The Netherlands Philharmonic and Beethoven’s 9th, A Life-Altering Experience

I attended a concert of the Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra along with the Amsterdam Toonkunstkoor, a performance of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, The Ode To Joy, at the famous Concertgebouw concert hall. What an incredible experience. I sat behind the orchestra in seats that are part of the “choir loft.” Those who are LDS or otherwise fans of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would recognize this set up: the choir sits facing the audience in seats that climb stadium-like high above the stage below and in front of them. In this case, the choir, about 125 people, were all gathered on stage right (the left as you look at it from the audience), and the right side of the choir loft was sold for 41 Euros a piece. 

There are some slight disadvantages to these seats, such as not being able to see the trumpet section (!). Furthermore, brass instruments being very directional, you get a full sound, but not that “chrome burn” sound of having the bells face you.

But the advantages! You feel like your part of the double bass section, you get to look out at the entirety of one of the most beautiful concert halls in the world, and, best of all, you are seeing the conductor how an orchestra member would see him. 

The symphonic form is made up of four distinct movements, and The Ninth is a unique symphony. The first three movements of Beethoven’s 9th take about 45 minutes, during which the choir and four soloists take no part. The famous Fourth Movement takes a whopping 25 - in itself is as long as most symphonies of the day – and is in essence a grand cantata. It’s also a freight train at times: the ground rumbles when the full choir and orchestra are giving their all. And this choir was so powerful, so deep. It just amazes you how they change dynamics, how they respond to every nuance of the conductor. This is especially after the whispering reverence of the strings section in the first and third movements. 

I almost cried in the first movement, seriously. But in the fourth, all I could do was sit there with this silly grin on my face. I wanted to jump up and cheer, as if I were at a drum corps show. 

One of the great challenges of the 9th, in my humble opinion, is the very end. It has a short, fast coda that just rushes up to the very last stinger, and in the recording that I most often listen to, the ending seems to come as if it were a surprise that no one is ready for. So as we came near the end tonight, I was consciously waiting to see how the Netherlands Philharmonic would handle it. Well, how does utter perfection sound? It sounds like tonight’s ending. Everyone was there for it tonight. And the last note just rang through the Great Hall!

Then comes the very symphonic, very classical music, very European ceremony that comes at concert’s end: the applause, the departure of the maestro and soloists, the multiple returns for bows, the inviting of the choir master for a bow, the orchestra and choir members rising and sitting in response to the graceful, sweeping gestures of acknowledgement from the conductor, the bringing of flowers onto the stage for the principles. 

So, a beautiful night, but how was this a life altering experience? Well, simply this. For a moment I thought of my grandfather, who had done the same thing I was doing tonight. We know so because he kept a list of concerts he attended and performances he participated in. And then it occurred to me that, having died at just 25 or 26 years old, there was a lot of music that he never got to hear, a lot of music he did not get to make. And I thought of all the time that I simply waste in my modern life, watching TV or the news, surfing the web, talk radio, in useless conversations on the trivial and banal. With all the great music out there - past and present, masterworks, or just a few of my own little pieces – it’s just immoral that I should continue to waste that time thusly and leave such great music unheard. What would Boice Carr think of so much great music time going to waste?

It further occurred to me that the use of my own time is my own decision, for the most part. Sure, there are classes to prepare and give, and research to do, and that is an essential and highly enjoyable part of my would-be career as an academic. But there is no excuse for time simply wasted. What would most greatly alter my life would be the rededication to pursuits that are, as the Apostle Paul put it, praiseworthy and of good report. Now, having learned what I did from the Rotterdam seminar, I can reflect and recognize some of the personal barriers that I have erected to my own progress on this account. There are rackets that I have run that have convinced me that my sloppy way of approaching the management of my time are a instead a useful and desirable disposal of that time. Yet all it really produces is massive frustration over hitting a dead end with regards to any sort of meaningful achievement, plus the regret that goes with wasted time, wasted energy, wasted potential. 

Gone should be those times, those activities that prevent me from filling my soul with this better thing, this feeling that is, well, a feeling I suppose to be love. 

So my most sincere gratitude goes to the Netherlands Phil and the Amsterdam chorus that so ably put the musical exclamation mark on the evening tonight. If I can but take just this lesson home with me from Amsterdam, I will be ahead of the game.