Holy cow, I wrote a book!
This past weekend, a group of us attended a subscription concert
performance of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis
at Benaroya Hall.
We collectively hold a block of seats, and it's a mix of
regulars and rotating guests.
Our seats are close to the stage, made even closer by the
to accommodate the choir and soloists;
we were effectively in the first row.
(And if you were wondering what those covered holes in the floor
are up near the stage, they're where the supports go for the stage extension.)
As we filed into our seats,
one of our guests for this particular concert
exclaimed in mock consternation,
"Oh no, I have an obstructed view of Joshua Roman!"
I switched seats, giving our guest a slightly
better potential view of the young cellist.
In exchange, I got a much better view of Elisa Barston,
the new principal second who probably would have gotten
most of the ooh-aah attention if it weren't for the
even younger new cellist.
(Normally, I only get to see the left-hand side of her body,
since the Seattle Symphony
splits the violins left and right, more in keeping with 19th-century
It was somewhat strange seeing her from the other side
when she led a string quartet and therefore sat on the left-hand side.)
Ultimately, the seat swap didn't help much with the Joshua Roman
viewing opportunities, because the conductor and soloists occupied
most of the field of view.
Afterwards, we jokingly
discussed various ways we could express our Joshua Roman
ranging from giant "We Love You Joshua Roman" placards to
At least I hope they were joking.