My wife (who, in case you were wondering, does NOT wear a boater) and I have lived in Western Massachusetts for four years now; arrival date was July 8, 2011, to be exact. Since then, we have tried to take in much of the local flavor: we shop at our farm market, we make at least one yearly trip to Fenway Park, we’ve gone apple picking, we haven’t done the Cape together, but it’s on the list. We’ve also gone to that wonderful haven of culture in a beautiful setting, Tanglewood.
For those unfamiliar, Tanglewood is the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and sometimes the Boston Pops. It’s tucked away up in the Berkshires, which, for New England standards, is a mountain range, chock full of old homes, charming storefronts, and historically, an artist’s recluse. Now, by the standards of the mighty Sierra Nevada, in whose shadow I have spent much of my life, these Berkshires are a mushroom. But for Massachusetts, these Berkshires are the Alps.
We’ve gone to Tanglewood a few times before. It’s really an idyllic setting. The driving through the hills is half the enjoyment. The grounds are spacious and on warm summer evening, it’s quite leisurely. It’s just something nice to take in…a moment of tranquility, a chance to remove from the hustle and bustle and enjoy life’s offerings. In the past, we had sat in the shelter of the massive Koussevitsky Music Shed. Last night’s concert, however, was completely sold out; it was a program of movie music, half of which was John Williams, performed by the Pops. The first half of the concert was conducted by David Newman, of the Newman royal family of film composers, and the second by Keith Lockhart.
When I say the concert was “sold out”, I should explain further. The shed seats were all gone; what was available were spots on the lawn. We noticed this on our previous visit. That time we had seats near the stage. We saw people who arrived quite early, and brought in chairs, coolers, bags, all kinds of picnic essentials. I was not sure if they were going to a concert or preparing for some sort of military operations. Many brought their own drinks of the adult variety. How fascinating! But absolutely dependent on a benevolent Mother Nature, no doubt. And in New England, you could be playing with fire. Well, not so much fire, as the rain would dampen any flame…but you catch my drift. On one of our previous visits, a downpour greatly diminished the audible subtleties of a Mozart piano concerto. But for last night, the weather looked promising, and so we gave it a try.
We came prepared: chicken wings, wine, chips and guacamole dip, cheese, towels, and lawn chairs. As soon as we got near, you could tell tonight was going to be a big one. The show did not begin till 8:30, and traffic was bumper-to-bumper a few miles out. It is, of course, only two lanes but why would you want more? Asphalt would just ruin the setting. Now, if you want to discuss a satellite parking area with shuttles, that might be a conversation worth exploring…but that’s not my business. On the walk up, a pleasant site was how more diverse this audience was than in our previous trips. More families, and a greater variety of ethnicities. A program that included “Forrest Gump,” “Jurassic Park,” “Star Trek: Into Darkness”, and “Star Wars” is going to be more “user friendly” than Mahler or Rachmaninoff. I’ll save my thoughts on the former of those two composers for a later day. But it was wonderful see more people engaging in the arts.
So, by 6, we had secured our little spot on the lawn, set up our camp, and had our first toast (of the clinking of glasses variety, not of the heated bread type). It was still 2 and 1/2 hours till kick-off…..err, downbeat. Because really, that’s what this felt like: a classical music tailgate. Since age 18, all but four years of my life have been involved with college marching bands, either as a band member, a staff member, or a director. Geez…I didn’t realize it’s been that long. Because of that, the tailgate culture is something I have not partaken off too often. I have had a few times, such as when I’ve gone to Iowa games over the years since graduation. A good friend has a tailgater I drop by during lunch break on my current game days. But for the most part, the set-up, cook, drink, relax, socialize for hours before kick-off, that’s been an experience I’m seldom a part of.
But that’s what being on the lawn at Tanglewood was. As I looked around, it reminded me of game-days in the SEC. Some people had tables with table cloth on them, and all manner of serving dishes. One person had a candelabra. And the offerings weren’t just wings or sandwiches. Some had finger sandwiches, patés, all variety of wine, pies, cakes…many of these outdoor classical enthusiasts sure knew how to do it up right. It brought back memories of what used to be called “The World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party,” aka the annual Florida/Georgia football game. Played on the neutral site of Jacksonsville, the stadium is always half Gator, half Bulldog, and the tailgating seemed to rival the on-field contest. UF and UGA backers try to out-do each other in terms of the most impressive pre-football banquet. That’s what the Tanglewood lawn felt like.
