This year, as Washington University celebrates its Sesquicentennial, the various lectures, parties, and events commemorate the University’s humble beginnings and subsequent ascension into the top echelon of research universities. Indeed it was fitting that an outdoor concert by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra culminated the “birthday party” of September 14, for that very arts organization enjoys an ascension not unlike that of Washington University itself. Too frequently I hear students voice the illegitimate claim that we reside in a city devoid of arts. I invite these students to challenge such folklore and, rather than attending the next fraternity party or a cappella concert, step beyond Brookings Arch and go listen to the Symphony.
I did so Friday. While I admit my bias-I am a music major and delight in orchestral music-I firmly believe that most anyone, even the most unmusical among us, will be moved by the concert-going experience. Friday’s concert-which Post-Dispatch critic Sarah Bryan Miller called “one of the most successful concerts of recent seasons”-opened with a set of 20th-century compositions by Benjamin Britten, moved into a Haydn piano concerto that flawlessly represented classical precision, and ended with Tchaikovsky’s wrenching Fourth Symphony, a work that justified the Symphony season’s thematic branding, “The Spirit of Romanticism.” As the musicians brilliantly executed each selection, especially the demanding contrasts of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth, I found myself shocked by the technical ability of the players and conductor but simultaneously intrigued by the inaccessibility of Tchaikovsky’s first movement, humored by the buoyancy of his third movement, and startled by the mania of his fourth movement. As I left, I wondered: how is it that music, so systematic and orderly, can so powerfully represent the disorder of our human experience?
Judging by the Symphony’s national reputation, many seem to enjoy the concert experience as I did. Thematic parallels exist between Washington University’s rise and the Symphony’s ascent to national prominence. Founded in 1880, the Symphony-only slightly younger than the University itself-is the second-oldest orchestra in the country. Its storied history contains ups and downs, but now-just as the University attracts great scholars-the Symphony retains its place as a “destination orchestra” for the most promising talent, and, as famous tenor Placido Domingo stated, its reputation as a “treasure of the orchestral world.”
Just as the University is praised for its community involvement, the Symphony’s community initiatives-which bring free music to over 60,000 students, 600 schools, and countless parks, bookstores, and corporate offices annually-are lauded by the national press, including the Wall Street Journal. Just as the University claims notable facilities, Powell Hall (the Symphony’s home, also a national historic landmark) is renowned for its European ambience and acoustical authenticity. Much as Washington University has enjoyed numerous accolades, the Symphony’s 56 Grammy nominations and six trophies outdo any pop artist and stand as a tribute to the undying dedication and devotion of the Symphony’s musicians, staff, and-most important-audience.
Further, just as the University’s admissions office invests in its next “audience,” the freshmen class, the Symphony depends on young St. Louisans like Washington University students for its continued livelihood. Luckily, enjoying Symphony concerts as a student has never been easier: 90 minutes before each concert, the Symphony hands out 50 free tickets. Students may also log on to www.soundcheckstlouis.org and purchase $10 tickets to any concert; a student season ticket for six concerts costs a mere $49. Students are guaranteed the best seats available, and Powell’s tiered construction ensures adequate vision and hearing at any seating location. Students interested in the historical framework of an evening’s program may enjoy a pre-concert lecture. Hence, despite symphonic music’s undeserved reputation as snobby and aristocratic, an average night at the Symphony may, in fact, be far cheaper than a round of drinks at Blueberry Hill.
All of this is not to imply that students should abandon the hallmarks of college life, of course-parties, nights on the Loop, and on-campus events have a cultural value of their own. But once in a while, I encourage you to incorporate a hallmark of St. Louis-its Symphony Orchestra-into your social pattern by enjoying a magical concert at Powell Hall. In doing so, you gain not only personal pleasure but do your part to ensure that the Symphony, just like Washington University, can create the next great period of its legacy.