Carmen and Claps of Thunder

Last night turned into an impromptu evening of classical music with the perfect natural accompaniment. My boss had two tickets in the orchestra of the Mann Music Center for violinist Itzhak Perlman and the Philadelphia Orchestra. The lineup was as follows:
Chabrier: España
Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64
Shchedrin: Carmen Suite (after Bizet)

To my bosses chagrin I had no idea who Itzhak Perlman was nor did I understand that I was going to be seeing a rather famous violinist. To my chagrin, he wasn't very good. But that didn't really matter to me. I was in an outdoor concert venue built ground to ceiling with beautiful stained wood, watching the Philadelphia Orchestra (for the second time and I was blown away again) with my dear friend G who just so happened to study composition at Oberlin and little did I know....I was about to see one of the best finishes to a show ever thanks to the perfectly boiling thunderstorm that was preparing to take the stage.

After Mendelssohn's Violon Concerto in E Minor came the Carmen Suite. Now one of the most enjoyable parts about this piece is the fact that none other than LOONEY TOONS can be thanked for thousands of children worldwide knowing bits and parts of this piece created for the composer's ballerina wife. There were moments where I actually giggled to myself because I was one of those kids.

It was about 1/2 way into the Carmen Suite that the air started to take a different feel. The heavy mugginess of a weighted summer began to lift and give way to the sway of cool breezes. In the distance thunder began to rumble. It began as muffled whispers and over a period of 20 minutes grew into a booming bonanza of brilliance. It seemed as though the thunder would clap everytime there was a lull in the music, like God's own addition to an already lovely piece of music. As the Suite died down the sky built up. Lightning danced through the sky with smaller intervals between pirouettes, while the wind started to move the branches of the trees in a sensual sashay. The lightning bugs pranced through the pavilion like faeries and the crickets added their own section of strings to the eb and flow of music coming from the stage.

Many people chose to leave with the onset of pre-storm melodies but thanks to our "under the pavillion seats" G and I stuck it out and were able to enjoy an unprecedented evening of music and nature working together side-by-side.

When the music ended God took over and with a final sweep of the branches of the trees the downpour began. G and I prepared ourselves as we stepped out from under the eves of the pavilion and within 20 feet we were soaked to the bone. There was no fighting nature so instead we danced and bounced our way to the bus lifting our hands to the sky joining in the unparalleled applause of the forces that wrap us in beauty day after day.