Do Not Drink With Violinists

Kennedy Center   1.13.2011

Classical musicians are a bunch of miscreants. I feel comfortable saying this because one of the dearest people in my life is a classical musician. Tim, Jarrod's oldest friend, is a professional violinist. He was the best man in our wedding. His dad, a Methodist preacher, performed our ceremony. While giving the best man speech it became abundantly clear to Tim that all of the embarrassing stories he was in the middle of telling were actually about him.  Jarrod just happened to be there. I would love to share some of these stories with you, but Tim has a reputation to uphold because he is a civilized, put together, austere classical musician. Ha. I would like to state for the record that one of my not so proudest moments involving beer and an empty stomach was with Tim and his musician friends during a party at the University of Maryland.  They were there attending an orchestral seminar. Stuffy, right? I wish I could say that I was just a dumb college kid and did not know my limits. Oh no, I had been out of college for several years. An adult. Arguably. Watch out for classical musicians. They are a dangerous bunch indeed.

So knowing what I do about classical musicians, or at least the musicians I have been exposed to, it is astounding how such a motley crew can command a room when you put them together, instruments in hand on a wooden chunk of floor raised above hundreds of uncomfortable chairs. This was my first time at the Kennedy Center. I have lived in DC for over 8 years. Sad, I know. But I am just not that type of girl, or so I had thought.

Tonight's National Symphony Orchestra performance featured a 34 year old Ukrainian conductor, Kirill Karabits and a 26 year old Armenian violinist, Sergey Khachatryan. These two travel the world and play concert halls with some of the most notable orchestras. So notable, even I have heard of them. They are not 35 yet. Raise your hand if you feel like a huge underachiever. After coping with my lack of life accomplishment compared to these two, I dove into the music.

The world of classical music and those who dwell in it are completely foreign to me. No clanking of beer bottles in the background, no constant buzz of chatter to distract you from the actual performance you paid to see, and very little interaction between the musicians and the audience.  They are above us.  And man, was it quiet.  So quiet that I heard the familiar growling of Jarrod's stomach to my right (He told me he had a sandwich before he met up with me. Apparently it was not enough) and the snoring of the gentleman who was obviously not there on his own volition to my left.

Despite somewhat uncharted territory and feeling slightly out of place, I was able to get caught up in the music. I was most intrigued by how so many people (however many people there are in an orchestra)...a mass of musicians can play their various instruments together so quietly. One flick of Mr. overachieving-Ukrainian conductor's wrist, and they dropped to a whisper. I scanned the stage expecting to see movement from only a select group of musicians to indicate they were still playing, but I was amazed to see very few of them motionless. . . at rest.

As a classical music novice what I struggled with most was when in the hell do you get to clap? I found myself moved by something in particular and leaned over to Jarrod and asked, "Can I clap?" "No." He shushed. Three minutes later, moved again... "How about now?" I asked. "Not yet." "Crap!" Keep in mind I never claimed to be classy.  At the end of the piece and not at the end of the movement (listen to me, I even picked up on the lingo) is when you get to clap.  Finally!  A release.

I wondered if classical music was  old peoples' music. This thought was dismissed when I looked over to  my left, past Mr. I Don't Want to be Here so I am Going to Sleep, and saw who I gathered was his daughter. She was no more than 12. She was at the edge of her seat, mouth agape, eyes widened, and you could tell she experienced every note. She felt the music. We exchanged glances and polite smiles and I think she too struggled with having her expressions of musical pleasure being confined to specific times. Me identifying with 12 year olds is not a rare thing. I wish her well in her classical music journey. My only piece of advice. Do not drink with violinists. Stay a safe distance away and appreciate their art.