NY Phil / Nov. 6

Probably my last NY Philharmonic concert before I leave the city.
Lang Lang was playing Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 1. Have to say, quite turned off by his excessive body language and overly-showy performing style. Although his flamboyance was quite fitted for pieces like Huang He, it was way too over the top for Beethoven. Julia and I were sitting at two sides of the stage on the balcony, while I was feeling quite disengaged seeing L.L.'s face as if he were in a ballroom dance, Julia was getting goose bumps observing him massaging the piano from the back.

The second half was Bruckner's unfinished Symphony No. 9. Loved it. This sense of intensity, mixed with somberness and tenderness, completely gripped me. I was pinned to my chair and couldn't help tearing up when hearing the strings of 1st and 3rd movements. Julia said they sound very "silky" to her, I guess that's the silky sense of flowing and delicateness. But to me, there's more to it, and I don't know how to describe it, just like my futile attempt to depict the sound of cello that I've been listening to for the entire fall. There's a lot of power in those strings, but the sound is not daunting, it wraps me around with warmth and sheds light when I walk home in the dark night. Maybe it's like velvet, instead of silk, to be seasonly appropriate.