From Jennifer Foster, at WDAV at Davidson College, in North Carolina:
I was at a Sunday afternoon concert at a small Episcopal church in town. (A local baroque cellist has a treasure trove of early music friends from Berkeley who come to town to perform from time to time.) The concert opened with Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5. The harpsichord player, a mischievous looking fellow named Henry Lebedinsky, was in the heat of playing the daylights out of his extensive solo. Rather than wallow in the kind of attention a well-heeled classical music audience owed him for his great talent and efforts, he turned his face to us in the middle of one of the most difficult passages, hoisted an eyebrow and gave a crooked grin as if to say, “Impressive, isn’t it?” It was like Bugs Bunny delivering a casual aside or giving himself a manicure while everything around him is exploding.
Suddenly, we were all off the hook.
He gave us permission to perceive our concert-going experience differently. A small gesture with grand implications.Of course this is the kind of gesture — the kind of communication between musicians and audience — that’s so often missing in classical music. Many thanks to Jennifer for passing it on.
She herself embodies many things that classical music needs, and she’s figured in this blog before, as loyal readers will remember: here and here.