A Bass-ic Understanding

This morning the rarest of occurrences for a new parent took place in my home.  My wife and young daughter were leaving the house for the morning, and since my 2 month old boy was a bit under the weather, I stayed home with him.  As soon as the girls were gone, my boy presented me with a precious gift.  He fell asleep for two whole hours!  Now anyone reading this who has a child knows that these moments where the house is silent are fleeting and to be cherished.  

Given my sudden and unexpected, if only momentary, freedom, I poured some coffee and decided to settle in and listen to the International Violin Competition of Indianapolis' first batch of preliminary round recitals, which are being simulcast via the internet.  I had been looking forward to checking out the IVCI website, and this was the perfect chance.  The competition surely is one of the cultural highlights in Indy when it takes place every four years, and since it is unlikely that I will be able to personally attend the prelims, I was looking forward to hearing some of it online.  (The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra will be performing with the finalists in the concerto round Sept. 22-25)  The competition is always a thrilling spectacle to watch unfold, but it does have a special place in my family's heart.  My wife Jayna, a member of the ISO second violin section, was a participant in the competition in 2002.  It was a very proud moment to see her tireless hard work and preparation (while holding down a full time orchestra position mind you) culminate in a beautiful performance on the stage at the Indiana History Center.  

But I think I was most curious about experiencing the competition via the internet versus being there in person.  In this day and age when classical music is more readily available on more platforms than ever before, does the experience really change when the vehicle for the event is a computer screen?  

Recently, orchestras around the world, including the Berlin Philharmonic, have launched ventures to broadcast performances through webcasts.  The Metropolitan Opera has been presenting full length operas on movie screens across the country for some time now, and our very own ISO has a page on the website instantencore.com that offers a number of live concert recordings for anyone to listen to online for free, or to be downloaded for a fee.  

I completely understand the thinking behind projects like these.  Accessibility is much easier for a lot of people if all you have to do is turn on your computer.  Usually, you don't even have to be in the same city as the performance to take it in.  One often doesn't have to be locked into a specific start time if you are downloading a concert.  And an organization can solicit their product to a vastly larger marketplace online.  So then, why did I feel unfulfilled watching the competition online?  I felt I was missing something.

Let me put it another way.  Last year I was invited by a friend to go to my first NFL football game here in Indy.  The seats were fantastic. Right on the 50 yard line about 5 rows deep.  I have been a big sports fan, and Colts follower, for a long time, and there is nothing like seeing these guys play up close and personal.  The speed of the game is breakneck, and the sound of hard plastic meeting human flesh is unlike anything I had ever seen or heard before.  I had a newfound respect and appreciation for the players and the game they play because I could experience the nuance and professionalism they brought to the field in an entirely different way than I could on my couch at home watching on television.  

I think the same applies to live music.  You can certainly appreciate it from a far, but it is so much better in person.  While listening to music online or on your stereo, unless you have an incredibly sophisticated sound system, you likely won't be able to discern the subtleties or inflections of a performance, where the real music is made and art is forged.  There is something magical about a live performance, where moments are special simply because they are unique to that performer and setting, full of personality and sentiment, incapable of being reproduced quite the same way again.  The only real way to be a part of that is to be there yourself.  

So as I listened to these fabulous violinists pour out their hearts, I couldn't keep one thought from flashing through my mind.  If I had been forced to watch and listen to my wife's recital at the competition over the internet, I wouldn't have been able to really understand what she went through there.  To feel the weight of the moment.  I would have missed out on the emotions and electricity of that experience that I treasure so much today.  As we move forward and try to understand how technology and tradition can work together, we must never forget that there is no substitute for being there.