Prompt 29: Beethoven's Fifth

As my final project in an elective music class a few years back, I chose to attend a classical music concert and write a review. The concert was being held at the University of Maine Orono's Collins Center for the Arts and was to be a performance of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Very Exciting. I had been to the Arts Center before as a member of the Maine All State Choir, a wonderful experience. But I had never had the pleasure of attending a classical music concert ever before. So as you can imagine, I had no idea what to expect. As the days grew closer to the date of the concert, I started to think like a high school girl after having just been asked to the prom. What would I wear? I need a haircut. I was prepared for a masquerade ball like the one in the Phantom of the Opera. But what I got was something a bit different.

I dressed in my best, and it should be noted my only suit. Fitted black charcoal with a blue patterned shirt; black tie of course. I was ready to be filmed. I looked good and I smelled good. I drove up to the Orono campus and began the Carmen Sandiago like search for a parking lot. Being it late November, the air was cold and crisp and a little snow covered the brown lawns and frost bitten pavement. I finally found a space what seemed like seven miles away. I locked up the car and began to walk in my shiny, black shoes toward the hall. I observed many of the other people walking in the direction I was, presumably attendees of the same show I was destined for. But what threw me off was that many of them looked like they had just left the gas station. Sure there were a few who looked the part; well dressed with a black overcoat and red scarf. Yet, many did not look as though they were attending a fancy shmancy orchestral performance, but a local McDonalds. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but the reality was not meeting my expectations.

I entered the Hall vestibule and presented my ticket to the two young college students in the booth. I then made my way through the large lobby that surrounded the concert hall in a half moon shape. Artwork plastered the walls. Everywhere I looked there were African tribal masks or abstract impressionist oil paintings. The place was borderline ostentatious. Yet the observations I had made of the attendees outside were magnified within the hall. I was comforted and reassured that I had not overdressed after seeing several individuals and families dressed in a manner befitting a classical music performance. Others attire, however, made me, a dude from Downeast Maine, feel like a first class passenger on the Titanic.

I took my seat in the hall next to a beautiful, finely dressed young girl. Now that's what I'm talking about. The show was amazing; everything I anticipated it would be musically. The infamous four note motif echoed through the hall, filling everyone with natural exhilaration. The second, third and fourth movements truly moved me as I closed my eyes, studying the music for my final paper. I let the music sweep me up and carry me with it. And when I finally came to rest, I knew I had chosen the right course. I was indeed going to have and amazing paper and presentation.

But the coup de grace, though not quite the grace part, was awaiting me just as I exited the main hall. As I made my way through the lobby and to the doors, I saw to my left what appeared to be members of the cast of Mad Max. I could not believe my eyes as I saw a couple, clad in leather, torn blue jean, and spandex, walking my way. They were speaking with someone, laughing, and generally having a good time. I thought to myself, “I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined this.” They were a living, breathing stereotype with dyed mohawks and giant earrings. I exited the building and made my way home with an entirely new paradigm. Did I judge them? No. Did I assume a little too much about who I might find at a swanky classical music concert? You betcha. And we all know what happens when you assume.

I earned an A on my paper.