Monday, July 28, 2008
Last night I watched "Music of the Heart," a Meryl Streep movie about a woman who teaches children at a school in Harlem to play the violin, and in the big finish the kids get to play in Carnegie Hall. For the most part it's a slight and clichéd movie with the expected scenes of kids with problems and resistant parents and the uncaring music director, ya da, ya da, ya da. But that isn't what caught my attention. I use headphones so I don't disturb anyone and from these poured the most glorious classical music. Then it struck me: when this music was created, very few had the privilege of hearing it.
Unlike me, in my pajamas, under my covers, watching a movie, the contemporaries of Mozart and Bach and Beethoven had to get dressed up, arrange to go out, enter a concert hall, and then wait in the expectant air for the first notes to float out to them. They had to make an effort in order to hear this music. The experience couldn't be trivial in any way. The composers demanded the best of themselves in order to present something of substance to their patrons. These masterpieces required translation from the score by the musicians and the conductor; an orchestra of individuals all committed to creating the artist's vision and with the talent to do so. The audience had but this one opportunity to hear the composite creation. There was no "hitting the charts with a bullet" for Hayden. Subsequent performances would each have a different energy and outcome based on audience reaction, conductor interpretation, and musicians' subtleties. Everyone involved understood the interplay necessary to bring each musical moment to fullness.
While it may seem a stretch to move from film to concert to soccer, it really isn't. Classical concert music was a collaboration just as soccer can be. Around the world fans understand that soccer requires their participation as part of that game's creation. Fans can manipulate a game's outcome at the very best and at the very least enrich the game with their energy. There are fans who watch games on television, but out of necessity, not out of laziness or comfort. Games are regularly sold out and rivalries fuel the attendance even further. So, watching on TV means watching from the cheap seats. You can tape a game and replay it, but it will always be exactly the same game with the same outcome, just as a taped live musical performance will be. You may notice a particular play better, but not a single nuance fluctuates or disappears. Each game, each concert stands as its own special moment.
Here in the U.S., we are slowly warming to the game as more and more youth take up the sport and increase the fan base with their parents, siblings, and grandparents. Watching a game live adds that dimension of audience to the "composition" the coaches, players, and referees create on the field. We have to get dressed up, arrange to go out, enter a stadium, and then wait for the first expectant play to explode on the pitch. Youth games offer some of that partnership between fans and actors, but they are so intimate that ironically the fans take on too big a role. The real energy and balance come as the size of the fan contingent grows.
Sunday I watched the LA Galaxy play Red Bull in front of 45,000 fans. The game was thrilling on so many levels, and in the stands a form of theatre was taking place that complemented the theatre on the field. At home I could cheer or moan or gasp, but I couldn't avail myself completely of the energy that the fans exuded. I couldn't be a full participant. The last five official minutes of the game and the four minutes of stoppage time proved to be as thrilling as any nine minutes of soccer have been. LA tied the game in the first two minutes of stoppage and then had three near goals in the next two minutes. Each wave of movement towards the goal gave off that dangerous electricity of anticipation which gets multiplied if you are so lucky as to be in the stands. I wanted to be transported to the stadium and fling myself into a seat with the same ferocity that those fans enjoyed. I'm neither an LA Galaxy nor Red Bull supporter, but I am a supporter of great, exciting, full-blooded soccer!
My rally now is to get anyone reading this blog out of his or her living room and into a stadium. With the phenomenal growth of soccer come the varied opportunities to become part of the composition. Most states have multitudes of opportunities to watch soccer as a part of a crowd. Go watch a college game, see amateur games which now include several national leagues for both men and women, see professional games, and should any overseas teams come within 200 miles of your home for a friendly, take the time to see them. While the chance to see increasingly exciting levels of soccer should be enough to get you out, I still say experiencing a game with tens of thousands of fans roaring and gesticulating around you makes the event both powerful and memorable. You have the ability to become part of the immediate and singular creation. There's nothing like it. Just remember that if you do attend a classical music concert, please don't use your air horn to show your appreciation for a great prelude. The comparison stops there.