A Mushy 'Make-Up' Letter to the Dallas Symphony Orchestra

Dear DSO,

Please accept my sincere apology.  I'm sorry to say that I almost completely forgot about you for just a brief moment in time.  It wasn't entirely my fault though.

Let me explain.

Do you remember that scene in the film Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth Bennet is dancing at the ball with the handsome Mr. Darcy; and then suddenly, as they peer deeply into one another's eyes, everyone else in the room seems to disappear?  Well, that's exactly what happened to me.

Don't get me wrong, you were so impressive when I walked into your big fancy party on Saturday night.  I smiled for the cameras; and with a glass of champagne in my hand, I giggled with friends.  While a serenade from your Young Strings live ensemble wafted through the air, I slowly inhaled the intoxicating aroma of a beautiful white rose that was embedded in one of your elaborate floral arrangements from Todd Events.

I was as wowed as ever.

All the men looked especially dapper; and the women were wearing such elegant long gowns that at one point I overheard someone say, "I think we need a conductor, there are so many trains in this place." Your guest list, which included elected officials, international visitors, and philanthropists like Margaret McDermott and Margot and Ross Perot was no doubt quite notable.

As you know, Gala Co-Chairs Jennifer and Coley Clark and Katherine and Key Coker appeared onstage alongside The Honorable Glenn Hegar who, with his wife Dara Hegar, was an Honorary Chair of the glamorous affair.  Your President and CEO Jonathan Martin gracefully delivered opening remarks to a sold-out-capacity crowd, letting us all know that the evening's proceeds would benefit music and education programs for North Texans.  You're so generous like that, DSO.

Then you took the stage, and all was well at first. My heart quickened with anticipation as your remarkable Music Director Jaap van Zweden led you in Beethoven's Concerto in D major for violin and Orchestra, Op. 61.  Your sweetly exhilarating sound ascended the chamber heights as if in a swirling cloud of dancing notes throughout the concert hall.  You never fail to stir my soul.

But then it happened.

You allowed the beloved superstar violinist Pinchas Zukerman to perform with you.  What were you thinking, DSO? And, more importantly, what did you expect me to do?

I tried, I really tried my best, to keep my attention fixed on your wonderfully uplifting and inspiring musical tones.  But as Zukerman's fingers moved so swiftly and deftly across the neck of his violin, my gaze shifted to become locked on him alone.  I was increasingly drawn in by his exquisite virtuosity, and I was utterly mesmerized by the delicately dramatic and even suspenseful sounds he produced.

Sadly, I have to admit that somewhere along the way you disappeared like that crowd of partygoers around Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.  I mean, I was vaguely cognizant of your presence.  I think I remember hearing you there ... ever so subtly plucking strings melodically in the background, and very softly blowing those horns in a steady and reassuring manner.  I wanted to be there for you DSO, I really did. But Zukerman's charms were so alluring that they captivated my heart with a fervor that was hard to resist.

 

However, as if waking from a dream within a dream, my passions were reignited when you came bounding into my consciousness once again with Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 in A major, Op. 92.  Your delightful enthusiasm was a multifaceted blend of the ethereal and magical, the dreamy and enthralling, the upbeat and whimsical.

Once again, you reclaimed my heart.

You can't blame me for my only-natural momentary lapse, DSO.  But even if you did, I suspect that you've already forgiven me anyway.  I appreciated that at the end of the concert, you accompanied me to that spectacular afterparty hosted by the Vivaldi Patron Circle where Anna-Sophia van Zweden was the Honorary After-Party Chair. You offered me those delicious chocolate-covered strawberries, tiramisu, and banana creme pudding as we strolled through the lobby of the regal Meyerson Symphony Center.  You also invited me to your upcoming Die Walkure show next April, and you know I'm very excited about that.  You even made arrangements to have NorthPark's Make Up For Ever refresh my lip gloss and The Ritz-Carlton massage my feet after you led me to your faux-marble dance floor where the persistently-energetic DJ Lucy Wrubel made it clear that we just needed to "Shut Up and Dance."

Thank you for understanding, DSO.  I'm glad we had this talk, and I look forward to seeing you again very soon.

Mostly attentive always,

Your Devoted Arts Patron