By: Jie Jenny Zou
Attending the symphony is a social exercise fraught with elegance and dare I say, the slightest bit of pretension. It immediately conjures up images of a black tie affair where well-coiffed women are draped in long gowns and bespectacled men twirl their Monopoly-esque facial hair in deep, contemplative thought. Or so I thought.
The problem with assumptions and preconceived notions is how steadily they can break down once you’ve actually experienced the un-experienced. And so it was with the Stony Brook Orchestra Symphony.
First off, let me say that I know nothing of orchestras, and even less of symphonies, and so it made absolute sense that the symphony ended up being one of the most entertaining events I’ve attended here at Stony Brook’s Staller Center.
It’s not an ornate production in the classical sense–the stage is set with little more than chairs, some music stands, a grand piano or two and the members of the orchestra are specifically asked to dress only in black from head to toe (though, if you’re a shoe-lover like myself, the symphony is ideal for seeing how creative women can get with something as seemingly constrictive as black shoes).
The audience, much like other Staller events, represented mostly community members, some young tots and a few university students. There were no monocles in sight–in fact, there was a good amount of aggressive snacking and straight-out dining going on in the audience.
The music was undeniably great. The precision with which the pieces was played was sharp, the synchronicity of the various sections was tight, and there was no shortage of complex woodwind and brass solos that showcased the technical talents of individual musicians. Stony Brook’s music department has long been heralded as a strong example of the university’s robust performing arts program, so the quality of the symphony itself came as no surprise.
What was a surprise was the sheer amount of custom and tradition on display in between pieces. Following the end of every piece was applause and the bowing of the conductor, which was done twice with the conductor leaving the stage momentarily for a few seconds. The second round was triggered by members of the orchestra, who quickly seated themselves and stomped on the floor as if to invite the conductor back onto the stage. Applause is only given at the very end of a piece, which can be hard to determine when multiple sections of a large piece are played with abrupt stops in between. Don’t be fooled, it isn’t yet the end.
Then there’s the concertmaster–a privilege bestowed to the lead violinist, not to be confused with “first chair,” which only exists for non-violin orchestral sections. The concertmaster acts as a ceremonious precursor to the conductor, gracefully opening the lid of the grand piano in preparation for the concert pianist, or gently plucking on the string of his or her violin to initiate a tuning session where the musicians tune their individual instruments in a cacophony of sound.
The conductor, or maestro, is given a platform upon which to stand, and frequently reappears and appears throughout the symphony seemingly at his own will. The conductor also reserves the right to gesture for those who played very well to stand up with him for a round of applause at the end of a piece.
For the first two songs, members of the orchestra sections are swapped out– a subbing situation not all too different from a basketball game. But during intermission, the seating arrangement is completely changed to house the orchestra in its entirety for the third and final piece, arguably the most complex song that often requires the power and nuance of a full ensemble.
While the idea of sitting through nearly two and a half hours of chamber music may seem daunting as an audience member with little interest in the genre, what was refreshing about this particular performance was how daunting it was for other members of the audience and even the performers themselves. Admid the beautiful music you can catch a glimpse of a fidgety child sitting in the front row, or of the largest performer on stage often playing the smallest instrument (the piccolo, a smaller version of a flute).
This particular symphony was overshadowed by what was possibly the most intense triangle player I’ve ever seen in my life. Rock on, triangle man.
The Stony Brook Symphony Orchestra plays throughout the year at the Staller Center. Tickets for students are $10 with ID.
