Music with Class
Beethoven’s head has been hovering on a banner down Red River (the street) for quite a while.
It’s not every day a classical composers’ likeness floats by while cruising the pinnacle of Austin sin. Because of his riskiness to be in the neighborhood, I thought I might just give Austin Symphony a chance Sat. night.
The darkness of thunder and rain left me no choice: I would park in a handicap spot. Forgive me.
The hurried upper-class sounded like animals longing for shelter: the clip-clopping women in dresses and heels, men in their suits and black golf umbrellas, holding hands with their children who would soon grow up to be distinguished citizens—After all, their parents took them to see a rendition of Beethoven when they were four.
A little boy looked up at his dad, clad in plaid tucked into khaki, hair blond and resisting disturbance from the unfortunate weather, and said, “Why can’t I watch Star Wars dad? Luke Skywalker is a hero.” Even at four or five, why does this kid not have permission to watch Star Wars?
“You will like all the pretty instruments and the sounds they make,” the dad said. That wasn’t his question, I thought.
Yes, even the oxygen that filtered through the torrents of rain circling the symphony hall parking lot was even Westlake-worthy. It made me not believe that my ticket was so cheap. I only paid $19 to rub elbows with Austin’s finest. I sat behind the upright bass sections’ backs, of course.
I did wonder though what Beethoven would have thought of the main advertisement in the program, which said, “Plastic surgery is an art and we support people who support the arts.”
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