What a gift! I can’t articulate it all…but it was Wonderful! The Ravinia Festival is such a lovely setting. There is an open pavilion that seats 2,000-3,000 people. Tickets for the pavilion are $$$pendy and were sold out immediately. Surrounding the pavilion is a large park with abundant trees, paths, and speakers situated so all can hear. Every square inch of ground (another 2000 people?) was filled with picnickers in lawn chairs, blankets, and lovely feasts. There were many wine glasses and fancy hor d’oevres as well as buckets of fried chicken and the ubiquitous bottles of water. The cicadas joined in the noise of the throng.
We arrived at 5:00, set up our little picnic and enjoyed my 2 year old grand-niece as we waited for the 7:00 concert. In our lawn chairs we could not see any musicians but could hear them perfectly. My BIL walked me to the rail around the pavilion where I could stand and get a glimpse of Mr. Ma performing. The Chicago Symphony opened with “The Three-Cornered Hat” and we sat around enjoying it.
Then such a bonus! Yo-Yo Ma played the Haydn Cello Concerto in C Major, a piece not on the original program. The minute I heard the cello, I jumped up and made my way to the railing. My family knew they wouldn’t see me for a while. When I got to the rail, crowds were 5 people deep trying to see the maestro. I stood, waited, tilting my head this way and that, and as people moved on, inched closer to the front.
Finally I could see him playing. He wore a white tuxedo coat with black slacks and a black tie. The cello shined in the spotlights, the warm hues of the wood in great contrast to the sea of black and white surrounding it. The music of Haydn flowed through Mr. Ma’s body so naturally; so much a part of him. At the end of some phrases he almost propelled out of his seat with the flourish.
I loved this: when the cello solo was silent for the orchestra playing, Yo-Yo played along with the orchestral cello part. That man loves music so much that it seemed he couldn’t sit back and wait for the next solo part – he was involved with every part of the music.
Watching his bowstrokes was fabulous. The bow sometimes very close to the instrument, very controlled. At other times it was dramatic and anywhere within five feet of his cello. He played the difficult notes up by the bridge so skillfully and the overtones were … perfect. The sound that came from that cello was so full, so rich, so complete. Tears filled my eyes as the ache of the incomparable beauty washed over me.
Thousands of people were perfectly still and listening with an unalloyed intensity. Some heads nodded with the music, others were perfectly still. I loved seeing so many younger people in the audience. It was a tingling sensation to participate with a culture that appreciates beautiful music.
With the last phrase the audience thundered applause and Mr. Ma was up on his feet giving the conductor a bear hug. No polite handshaking and chin-dipping here. There were hugs all around. I loved that about Yo-Yo Ma.
During the intermission most people left their posts at the pavilion railing. I was rooted to the rail though, not wanting to miss the opportunity to be in the front when the concert resumed. A woman my age was the only other person still hanging at the rail and we started conversing. Her 8th grade daughter, a cello student, was attending but on her blanket.
As people made their way back to the seats a woman approached me and said, “Excuse me…I have four tickets here for the pavilion and I’m headed home,” as she thrust them into my hand. I gave two to the other woman (that 8th grader couldn’t miss this opportunity), and ran 200 yards to the back where my people were. I grabbed my brother and we ran (I know – it’s a funny thing to picture) to the pavilion before the music began and seating stopped.
The next piece, Azul, was by a modern composer, Osvaldo Golijov (b.1960). The world premiere was on Friday night with Yo-Yo Ma in Boston. There were different instruments, different sounds. At first it sounded Slavic, then Middle-Eastern, but the prevailing “flavor” seemed like the African plains.
The final piece was the orchestra playing Ravel’s Bolero. The conductor conducted the piece with no score! Most of the time he held the baton backwards with the point facing him. Watching his hands move, not in the usual four-four pattern but expressively with flow of the music, was captivating. For much of the piece the violins were held and played like guitars!
Darkness descended and the light of citronella candles gave an twinkling ambience over the area. It was everything and oh! so much more! than I anticipated. What can I say? One of my life goals has been accomplished. God has been very kind to me. I sincerely thank my sister Margaret and her husband John for giving me this incredible gift.
A Living Pencil 