Beethoven's Fifth

I had the good fortune to see the Berkeley Symphony Orchestra perform tonight. Part serendipity, part crime of opportunity, I charged out of a Flash session to the ticket booth across campus at 7:55 p.m. and scored a free ticket from a generous patron to the 8 p.m. show.

As I waited for the performance to start, the worlds of journalism and classical music bounced around my mind. I started to wonder how it was possible that 100-member cover band playing 200-year-old songs could be in business. Wasn't iTunes and Garage Band putting these folks out of business? The short answer is yes. Berkeley's symphony is not union, and most of the members are not full-time musicians, according to Jean, my mystery patron. (I trust her because not only did she act like she belonged there, she had great seats and considered serving on the board.)

That said, there was a robust crowd that certainly showed its enthusiasm after the final notes of Beethoven's Fifth. Guest conductor Joana Carneiro, who was essentially interviewing for outgoing conductor Kent Nagano's job, got a thumb's up. To be honest, it was her performance that moved me. I know very little about classical music, but it was hard not to notice that she was rising to her full potential. I had no idea conducting was so physical. (Full disclosure: At one point, her jerky hand motions made me think she was doing "The Robot," and I almost burst out in laughter.)

It's that kind of passion-on-your-sleeve performance that really speaks to me, no matter what the platform. It's hit me at Grateful Dead concerts, sports games, occassionally during movies, often when reading a great author, and -- now -- at the symphony.

Anyway, I thanked Jean profusely for the wonderful experience. She smiled and encouraged me spread the joy. "You're welcome, Justin. Take the spirit home."

Thanks, Jean. I'll do that.