns are pointed right at me. Check out that passage on the score for the harp: I can’t read music, but even I can hear what that’s going to sound like.

Turn off phone. That always makes me a little anxious.

Noseda launches straight into Ethel Smyth, Overture to the Wreckers: oh my god, it’s loud. And so clear. I had forgotten just how clear. Even the violists across the stage have their distinct place in the sound laid out in front of us. But the brass and percussion are SO loud. Of course it’s completely imbalanced: revenge of the non-strings! Exactly why we came here—yes, this is perfect. My ears are ringing.

Lean over: don’t worry, that was the loudest piece today. But I don’t think we’ll be able to hear the violin very well in the concerto from here!

Gil Shaham enters: enormous smile on his face as he greets the concertmaster. I love the opening of the Dvořák. We CAN hear the violin! Sometimes, anyway. Suddenly we are in the slow movement: after several listens that still takes me by surprise.

YES! I was waiting all week for that moment from the horns. And I don’t think they’ve made a mistake all afternoon so far: how?!

Remember to listen to Shaham when you can: what does it sound like that I can’t hear on my headphones? Great, he’s turned towards us a bit—thank you sir—the violin is not so screechy an instrument after all is it?

Uh oh, the imbalance is costing us in the third movement. Shaham is having fun—the folks in the first few rows are transfixed, too. I can listen through the imbalance for the melody, but what if I hadn’t heard this before? Attention would waver. He’s stomping now! Boom, it’s over, and he and Noseda and the concertmaster are in raptures! We are denied an encore—he needs to rest to prepare for the Mason Bates premiere next week I guess.

We have our own bathrooms here—luxurious. Excited chatter among us fortunate stage-box sitters: I’m not outgoing, but must interject: yes, aren’t these seats absolutely unique? Such detail from the winds!

I wasn’t here for Smith or Dvořák. I am here to imagine I am Robert Schumann hearing Schubert’s ninth for the first time. We have lost two of our horns, I’m afraid: and the brilliant energetic principal oboist has ceded her spot for the second half it seems.

Ah now Maestro Noseda is talking. But why did he mention the year 1809? His enthusiasm is sincere: that is all that matters in these conductor previews, surely.

The Schubert begins—the 8 hours of driving was worth merely the opening statement of the horn.

Oh wow, this is an incredible fast pace for the allegro.

The end of the exposition approaches: the usual slight anxiety, surely he must observe the repeat . . . yes, there it is. We’ve returned to the wonderful trombone-delivered theme—only Lachner did anything similar—but Noseda is gesturing at them, a bit louder! I’m not sure they responded! Or maybe I’m a little too far from them?

The development is short, I had forgotten how short: but again a lack of dynamic contrast in the brass? Am I crazy?

The fast pace continues into the coda, just like I like it: but I don’t think I’m crazy, there is a decided restraint between the trombones and our two horns. It’s ok—but occasionally the brass can explode, even in the early 19th Century, right? This is nothing like the overture—nor should it be—but maybe a little louder? Is my juvenile taste too used to the brash brass of the period instrument crews? It’s true that our Maestro never looks at the horns: poor folks.

I adore the timpanist, and we can hear every single note.

Is the second movement going to be too long? I’m anxious: but no, I enjoy every second. But again am I imagining that there is a bit of restraint in that incomparable climax? I don’t know!

The violins revel in the scherzo: and the 6 double basses are forceful. That seems like a good number given the relatively small size of the string sections today. Do the woodwinds sound just a tiny bit thin in the delicious trio? I don’t think that’s their fault, though.

The finale is here, my favorite movement; supposedly the violinists laughed at Mendelssohn when he showed them the score. No exposition repeat this time, but almost no one observes that (Norrington does!). Glorious trombone-led cadence again, and more gesturing by Noseda. We are hurtling along: again the woodwinds sound a little thin while trying to keep up the propulsion, but I think that’s sometimes Schubert’s fault! I urge myself to ingest every impression, because this will be over soon.

Now it is the crazy coda: now I demand that the horns blare out their final pre-finale statement that Schubert keeps interrupting—but no, there is no dynamic contrast at all. In fact the highlight of the second half of the concert, for those of us with the horns pointed at us, was that opening statement 50 minutes ago. Every detail was present, but my ears never quite hurt with volume. That is surely a problem with my taste—but the folks in the back of the orchestra seating section might have appreciated a little more brass as well, I think? The applause isn’t quite as enthusiastic as for Mr. Shaham, maybe, but of course it IS a long piece. I enjoyed every second: but when I come back, it’ll be for Mahler, Bruckner, Shostakovich, or some ambitious premiere!

We file out quickly, no need to bang our hands together with the locals: and we’re on the interstate again 5 minutes after the finale! Driving here was TOO easy!

What’s that, Bojangles is out of tea? Virginia is a sad place!