A Night at the Opera House, part 1

With a roar of applause, Nigel Kennedy came on stage leading the Sydney Symphony Orchestra members after shouting an audible locker room style cheer from off stage. Just from the looks of him I knew I was in store for a classical performance unlike any I had experienced before. With his head shaved except for a deliberately unkempt patch on top, wearing a loose-fitting collarless black jacket that more resembled a beauty salon gown than a tuxedo, his entrance was more befitting a rock star than a violin virtuoso.

The crowd had grown anxious as we awaited the very tardy performers. But, all was obviously forgiven as he plunged into a solo Beethoven treat that was not on the program. Fast and furious, I was immediately absorbed in his mastery of the music and his instrument.

Having arrived at the Sydney Opera House early before the show, the sun was just beginning to set. We walked around inside the grand hallways, marveling at the architectural details that mimicked and reflected the über-famous exterior. Our seats were in an upper balcony, velvet and fuchsia colored. But, actually, there was not a bad seat in the whole Concert Hall since they were arranged 360 degrees around the central stage.

Kennedy played solo and directed the orchestra through Mozart's Violin Concerto No.4 in D, K218. Marvelous! He played with such style and enthusiasm, and it was so obvious the orchestra had a fun time with him as well. The delicate, light notes lilted through the hall. The harpsichord added an historic touch. Heavier notes resonated, full and bold. The performance was Kennedy's take on the piece, interpreted as I've heard jazz: as a dialog. Call and response between the soloist and the orchestra, or the soloist and another individual musician, was something I'd have thought unheard of in classical music, which is typically performed with such formality. The crowd was ecstatic!

His antics continued through to the end of the show. Apparently Kennedy and the first violinist were old school mates, so we were treated to a face-off of the two master musicians. They played a duet, which turned into a competition of sorts: prompting each other to progressively produce some of the highest notes a violin can play. He spoke of his co-stars as "proverbial MF's" with their exceeding talent. He spoke to the crowd, saying how important it is to be a patron of live music, and how much he enjoys "playing for live cats." The swagger in his step, whether from the drink, or drunk with creative passion, was genuine Kennedy.

Two encores later, I think the classical enthusiasts may have been a bit confused by the improv turn that took place after the end of Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D, Op.61. Beethoven's a bit of a sleeper, though, if you ask me. And I think the balding guy who nodded off in front of me might agree. But if all audiences could experience the treat of witnessing Kennedy and the SSO's playful theatrics, the sheer joy expressed through the music, classical music's reputation would change forever for the better.