Carnegie Hall

I really enjoyed listening to the Mutter Virtuosi. Well I suppose it can’t just be limited to the listening, since the atmosphere and the sights contributed to whatever I was feeling as well. And that’s precisely the thing I wasn’t sure of before the performance—if I could close my eyes and experience the same thing with them open.

With my eyes closed, I could easily have been listening to a recording of the music. Not to say that listening to a recording isn’t “good,” but there’s something to a live performance that makes it all the more magical. Feeling the aura of Carnegie Hall—the lofty walls, plush red seats (albeit tight), the tons of music lovers all around—could only happen through the sense of vision. On top of that, watching the musicians as they played was fascinating. At times the harmony was so in sync that it seemed robotic, the way their arms moved back and forth at the exact same angle and speed. It really contributed to what I was listening to: those movements matched the music’s tenser and faster-paced moments, while the graceful swaying of Mutter and her students enhanced feelings of love and freedom that the blissful music expressed. At times they felt like more than musicians; they were dancers. And for me, that induced more than just an appreciation for classical music.