Slouching Towards Snobbery
All-purpose columnist Joel Stein has a funny piece in the LA Times today in which he endeavors, as part of a larger plan to become "an intolerable old man," to learn the tricks of the trade behind being a classical music snob. In pursuit of this dubious goal, he enlists the aid of a bass player from the LA Philharmonic, who must have been slightly confused by Stein's request, since he seems to have spent a fair amount of time trying to show him how to enjoy classical music, when really, Stein just wanted to know how to become one of the jerks who shushes people and glares at anyone who claps between movements.
The Stein column put me in mind of an essay I wrote a few years back for Drew McManus's Take A Friend To The Orchestra Month at his blog, Adaptistration. Drew's annual TAFTO feature enlists musicians, writers, and listeners to describe how best to approach an orchestra concert for the first time. Some of the entries are quite serious, some are heavily intellectual, and some are aggressively populist. After careful consideration of all of these approaches, I went with "sarcastic and silly" for my contribution. (Shocking, I know...)
How To Be An Elitist Snob In 20 Easy Steps is a pretty lengthy piece, so I won't reprint it here. But you can read it over at Drew's place, if you enjoy jokes about cough drop crinklers being beaten to death with bassoons and the like...
The Stein column put me in mind of an essay I wrote a few years back for Drew McManus's Take A Friend To The Orchestra Month at his blog, Adaptistration. Drew's annual TAFTO feature enlists musicians, writers, and listeners to describe how best to approach an orchestra concert for the first time. Some of the entries are quite serious, some are heavily intellectual, and some are aggressively populist. After careful consideration of all of these approaches, I went with "sarcastic and silly" for my contribution. (Shocking, I know...)
How To Be An Elitist Snob In 20 Easy Steps is a pretty lengthy piece, so I won't reprint it here. But you can read it over at Drew's place, if you enjoy jokes about cough drop crinklers being beaten to death with bassoons and the like...
Labels: fun, state of the art, the long-suffering audience
posted by Sam at
8:55 AM
4 Comments:
"...when really, Stein just wanted to know how to become one of the jerks who shushes people and glares at anyone who claps between movements."
Amen to that!
Your essay was a great read, Sam! It made me think of two things: 1) I don't think I've seen cough drops in those boxes in several years - what gives? I've just decided that my gift to the orchestra this year will be a gross of the non-crinklies :) And, 2) It dawned on me that as many concerts as I've been to since the advent of cell phones that I don't ever recall hearing one during a concert! That hardly seems possible. :) I'm sure you've heard it once or ten times before?
A side note, I'm NEVER late for things, but one winter evening the roads were really bad and I showed up with literally about 10 seconds to spare, didn't even have a chance to put my jacket in a locker. Also was flustered enough that I forgot to leave my cell phone in the car. I realized this about 3 minutes into the piece, and was praying to any and every god that my wife wasn't going to pick that moment to call me and let my "I've Got A Woman" ring tone blare in the hall all because she was just leaving me a message to remind me to pick up some milk on the way home.
Steve, believe it or not, the cough drop budget was slashed to zero a couple of years ago (apparently, they cost several thousand dollars per year.) These days, the ushers have cough drops available, but only hand them out if asked. However, there is a rumor that we may be returning to the boxes of drops soon...
As for the cell phones, I think I've heard either a phone or a beeping watch in more than 50% of the concerts I've played. The best was when we had the spectacular St. Olaf Choir singing with us, and a girl in the front row of the sopranos had her cell go off under her robe towards the end of the first half. She was utterly mortified...
Sam Bergman, you're a gem! I loved your piece "How to be an Elitist Snob in 20 Easy Steps." I plan to keep it handy for my concert companions, if they are not already informed....
It reminded me of a Sommerfest piano recital years ago that I attended with the young son of good friends. My young friend had begun piano lessons and was beside himself with excitement to see a "real" pianist in concert. The house that night was between one-third and one-half full (alas!) and our seats were toward the back of the filled seats. Behind us sat a middle-aged couple. During the first half, my young friend "experienced" the music by conducting, pretending that he was also playing the piano, and generally not sitting quietly with his hands under his butt. The woman behind us kept hissing and making whispered comments that I should muzzle the boy. Her comments were probably far more disruptive to the pianist on stage than my friend's hand-waving and finger-exercising. However, at intermission, I moved us to the back of the auditorium, by ourselves, where he could do whatever he wanted as he thoroughly loved the music and the concert. When the middle-aged couple came in, they passed us on the way to their seats. The woman gave me a severe look, admonished me for allowing "that boy" to be such a distraction. I calmly pointed out that we had moved and gave her my best wishes to enjoy the rest of the concert.
I don't think I'll ever forget that concert because of that snobbish woman, but I don't recall one piece the pianist played. What I recall with huge affection is my young friend's excitement, enjoyment, and love for the music.
Which is not to say I probably should have chosen our seats better....
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