Het Concertgebouw (or Only Happy Accidents)

Het Concertgebouw

Knowing that we had a week in February to travel, we set our sites on Portugal. About three weeks ago we decided to delay our Portuguese excursion until April when the weather would be much better and use the Crocus Break (as this week is called) to visit our family in London. We also decided to start our vacation with an experience that was long over due for me.

Almost every week Debbie attends the lunchtime concert at the “Concertgebouw” in Amsterdam. One week I was able to go with her, but when I did, the recital was held in the “kleine zaal” (small hall). Because I have never heard any performance in the “grote zaal” (large hall) we decided to book a concert. Looking over the menu of choices was paramount to looking through the window of a toy store. There didn’t seem to be a bad choice. Finally and by using timing as the prime determinant, we selected Mozart’s Requiem—you know, a little light fare for a Sunday morning.

I know the Requiem. I have a bit of a special place for the Requiem. The day of my mother’s funeral I used it to pull from me the rest of the tears that I hoped would not embarrass me in public. I played it. I played it loud. I let it sink in to the extent that I could almost hear her threaten me one last time to “turn that down; and I mean it!”

View from our seats

When we were deciding I think really I voted for the Requiem as opposed to dozens of other choices because I wanted in some dark way to miss her like I did in the first hours after she died. It’s jock itch for the soul: the more you scratch it, the better it feels and the more it hurts.

Het Concertgebouw (The Concert Hall) is among the first examples of magnificent Dutch architecture that I saw on my first visit to Amsterdam four years ago. On that day, I planned to meet my cousin, Cindy (the same cousin we will visit in London) on Museumplein, the majestic grassy park leading to the Rijksmuseum. The Concertgebouw faces that and is where I departed my very first tram ride.

 

View from the King's Box!

In Amsterdam late in the1800’s the Park Hall theatre, notorious for poor acoustics was scheduled for demolition, and the Felix Meritis Building was deemed too small for world-class musical performances. At the same time De Amsterdammer (newspaper) assessed the state of the arts in town by writing, “While the leaders of all self-respecting cities abroad have made sure their cities are graced with good concert halls, our government has declared that these ill-fated ‘arts’ are not its’ responsibility.” With that in mind six illustrious citizens formed the “Provisional Committee to build a concert hall.”

 

Rijksmuseum

One of the first decisions of the committee was to hire Pierre Cuypers, the architect of the Rijksmuseum, which was already under construction. Cuypers’s contribution was to negotiate the purchase of the land on which the new concert hall would be built. Seeing it today amidst the sprawl of the city which seems to reach out from the urban center near Centraal Station with radiating streets and ancient neighborhoods all the way south to truly suburban satellites such as Amstelveen, it is easy to forget that by the time it was completed in 1886, the Concertgebouw was merely on the edge of town. In fact, it took two additional years to fill in canals, build access roads, and install street lamps. Het Concertgebouw held its grand opening on 11 April 1888.

Like I said, I know the Requiem, so when we found our seats, which were ostensibly behind the orchestra, I wondered where the choir would sit. When I sat down and finally looked at the program I had received upon entering, I wondered how such a world-class joint could give out the “wrong” program. When the pianist struck the first notes of “The Requiem” I wondered if these people had ever heard of Mozart!

Um…see what had happened…

The performance of The Requiem was, in fact, scheduled for this date, just not at this time. Hey, as tv painter Bob Ross used to say about his craft: there are no mistakes, just happy accidents. That day was one such happy accident. Hey, stuff happens.

The first half of the concert was Tweede Pianoconcert (The Second Piano Concert), op.102 by D. Sjostakovitsj, performed by Denis Matsuev and the Radio Filharmonisch Orkest. Instead of the weight cast by the overwhelming Requiem, we were given the gift of a truly astounding expression of joy. By virtue of our seats, we could see Matsuev’s hands move in breath-taking speed and accuracy from one end of his keyboard to the other and back again. It was to life as the Requiem is to death.

The last half of the performance was Rachmaninoff’s first symphony. Op. 13. Again, simply brilliant. A small amount of research revealed a bit of background that makes the performance even more special. Performed (badly) only once during his lifetime, the 1^st Symphony was the source of great angst for Rachmaninoff. Left behind when he went into exile and ostensibly lost until 1945, the symphony has since been recreated and currently deserves the reputation it has earned.