Just in the very nick of time

To the commoner, the Vienna Philharmonic is just another symphony orchestra in the world.
To the rest of the earth's population, the Vienna Philharmonic is quite possibly the finest orchestra in the world. It's been around for almost 170 years and I can assume that almost every well-known conductor has conducted the group at one time or another.

Last night, I ventured to the Konzerthaus here in Wien, to hear the Philharmonic's first concert of the season. Conducting, was the 29-year old Venezuelan man named Gustavo Dudamel. I'd say he's had a pretty successful 29 years of life so far. Good FOR him.

But whoa whoa whoa. I'm getting ahead of myself. I must begin at the beginning, eh?
I arrive at the Konzerthaus at around 6:50pm as the concert starts at 7:30pm. I was hoping to get a cheap ticket that someone donated to the box office which explains my early arrival. I ask one of the ticket fellows if he believes I'm going to be able to get a ticket. He replies with a "Eh....probably not." Nevertheless, I wait on the line of about 15 or 20 people already thinking about what I'm going to do instead of see Dudamel and the Vienna Philarmonic. The time on the clock is nearing 7:30pm when the ticket lady begins selling the cheap seats. The eyes of everyone on that line light up in a flash. I get to the ticket window and perform my "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" bit just at my cell phone's clock hits 7:30. I get a seat for 10 little Euros and I'm off. I race to the lobby of the immense building searching for an usher. Several ushers yell something at me. I do my panicked "Uhhh, sprechen Sie Englisch?" bit again. They reply with, "Uh -- go, run to the 3rd floor!"
What did I do?
Well, I did jusssstt that. I run up those stairs like I ran up the stairs of NEST+m as Saby, the Indian gym teacher, whipped Kevin G. and I relentlessly. As I rush to the top of the staircase, I hear the applause of 1,800 ON-TIME, prompt concert-goers.

eEYYEYEYEYE. I make it. I make it to the top just as the old usher lady closes the door to the hall and looks at me slowly shaking her head. Ouchy mama. That hurt. But, hey I was okay. Just as I sit down to wait for the first piece to be over, she peers her head into the hall again and her eyes bulge. She grabs me and my ticket and scurries me to my seat as the Vienna Philharmonic finishes tuning to a beautifullll.....A (as in the note, A). I see my empty seat. A nice and hefty lookin' man sits comfortably between me and my unclaimed seat. I say quietly but forcefully, "Entschuldigung (Excuse me)." He stands up and I quickly plop down in my seat just in time to see Maestro Dudamel waltz onto the stage. The man next to me then whispers some German into my ear. The translated version was "That seat you're sitting in was my seat. I gave that ticket to the box office." I praised him with my hushed "Vielen dank"s and within seconds, Rossini's Overture to La Gazza Ladra had commenced. Whew. Somehow, I had made it.

Well, as you can imagine, the concert was pretttay great. Gustavo Dudamel does jump as he conducts, and rather frequently at that. On the program was a very Copland-esque piece by a Spanish composer, Julian Orbon. I later found out that the composer studied with Aaron Copland. Also on the program was Lenny Bernstein's Divertimento for Orchestra. I give that man all the credit in the world for getting giggles and chuckles out of the Viennese audience. I must say, as corny as it may be, I felt Bernstein in the air. After all, he did spend lots of time in this city with the very same orchestra.

A little Ravel there and a little Ravel there to close out the night.
What little Ravel closed out the night you might inquire?...his 1928 classic, Bolero. I've listened to countless recording of that piece and I can now say, you must see it live. It's nothing fancy - just some wonderful zone-out music.

A few final remarks: the Konzerthaus has a smoking room. Uh huh, a smoking room on the third floor. I had the pleasure of walking through it to get to the bathroom.

Not until 1997 did the Vienna Philharmonic allow women into the orchestra. I thought I'd say a handful last night...I believe I just saw three.

During the first Ravel piece, his famous "Pavane pour une infante défunte," I watched a mother and her son in front of me whispering little things to one another. When the music got even softer, the mother and son began conversing through sign language. Youtube the piece...then maybe you will understand what I felt at that moment.

And finally, after the many well-deserved bows, Gustavo Dudamel came out one last time. Just a side note: each time he previously came out for a bow, he would give two violinists a little nudge to get up that would let the entire orchestra know to rise. This last time, he gave the same nudge to the violinists - but nothing happened. The two men did not budge a centimeter. Why? Well, the whole orchestra then began applauding Maestro Dudamel.

How bout that for 10 Euros?

My first sitting concert/opera experience in Vienna was an amazing one. Oh, and I recognized some Viennese folks sitting near me. I had seen the couple at the Opera a few weeks back. I've been to only three performances in the city and I'm already getting to know the crowd.

I'm off to Oktoberfest so I'm sure I'll be forced to spend a lot more than 10 Euros.
All the best, folks...
Danny Boy