Last Friday, Nicola Benedetti pulled the unthinkable on the Lincoln Center’s stage. During an extended solo of her violin concerto, she stepped away from her mic, turned her back to the audience, and walked through the orchestra.
Huh?
The soldier-esque postures of the other musicians didn’t flinch, but I could see something in their eyes. Was this planned? Were they in on these shenanigans?
I was. I love shenanigans, especially when I can be the ignorant audience member, unfamiliar with the fine line between professional decorum and artistic expression in an art steeped in tradition, listening to the whispers of the audience around me. Psst, psst, psst. “Where was she going? What’s going on? How dare they?” The novelty spoke to me.
From center stage, the back of the conductor’s head oscillated ever so slightly, tracking the violinist’s stride away from the microphone, through a narrow path of folding chairs and instruments, toward the back wall. The clack of her heels accompanied soft tunes from her strings, bouncing throughout the auditorium, which, by they way, has amazing acoustics given how well she pulled this off, as I didn’t see a mic strapped to her hip.
What thoughts were clanging through the maestro’s brain as the violinist commanded the space? Do conductors and lead violinists get along? Was I witnessing a usurping of power live and in color?
Drama.
Click, clack, click, clack. She stopped to pivot in front of a percussionist. A rumble grew, only building according to the violinist’s playful stare and bobbing chin.
The maestro’s baton stood at attention.
What was the power dynamic of this trio? Who would the percussionist wish they had listened to when walking home after the show? Who’s paying for his drink?
Audience members leaned over the edge of the stage’s back wall, stealing glimpses of a now-front-row view of the violinist’s face. Disdainful groans. A few curious chuckles. Chaos at the Philharmonic!
“The walk across the stage” gossip dominated the intermission bathroom lines like a reality TV cliffhanger during commercial break.
Honestly, I was All. For. This. Because whether planned or improvised they paired this bit of choreography with what was truly a difficult piece of music to play, let alone memorize all 45 minutes of Marsalis’ “Concerto in D for Violin and Orchestra.”
Consider me impressed. Nicola Benedetti, if by some crazy act of fate you read this, please know that I thought you were stellar. That violin concerto was dope. I don’t care what anyone says. The touch of intrigue was salsa on top of that spicy musical performance that I was lucky enough to witness.
The orchestra carried on as the excellent professionals they were, responding in tune, laying the foundation for everything to pay off. Overall, the piece was jazzy, somber, and thought-provoking.
I loved Nicola’s final flex too, as she walked into the wings, strumming the piece’s decrescendo offstage. Not only that, after a strong ovation, which compelled me to stand at attention, she came out for an encore of another memorized American dandy, Jay Ungar’s “Ashokan Farewell.”
Stellar nonetheless. I’m no trained musician, so I don’t know if this was protocol or a talented artist gone rogue, but either way, it was a treat.
Keep up the shenanigans.
Welcome back, fam
To those actually familiar with classical music performance, do you think the violinist went off script, knowing everyone could keep up or was this planned choreography?
I hope it was improvised.
—
I initially started this post, because I wanted to write a fictional Spotify artist page for the symphony, then realized, dang, Nicola has almost 800k monthly listeners. Shows that I’m fully ignorant of the classical music social capital structure.
The symphony was a blast. Pro tip, the Lincoln Center live streams their performances in the lobby, huge tv screen and extra chairs, all for free.
The city offers really cool stuff if you dig around!
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Wes
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This whole thing made me think of the movie Whiplash. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it. I know nothing of the classical music world but my money's on her being a rouge musician and I'm also all for it. It's just like if you fall into the routine of sex with somebody... you gotta throw some spice in it.
I BELIEVE that symphony music does not have mics (except for recording) because none of the sound is digitally amplified. Music should only be amplified by the acoustics of the room itself.
But anyway, great description of the drama!