vlad.tribnet.com / Issue #152 / Arts and Ideas / Reading article...

Lenin’s bas-relief head peeked from the dented metal frieze above the stage, and dried glue shone where it had dripped from lanterns on the walls. But the music – despite a few slips by soloists – was as enchanting as the opening of the Philharmonic Society’s 1997-98 season.

The concert brought out a standing-room-only crowd, who were so captivated by the players’ enthusiastic playing they didn’t seem to notice the stage’s warped floorboards.

With the strings crowded onto the tiny space and the horns forced to belt out notes from the back, it wouldn’t have been surprising if frustration at overcame the players, who ranged from teenagers to seniors. Yet the point, of course, was the music. Such circumstances bring out the true musician. Conductor Anatoly Tikhonov epitomized such an artist, as he jumped, pranced and graciously bowed during the concert – even when the audience clapped between movements.

The pathetic condition of the theater only heightened the appreciation of the players’ performances. When Raisa Ilyukhina, a piano instructor at a local music institute, missed a few notes during “Rhapsody in Blue,” the crowd demanded an encore anyway. It was as though they applauded her dedication to play in the dilapidated theater as much as her somewhat stiff performance of the jazz piece.

However, Ilyukhina’s rendering of a movement from Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2 sent chills down the spine, as the orchestra’s accompaniment filled the hall with the rich, disturbing tones of the piece.