Boston Philharmonic Youth Orchestra Plays Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony

I come to the symphony to judge. I wear my suit with wing tips on because others cannot. Brecht and I agree on all matters except the cigar.

Imagine my surprise, when, at the esteemed Playing of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony by the Boston Philharmonic Youth Orchestra In the Twenty-Dollar Seats a woman meekly coughs.

Enraged I glared, at the Woman, who, most likely a simple Parent, not an Appreciator of Fine (philharmonic youth) Orchestra, had made me almost miss the fuddled string ostinato in the first movement.

I would have continued my Absolute Rule of the Cheap Seats but, I twitchingly noticed another Parent in front of me conducting with his hands. He used to play trumpet, I thought, since he noticed parts I hadn’t heard before. This passing discovery quickly faded as my vision turned red with anger. So much so that I almost missed the baritone sax playing as if his deaf grandmother was waiting outside.

This cacophony, this splendid (philharmonic youth) Orchestra, these communal peasant masses dancing, belting, shuffling, jeering, it’s what the old drunk would have wanted.

And if he didn’t, well, I forgot to grab a playbook and fell asleep before curtain.