The Concert...
Apr. 24th, 2012 08:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
khiemtranSo, it's your last night in Bratislava, your friends have all scarpered and it's raining. But you have in your hands, a hard won ticket to see the Slovak Philharmonic...
You don't want to be late, so head to the Old Town for a light dinner before the concert. Don't forget to bring an umbrella. If you choose the same Japanese restaurant as me, be warned that it may lead to yet another strange and unexpected adventure (it's that sort of town).
On to the Reduta Theatre now, and this time the doors have opened...
You can check your jacket and umbrella at the counters on the left (looking back towards the entrance). Don't forget to note the roman numeral on the rack the lady uses, as you'll need to come back to the same place to retrieve your items.
Also, if you're in Bratislava and you don't have a concert ticket, here's a tip - you don't actually need a ticket to get into the foyer. So, if there's a show about to start and you'd like a look around, this is a good chance to do it.
Heading up the stairs now...
Most of the other patrons seem to be locals. They must obviously know how to open doors marked Tlačiť.
And they're well-dressed too. This is where you're glad you're at least wearing a collared shirt if not a tie.
Drinks at the bar. I only saw one Asian face and one African one amongst the crowd.
If you can't read Slovak, see if you can at least pick the name of the soloist...
At last, the doors open. As my new-found friend in the ticket office had promised, I had an excellent seat. Just 11 Euros for a place that would cost me ten times that in Sydney.
The theatre is spectacular inside, and the acoustics are dramatic. The orchestra's sound hits you in waves.
And here they are... the Slovak Philharmonic. They are, admittedly, somewhat overshadowed by that mob down the road in Vienna, but they're going to give it a good go tonight. (This picture was actually taken on the way back in after intermission, I wasn't going to take any photos during the performance.)
And the music? Well, local-boy Hummel is the star of the concert, but, just as he was in his lifetime, he's sandwiched here between Mozart and Beethoven. First, the Slovak Phil opens with an energetic performance of the overture from The Marriage Of Figaro. I've heard the opera itself twice, but, in this hall, and up this close, this band is loud. It's a rousing warm up and the audience waits with excitement for the next piece.
Hummel's turn! This time, they're playing Hummel's Piano Concerto No. 3 in B minor. It's not a piece I've heard before, and I'm looking forward to it. It starts with all guns blazing in a big, long, minor key opening (in, oh, I'd say... B minor ;) ). If you like late Classical or early Romantic piano concertos, you'll probably like this. I find myself thinking I have to find myself a recording. As the piece goes on though (and on and on - and that's just the introduction), I begin to sense something missing. There are changes aplenty and lots of ideas, but, if anything, it seems like there are almost too many surprises. There are plenty of moments of "Oh, I didn't expect that", but not the "how did he think of THAT?" that you get with Mozart or Beethoven (although it should be noted that I've listened to every Mozart and Beethoven concerto several times and there are probably things that I missed with each of them, the first time I heard them).
The first movement ends and only one person starts to clap in the corner. NB: at a classical concert in Slovakia, DO NOT clap until the end of the final movement. Then, at the end of the piece, keeping clapping as long as everyone else does, to make up for the clapping you missed earlier. It's just the way things are, this century... Ironically, in Hummel's time, it was the done thing to demand encores by clapping after a particularly good movement, something that wouldn't be possible now. By the end of the second movement, the errant clapper sits silent and no doubt chastened, and the audience pauses to cough instead before the start of the rousing finale.
That's it! A good effort from Hummel, and the crowd streams out happily to the bar for the intermission. Now, if you're on your own, you have two choices. If you need the rest room, they're on your right. If you feel like a drink, however, head as fast as you can to the bar on your left, because the queue will quickly stretch its way all the way back to the doors. These Slovaks like a drink! Hesitate too long and you'll spend the rest of the intermission waiting for your turn while silver haired ladies swig brandy and vermouth around the tiny tables. (Actually, I saw said silver haired ladies pouring their own drinks from a bottle - I don't know if they got it from the bar or if they came prepared with their own plan to beat the queue.)
There's the bell! Assuming you managed either or both of your toilet stop and drink, head back to your seat as the Slovak Phil returns to stage.
Next it's Beethoven, and another crowd-pleaser - the Symphony No. 7. The orchestra really hits its straps here. In this small hall and with the symphony's big, rousing rhythms, the air itself seems to be pulsating with energy. Here is Hummel's problem writ large - his concerto was pleasant enough, but by the time the concert ends, I've forgotten every note. I walk home happily into the night, with Beethoven still ringing in my head.
You don't want to be late, so head to the Old Town for a light dinner before the concert. Don't forget to bring an umbrella. If you choose the same Japanese restaurant as me, be warned that it may lead to yet another strange and unexpected adventure (it's that sort of town).
