Anticipation

Not long ago I went to a New York Philharmonic concert -- Peter Lieberson's Red Garuda, and the Mahler First Symphony, with James Conlon conducting. The lights in Avery Fisher Hall dimmed before the music started, evidently a new Philharmonic policy. I sat there in row HH, further back than I usually sit. The location seemed perfect, with the musicians, of course dressed in black, framed by the brownish wood of the stage. Looking at this, in semi-darkness, I felt something I hadn't felt in years, at an orchestral concert -- a sense of anticipation. I could hardly wait for the music to begin. And me, a professional, not exactly jaded, but certainly prepared, after years of concertgoing, for something slightly less than transcendent!

But the lighting changed all that. See what a small change in presentation can do? Let's have more of it.

One footnote: the lights were so dim that I couldn't read the program. I think that's a plus. True, the same week I'd gotten bored at another concert, and fled to the program notes for something to distract me. But if the lights had been as dim as the Philharmonic made them, I might have stayed with the music, and given it another chance, very likely to my benefit.

Let's have more dim lights. A concert is a show, remember? (Whatever else it might also be.) Let's make it one.