New member, first posting:
I took my daughter to a performance of Beethoven's Ninth last week. It was the first time she'd seen it performed live, and it was an excellent performance, but you wouldn't know that from the reviewer in
The Washington Post, the creature.
The first movement was performed so perfectly, with real fire when fire was called for, and exquisite timing for silences and volume. The audience burst into applause at the end of the movement, not because they were stupid, but because they appreciated an outstanding effort by an orchestra not known for outstanding effort (Baltimore Symphony Orchestra) with a good-but-not-marquee-famous guest conductor (Jeffrey Kahane). The reviewer thought the audience was stupid, didn't know that the piece wasn't over. The soloists were really good. They had strong voices, great timing. The reviewer thought their German pronunciation was too Americanized. We in the audience appreciated their voices, weren't
overly distraught about the dipthongs. Ah, well.
Susan, FATE, BANGING ON THE DOOR WITH A JACKHAMMER
I took my daughter to a performance of Beethoven's Ninth last week. It was the first time she'd seen it performed live, and it was an excellent performance, but you wouldn't know that from the reviewer in
The Washington Post, the creature.
The first movement was performed so perfectly, with real fire when fire was called for, and exquisite timing for silences and volume. The audience burst into applause at the end of the movement, not because they were stupid, but because they appreciated an outstanding effort by an orchestra not known for outstanding effort (Baltimore Symphony Orchestra) with a good-but-not-marquee-famous guest conductor (Jeffrey Kahane). The reviewer thought the audience was stupid, didn't know that the piece wasn't over. The soloists were really good. They had strong voices, great timing. The reviewer thought their German pronunciation was too Americanized. We in the audience appreciated their voices, weren't
overly distraught about the dipthongs. Ah, well.
Susan, FATE, BANGING ON THE DOOR WITH A JACKHAMMER
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