On to the Reduta Theatre now, and this time the doors have opened...
You can check your jacket and umbrella at the counters on the left (looking back towards the entrance). Don't forget to note the roman numeral on the rack the lady uses, as you'll need to come back to the same place to retrieve your items.
Also, if you're in Bratislava and you don't have a concert ticket, here's a tip - you don't actually need a ticket to get into the foyer. So, if there's a show about to start and you'd like a look around, this is a good chance to do it.
Heading up the stairs now...
Most of the other patrons seem to be locals. They must obviously know how to open doors marked Tlačiť.
And they're well-dressed too. This is where you're glad you're at least wearing a collared shirt if not a tie.
Drinks at the bar. I only saw one Asian face and one African one amongst the crowd.
If you can't read Slovak, see if you can at least pick the name of the soloist...
At last, the doors open. As my new-found friend in the ticket office had promised, I had an excellent seat. Just 11 Euros for a place that would cost me ten times that in Sydney.
The theatre is spectacular inside, and the acoustics are dramatic. The orchestra's sound hits you in waves.
And here they are... the Slovak Philharmonic. They are, admittedly, somewhat overshadowed by that mob down the road in Vienna, but they're going to give it a good go tonight. (This picture was actually taken on the way back in after intermission, I wasn't going to take any photos during the performance.)
And the music? Well, local-boy Hummel is the star of the concert, but, just as he was in his lifetime, he's sandwiched here between Mozart and Beethoven. First, the Slovak Phil opens with an energetic performance of the overture from The Marriage Of Figaro. I've heard the opera itself twice, but, in this hall, and up this close, this band is loud. It's a rousing warm up and the audience waits with excitement for the next piece.
Hummel's turn! This time, they're playing Hummel's Piano Concerto No. 3 in B minor. It's not a piece I've heard before, and I'm looking forward to it. It starts with all guns blazing in a big, long, minor key opening (in, oh, I'd say... B minor ;) ). If you like late Classical or early Romantic piano concertos, you'll probably like this. I find myself thinking I have to find myself a recording. As the piece goes on though (and on and on - and that's just the introduction), I begin to sense something missing. There are changes aplenty and lots of ideas, but, if anything, it seems like there are almost too many surprises. There are plenty of moments of "Oh, I didn't expect that", but not the "how did he think of THAT?" that you get with Mozart or Beethoven (although it should be noted that I've listened to every Mozart and Beethoven concerto several times and there are probably things that I missed with each of them, the first time I heard them).
The first movement ends and only one person starts to clap in the corner. NB: at a classical concert in Slovakia, DO NOT clap until the end of the final movement. Then, at the end of the piece, keeping clapping as long as everyone else does, to make up for the clapping you missed earlier. It's just the way things are, this century... Ironically, in Hummel's time, it was the done thing to demand encores by clapping after a particularly good movement, something that wouldn't be possible now. By the end of the second movement, the errant clapper sits silent and no doubt chastened, and the audience pauses to cough instead before the start of the rousing finale.
That's it! A good effort from Hummel, and the crowd streams out happily to the bar for the intermission. Now, if you're on your own, you have two choices. If you need the rest room, they're on your right. If you feel like a drink, however, head as fast as you can to the bar on your left, because the queue will quickly stretch its way all the way back to the doors. These Slovaks like a drink! Hesitate too long and you'll spend the rest of the intermission waiting for your turn while silver haired ladies swig brandy and vermouth around the tiny tables. (Actually, I saw said silver haired ladies pouring their own drinks from a bottle - I don't know if they got it from the bar or if they came prepared with their own plan to beat the queue.)
There's the bell! Assuming you managed either or both of your toilet stop and drink, head back to your seat as the Slovak Phil returns to stage.
Next it's Beethoven, and another crowd-pleaser - the Symphony No. 7. The orchestra really hits its straps here. In this small hall and with the symphony's big, rousing rhythms, the air itself seems to be pulsating with energy. Here is Hummel's problem writ large - his concerto was pleasant enough, but by the time the concert ends, I've forgotten every note. I walk home happily into the night, with Beethoven still ringing in my head.
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no subject
Date: 2012-04-24 02:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-24 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-24 03:26 pm (UTC)I don't expect good surprises from Asian restaurants in Europe, after my very few experiences, those Indonesian in Amsterdam and Indian in Prague were good. (I expect Vietnamese to be good in Prague, given the large number of Vietnamese there, but I haven't been there enough to try it). I'd love to hear what you ended up eating.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-24 11:10 pm (UTC)On Asian food in general, we did have some good Thai food on another night (they did serve all the sauces separately, which I suppose was a sensible concession to local tastes). I didn't try any Vietnamese food, but I did see a few restaurants around.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-10 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-10 07:57 pm (UTC)