This Disney Fantasia concert turned out to be such a
pleasant surprise, I had to write it up. I’m pretty sure I’ve been to at least
one other before, but never have I been this close and personal. This time, I
was right in the middle of the 2nd row. It took a little getting
used to in the beginning: the seats were lower than the stage, kind of like
sitting in the orchestra pit, so I couldn’t see all of the musicians. I was
right up against the strings so they were particularly prominent acoustically.
The conductor was smack in the center of the projection screen, blocking my view. But as the concert progressed, I started to realize what an incredible experience this was shaping out to be. I was so close to the performers I could hear that extra bit of friction between the bow and strings of the cellos. I could see their intense concentration as they stared at the notes on the pages in front of them, hear the deep breath they take right before they churn out a beautiful snippet of music out of their instruments. All of this amounted to one of the most intimate concerts I’d ever been to. It felt as though I was enveloped in the music. The first two rows also happened to have the most legroom of all the seats on the main floor, making them the most spacious seats in the concert hall. Needless to say, I was very glad of my choice of seating.
The performance itself was quite an interesting experience
as well. Contrary to your usual classical music concert, there’s a projection screen
hanging above the performers, with short Disney clips to go with the music.
This particular one was a combination of the 1940 and 1999 Fantasia concerts,
and you definitely see the difference in style. But both were a throwback to
old times compared to the fantastic 3D CGIs we see today in movies. Oddly
though, rather than feeling obsolete, they were quite endearing. Some of the
pieces worked better than others. For example, I didn’t care much for the
Russian Dance visualization: the on-screen images seemed out of sync with the
music, it almost felt like the music was playing catch-up the whole time. The
other clips set to The Nutcracker Suite fared a bit better in synchronization but
really didn’t have much of a story: they were merely pretty images on the
screen. For the majority of this Suite I focused on the musicians, and found
the screen to be a bit of a distraction. The conductor was smack in the center of the projection screen, blocking my view. But as the concert progressed, I started to realize what an incredible experience this was shaping out to be. I was so close to the performers I could hear that extra bit of friction between the bow and strings of the cellos. I could see their intense concentration as they stared at the notes on the pages in front of them, hear the deep breath they take right before they churn out a beautiful snippet of music out of their instruments. All of this amounted to one of the most intimate concerts I’d ever been to. It felt as though I was enveloped in the music. The first two rows also happened to have the most legroom of all the seats on the main floor, making them the most spacious seats in the concert hall. Needless to say, I was very glad of my choice of seating.
In general, the newer Fantasia seemed to do a much better job marrying the music to the visualization. One piece that was particularly brilliant was the clip set to Stravinsky’s Firebird. The story started with the awakening of Spring, which purged the land of the icy remnants of winter with lush greenery. But her curiosity brought on the wrath of the dormant volcano, which destroyed everything. Eventually, she brings life back to the land again, after some gentle coaxing from the elk who first woke her up. The images were so engrossing and the music went so well with the story I completely forgot about the musicians. If only all film scores could be so well incorporated!
Another piece that was fun was Poncchielli’s Dance of the Hours, set to images of vividly colored dancing animals. And not animals you typically associate with dancelike gracefulness, but more along the lines of hippos, elephants and crocodiles. Not only did the audience chuckle in delight, there were a few moments when the performers caught the onscreen images in their glance and chuckled while performing. This was one concert where audience reaction actually added to the experience and the carefree happiness that filled the concert hall made me feel like a child again.
The concert reached a climactic finale with Respighi’s Pines of Rome, set to images of a herd of whales flying in the Arctic. While the images again didn’t tell much of a story, I thought the placement of brass players in the terrace was a fantastic idea: it allowed them to project far into the corners of the concert hall and made the music sound even more triumphant. I was satisfied enough at the end of this program, but the conductor then came out with a brief encore: a jazzy take on Flight of the Bumble Bee so delightful it added an extra spring in my steps as I walked out of the concert hall.
When I made the plunge to buy a season subscription a couple of months ago, I had my doubts. Pay a big sum of money up front and lock in concert dates, especially in Chicago’s most brutal winter months was a bit of a gamble. Not to mention I had to pick 10 concerts in order to take advantage of the 20% savings, when in the past I average about only 5 concerts per season. But three concerts into my subscription, I have to admit: this is one of the best decisions I made this year! Yes I lose spontaneity, but I was able to get tickets to popular concerts ahead of time, BEFORE they sell out. Going so often definitely made my ears keener, and allowed me to appreciate the music more. I also get to sample a wider range of music when in the past I’d have easily persuaded myself to miss out due to weather or lack of good seats or whatever other excuses I give myself. Now I’m totally looking forward to the rest of my subscription concert series!
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