2003-07-14 - 9:59 a.m.
Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Plays the Esplanade
The trombones of his own breathlessness bombast all he could hear.
Late as I was, I picked the wrong programme as I sat down said the reviewer.
For the next pleasant minutes he took B's Pastoral for Mozart's Jupiter.
Said reviewer, the anxiety of influence so strong in the younger composer.
Likewise, Johnson draws this shoebox a lineage from the Musikverein's Grober.
Said reviewer, it was a struggle to kill the pantheon's father.
From no other city than this could he have found a new Vienna.
An achievement notwithstanding the condition of tinnitus in my ear.
Which, under the circumstances, is a minor gift of a neuter
Against the rousing plastic bags, rear-ending phones and pagers.
Not considering the way it nuances his sense of joie de vivre.
Useful when you discover Schumann's cello in Strauss' Des Helden Widersacher.
Our stone-deaf Tiresias joined intermission's crowd at the foyer.
Between the bell's third crow and my seat, I chanced on my error.
While jiggling his last sip of Evian mineral water.
Two mouths trail past, rearguing the strings in Mendelsohn's Overture (!).
The doors to the music shut faster than to a Latter-Day stranger.
The notes mutinied off their staffs - wholes, eighths, halves, quarters.
Tiresias has a deadline to his king in four hours.
The rest of the concert to the applause was a blur.
The moment of decision is madness, says one philosopher.
First thing I did at home was to visit www.gewandhaus.de
First rule of review: use adjectives. Second rule, flatter.
Only way to transform small byline to poster headliner.
'Sonorous elegance on disciplined strings' wrote the reviewer.
The blind reading the blind, save I, knew none the better.
