Bad Sign Number Six Million And Seventeen

[bloodyrosemccoy]

Sitting in the second row at the symphony listening to a stellar orchestra produce a velvety billow of music,* with magnificent cadences and brilliant cohesion—and having nothing in my head but cuddly G-rated slash scenes involving the very flail-oriented conductor and the cute young soloist.

 

I couldn’t help it! The conductor had the fluffiest fauxhawk I’ve ever seen! And he winked at the soloist between movements! Winked! No jury would convict me, dammit!

 

 

*I’d never heard Sibelius before.  The program noted that “Dark, somber colors predominate” in this Concerto For Violin In D Minor, Op. 47, to which I indignantly replied, “Are you kidding?  That’s the yellowest concerto I’ve ever heard!” Usually string music takes on the burgundy of the lower strings for me, but this one was inescapably the color of white wine.

Comments

[bean-bunny.livejournal.com]

*I’d never heard Sibelius before.

I'm going to do you a favor. Go look up a recording of Symphony No. 2 by Sibelius. Surely it's at least on YouTube if it's not at the public library. Any sane person would love that piece. It sounds like you already heard my other favorite Sibelius.

Other people like Finlandia, but #2 is really where the money is.

Sibelius is one of the dudes that wrote like he did full well knowing that the Ruskies would kick his ass for it. (Shostakovitch was another.)