Austin Symphony and putting the “O” in Orchestra
A circus act, a novelty instrument, and a sensual score
Of all the live music genres, the classical audience is the most prim-and-proper, most modestly dressed, the most elderly, and most importantly: the most quiet. That’s why it made headlines when a woman experienced what witnesses said sounded a lot like a loud, show-stopping, full-body orgasm in the middle of the L.A. Philharmonic’s performance of Pyotr Tchaicovsky’s Symphony No. 5 last year.
When I heard the news of the woman in California being romanced by Tchaicovsky’s 5th, I needed to know if my symphony could evoke a similar synesthesia in its audience. That’s why my immediate response was to tag my local symphony in an instagram post with the headline and caption it: “I’ll have what she’s having.”
And ASO listened: the first hallmark of a good lover. Saturday evening’s program featured a mix of Slavic composers before the grand finale of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.5, op.64 in E Minor.
The program started with a quick piece by Igor Stravinsky, commissioned by Barnum & Bailey Circus in 1942. In it, there is the suspense of a tightrope walker teetering on the edge; a tuba resembles the clumsy march of an elephant. It’s short, colorful and imaginative – but more like an indie French cartoon than a Disney short film. I can tell the carnies in this imagined circus beat the elephants and smoke cigarettes when the show is over. Stravinsky had to keep it real – it’s the nature of Slavic composition, I think.
Visiting pianist Alexandre Dossin was the soloist for Aram Khachaturian’s Piano Concerto in D-Flat Major, Op. 38. This concerto is an odd one in Khachaturian’s discography, seldom selected for public performance, mainly because it requires a solo by the flexatone – a novelty instrument, dare I say: a toy – whose sound resembles the wail of a silly cartoon ghost.
In short: We had circus freaks, experimental toys, and a score with an increasingly lecherous reputation with women. Add “most kinky” to words that describe the classical music audience, and kudos to my local symphony for having the bravery to give its supporters the experience they want and deserve.
In the Q&A that preceded the symphony, Dossin explained that the concerto score was one he found by happenstance as a student that became one of his favorites.
I’ve often felt lucky to live in a city of people who love music; I am particularly grateful for the way that is reflected in my symphony’s ability to give us experiences we might not have elsewhere, if at all, if it weren’t for their passion for their craft and desire to share it. It makes those of us in attendance feel esoteric and special. (The second hallmark of a good lover.) Dossin said he had discovered the concerto early in his musical career; it is a hidden gem of Khachaturian’s discography that became one of Dossin’s personal favorites.
This weekend was Peter Bay’s first time conducting the piece, and a staff percussionist stepped in as professional flexatonist. (Ability to assume new and creative positions with the confidence of a professional — the third hallmark of a good lover.)
Peter Bay was bold enough to give the concerto a chance, which is unsurprising, given that Bay was also bold enough to ask an orchestra of hired professionals to play literal circus music. I’m not complaining: a sense of humor and an adventurous spirit are the fourth and fifth hallmarks of a good lover. The evening’s itinerary was designed to leave me smitten, in a way other symphonies aren’t brave enough to even dream of.
Piano Concerto in D-Flat Major, Op. 38 by Aram Khachaturian
If the concerto were a novel, it is one that follows a character through decades of evolution. The piano starts as an adolescent, and at first channels a powerful but awkward ambiance — at times it is fighting with the orchestra in a sort of call-and-response argument.
The solos throughout the concerto are soliloquies sequenced that emulate the feeling of climactic “boss battles” in a video game, each one increasing in strength and depth until the piano learns to work with the orchestra instead of against it. The flexatone’s scene resembles a weeping that captures the awkward grief one feels when they have to stand up for themselves for the first time, perhaps after a lifetime of taking orders.
Eventually the orchestra and piano work together to reach a climactic triumph that is so intense someone mistakes it for the ending and yells “encore.” The final movement leads to a more quiet resolution that leaves us breathless. A standing ovation inspires an encore by Dossin that has the gusto and impact of a mic drop. Another standing ovation, and Dossin returns for a second encore and plays a diddy by Tchaikovsky as an appetizer for the 5th symphony. The final note is far from a mic drop and more like a gentle whisper; two people mutter “wow” under their breath on either side of the aisle I’m sitting in.
Before the performance, Dossin said he never knows exactly how a show is going to go, or how a song will sound until the moment he is playing it. He knows the first note, and from there, he lets it unfold. In this way, he is a master of living in the moment on par with a Buddhist monk. To whittle down his style to one word, it would be “authenticity.” Each note is deeply felt and the music evolves on its own, without much expectation imposed on it.
At times his playing was so emotionally charged, it appeared as if the piano had an electric current that sent a new shockwave through him at the pressing of each key; sometimes pulling him closer to the piano for thorough observation, and other times throwing him from the keys and out of his seat. His careful attention to each note creates a sincerity that few people possess the grounded confidence to channel at all.
Though Dossin is a visiting soloist in our city, he was once a resident – In 1998, he was a doctoral student of UT Austin. The performance was not just an example of the talent of musicians of our city in the Austin Symphony, but graduates of the Butler School of Music. This evening felt like perhaps a full-circle moment for Dossin: playing a piece he first encountered early in his career and taking center stage in a city where he was once a student. It felt special; the impressive display of mastery was also perhaps a subtle moment of personal significance that I was happy to witness. Those of us in attendance await his return like residents of Ithaca scanning the shore for Odysseus.
Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64
I’m not at all shocked that someone had a full body organism during L.A Phil’s performance of this symphony. A live orchestra performance is an inherently sensual event. What other activity — when done properly — requires about 45 minutes of your time, grabs hold of your senses, and is at times so intense you have to close your eyes, depending on the movement of another person’s hands, lips, or tongue?
In regards to my personal experience of it Saturday evening, I’d prefer to keep my dignity and leave the answer to this question open to the imagination. I am a woman with class, and would never ask or answer questions like this about one of the most vulnerable human sensations on a public platform.
But as a matter of common sense — if I wasn’t at least satisfied, do you think I would keep going back to the symphony, much less, shave my legs, put on a nice dress, and devote an entire evening just for this, if it weren’t worth it?
If you’d like to be romanced by the symphony, I’d highly recommend taking a look at the 2024/25 season calendar, which the symphony announced this week. Two Tchaikovsky pieces are on the itinerary, for anyone who wants a taste of what all the hype is about.