When the concert began, it was quite the novelty. You can hear the music well, and there is a screen in which you can see what’s going on. For some of the pieces, the music was accompanied by the movies. Most delightful of this was during “Forrest Gump”, which showcased clips from Paramount Studios over the year. All the music, as you can imagine, was delightful. Perhaps my favorite was an encore to end the first half, Lalo Shifrin’s incomparable “Mission Impossible” theme. Well…”Jurassic Park” was pretty good too, who am I kidding? It was all great…..but I felt it lacked something. And that something was not just the notable absence of “Indiana Jones” from the John Williams offerings. Nor anything by the Newman family when David was conducting. You would think “How the West Was Won,” “Conquest”, “The Natural,” “Skyfall”, or even “You’ve Got a Friend In Me” might drop in. But I am digressing from my main point. You had to think there would be a point to this blog at…well, some point. It is this: I just felt disconnected not being able to see the musicians. There was a disengagement; I heard the product but I was missing seeing the production take place. I suppose there is a Marxist interpretation of that, but I’ll leave that for someone else. There are two topics this blog is going to try and avoid: politics and the UMass band. Politics because those blogs are a dime a dozen and can be so polarizing; my goal is amuse all. I’d rather the world be changed through a smile, not through rhetoric. The UMass band because, well…people already have their own opinions, and I’d like to keep my thoughts close to the vest. Or maybe under my hat. Which is a boater. But you knew that already. So any reader coming here hoping to get the inside story on what goes with the band….this blog may not be for you. But I do hope you stay. Come back. And tell your friends. End shameless plug.
Anyway, back to the Tanglewood lawn…I loved the environment, the festivities, the atmosphere, but it just didn’t click for me, being combined with the concert. Even if my seats at a football game are away from the field, I still see the action. I can still see the players doing their thing. Last night, I only saw musicians through a screen. That was disappointing to me. I could hear, but not see. And if you’re asking, isn’t that what you do when you listen to a recording…well, of course you’re right…but that’s part of the bargain there. The music isn’t being produced in front of you, you’re hearing a re-creation. At a concert, we are all part of a community that shares in this act of creation. We are there at the birth of a sound. It happens in front of our own ears and hopefully eyes. But with the eyes not being able to partake….it was a disconnect. I felt left out of part of the process. It all kind of felt like a big gathering on the lawn to listen to a recording. It was a great recording, that’s for sure, played spectacularly, and the ambience of a kind unique to this special place. But it just didn’t have the music-making synergy that I enjoy at a concert.
It’s very similar of why I find live theatre so special. The drama is in real time, occurring right in front of us. As an audience member, I am witnessing art in the making. This art didn’t exist in this physical presence before; it’s happening now. You don’t get that with a movie, nor with a recording. For example…earlier this summer, we sat in the Shed and heard the BSO perform the Gershwin Piano Concerto. I’ve heard that piece many times before; I absolutely love it. I knew from recordings what was going to happen next, no notes came as a surprise. But seeing it being performed, witnessing the creation of the sounds with my eyes..it made a beloved piece that much better, all because of the visual enhancement. That was what was missing from my experience last night, visually witnessing the creation that makes live music a community.
So, now we can check that off our New England “to do” list; sit on the lawn at Tanglewood. I liked the eating outdoors; in a perfect world, I would have my shed tickets (not an option last night), enjoy a pre-concert dinner on the lawn, and then move into the real seats for the show. That way I can watch the musicians. Of course, now you have the logistics of what to do with the lawn furniture and dinner supplies. Did Sherman ask himself these questions before embarking on the March to the Sea? Or the Casement brothers, when they built the Union Pacific? (No, follows of “Hell on Wheels”; Cullen Bohanan did not actually build the railroad). Something to ponder.
As an epilogue, I will say this. The first thing I did this morning was work in my garden. The weeds took to our recent rain and went on a growth spurt. It was time to pull out the intruders, prune back the tomato bush, and also trim up the hanging flower pots. My musical accompaniment was no Boston Pops or any other world class orchestra. It was the chatter of birds at our nearby feeder. And that, my friends, was a sweeter symphony than I have ever heard. The fresh dirt in my hands and on my knees, and the sounds of a Sunday morning outdoors. I challenge even John Williams to write better. Let that music play on, and that is a community in which I will gladly partake.
guyinaboater 