Breathing the same air

Listening to the radio while doing chores, or playing a CD while driving a lonely stretch of road, it's easy to fall into the habit of thinking about music as a solitary experience. Cafes are full of people, each hearing their own soundtrack to life through earbuds. If we sing at all, it's to ourselves in the shower. Music is a commodity, served at a table for one.

What a change, then, to experience the real thing, the way humans have practiced the art for 20,000 years or so--as a community. Last Saturday I attended the spring concert of The Orchestra of Northern New York. While I haven't the ear to judge the quality of the performance--a program of Haydn and Beethoven--the quality of the experience was remarkable. Dozens of performers, many of them known to me, and hundreds of listeners, many also known to me, gathered in one room at one time, breathing the same air. The orchestra gave the gift of their practice and talent. The audience gave the gift of their attention and appreciation. They dressed up, put aside their other business, and traveled to be together for a single purpose. It happened in real time, from the opening theme to the final fall of the baton, becoming what it was moment by moment. If you weren't there, you missed it, and no recording can replace what you missed.

I will never forego the solitary pleasures of recorded music, and would never discourage anyone from listening to the radio--preferably to NCPR for hours each day. Just bear in mind that what you hear is only a synthetic echo of a moment, not the moment itself. For that, you need to go to where the music is being played.