THE EIGHTH

 I just got through watching a performance of Beethoven's Eighth Symphony by the Los Angeles Symphony at an empty Hollywood Bowl (thanks to Covid-19) with Gustavo Dudamel conducting. Despite the reminders of our current predicament--the obligatory masks, the rows of empty seats, the plexiglass partitions separating the musicians--it was a heartening experience.

My thought throughout: what an incredible gift to the world. Had the composer written just this one symphony, the gift would have been inestimable. It awes the mind--and I find it infinitely humbling--to know that it is only one small part of the legacy he left behind him. Richard Wagner is said to have called the symphony "the apotheosis of dance" and to hear it played, even for one with as little musical savvy as myself, is to understand exactly what he meant. The often familiar, sometimes lilting melodies enliven the heart and mind and evoke that irresistible and lyrical bodily response. 

And Dudamel is amazing. To watch him is to see a man unreservedly and ecstatically in the moment. His whole being dances on his podium with the music. To conduct, I suppose, is to act as medium for the music; but more than that it is the art of communication with other human beings, the ability to engage in the dance with each of the performers individually and together, and convey his wishes, his instructions, his vision in a gesture or a glance. In Dudamel we see a man in love not only with the music--though especially that--but also with his orchestra, whose instrumentalists respond in kind. What we witness on the stage is a subtle and engaging act of love, with foreplay, rhythmic progression, crescendo and climax. It's a beautiful and deeply moving spectacle.

So... what a lovely experience for a Sunday morning. Thanks to Dudamel, the Philharmonic, and Beethoven himself for a much-needed uplift at a moment of critical anxiety for--no exaggeration!--the future of the world. The example of gifts like this renews hope for the human species.