Cell Phone Symphony

Last night a bunch of us went to see the Cell Phone Symphony with the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra, although that wasn't what was scheduled to be on the program...

The concert featured clarinetist Giora Feidman, who is supposedly one of the most famous klezmer musicians in the world. He began the concert from the back of the audience, walking down the aisle while playing strains of "Yerushalyim Shel Zahav." It was incredibly beautiful and eerily moving, until another strain of music came forth from the audience: the Nokia cell phone ring.

Mr. Feidman stopped in his tracks, ceased playing for a moment, and then proceeded to start the piece all over again. This must have happened about three more times before he finally reached the stage and finished the piece. Then the conductor politely asked everyone to please turn off their cell phones.

But the conductor wasn't miked, so his plea to the patrons was met with loud screams of "Lo Shomim! Lo Shomim!" -- the Hebrew version of "We can't hear!" I used to think that nothing could be more annoying that those chattering alta cockers in New York who make similar remarks when they can't hear what's going on in a theater, but this was far, far worse. People were just downright rude! 

Then Avi Avital, a mandolin player, took the stage for the world premiere of a piece written for mandolin, clarinet, and strings. As he played through a particularly intricate and stirring passage, he too was interrupted by our old friend Nokia. This time, the phone kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing, until Mr. Avital finally cut the piece short and angrily stormed off the stage. 

Needless to say, I was speechless -- it's bad enough for a phone to go off by mistake, but it takes real chutzpah to let it keep on ringing! The next piece, Haydn's Piano Concerto in D Major, was thankfully not interrupted by cell phones. It was, however, marred ever so slightly by a concert- going public who didn't seem to understand the concept of concerto movements. Rather than saving their applause until the very end of the piece, they clapped in between each movement -- sometimes they even clapped in the middle of a movement at a cadential moment! Not to mention the fact that there were certain people in the audience humming along rather loudly to the music....

But the piece was incredibly unique in the sense that the conductor, Peter Breiner, also served as pianist for the concerto. He actually conducted the piece from the keyboard, turning a massive piano concerto into a piece of chamber music! In the final movement, Maestro Breiner inserted strains of Hatikvah and improvised a jazz riff, all the while still landing on the tonic! I never thought I would hear Haydn infused with Hatikvah -- it seems like a rather unlikely combination -- but this actually worked quite well. Maestro Breiner played with great personality and musicality as well -- this was definitely my favorite part of the evening.

Regardless, the bottom line is that Israelis need a serious crash course in concert-going etiquette, although one of my classmates smartly reminded me that classical music is a Western art form, and we are currently living in a Middle Eastern country.

I will say that the one positive aspect of this being a uniquely Israeli concert was that the orchestra began the evening with a gorgeous rendition of Hatikvah. The audience stood with pride and sang along, and at the end broke out into yelps and applause, just like we Americans tend to do at sporting events! Oh, and there's also the fact I was able to freely take pictures without anyone stopping me (despite the fact that it felt strange to do so in a concert hall), and I'm happy to share a photo of the orchestra as well as a shot of Dina, Frani, and myself.

Enjoy, and Shabbat Shalom!