Taking Devorah’s advice and spare ticket, I decided to attend a comedy show at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade on the west side. My sister has been going to the UCB for years, but never successfully convinced me to attend. In part, I decided to attend because I needed to rack up some independent cultural events and because the show was specifically geared towards college humor. During high school I studied improvisation, which has certainly come in handy these last years.

After class a couple of us went with Professor Bergman to see the big auditorium at Carnegie Hall. As soon as I walked in I was amazed. The stage alone was unbelievably beautiful. The emptiness of the stage, except for a grand piano was very inspiring. I felt an urge to run up and just in the middle and take it all in! Of course I didn't, but it was still exciting. Looking out at the seats was also intimidating since there were so many; over 2000 I believe.

   In class, we were discussing the differences between an auditorium experience and a small hall performance. Though each carries its own advantages, I feel that the small hall, at least in a symphony concert, far outweighs the benefits of an auditorium. For the most part, the auditorium only has to offer as a major advantage the grandness of its room. Such a large space so eleoquently decorated is not something one can feast their eyes on at any given time. However, the small hall I felt is equally as beautiful in an intimate way.

   The fourth performance composed by Guo Wenjing was definitely an unexpected type of musical piece. Though the compostion did not rank best against my own ratings, it surely had unique features. To begin, each musician held in each hand two wooden rods. The fact that they were capable of controling each hand, and even more amazing each individual rod and sending them out in different directions simultaneously was clearly a dominated skill. Hence, just visually watching their hand work served as a treat.

     After listening to each piece of the China Festival at Carnegie Hall, I came to the conclusion that the first composition was my favorite. The pianist was not only skilled but visually seemed to be in deep concentration resulting from the object of his affection: the musical keys.  At first, the music by the composer Chen Qigang began with a slow tempo. It then moved onto a very quick, almost violent and eerie beat. Occasionally, the pianists would apparently bang the keys and then juxtapose such aggression with a smooth rising of tempos.