Ooops!!! seem’s like I’ve used that title before, (sigh) early Alzheimer’s I guess,….anyway;
IF you were fortunate enough to be born in Boston, Massachusetts, and IF you are fortunate enough to have been to the Esplanade (HUGE open air grass area with MASSSIVE open Amphitheater, on the 4th of July, then YOU knowwhat I’m saying! From the Maestro himself, Arthur Fiedler for over 40 years, (Shit I was about ten so he must be even older!) There was the 4th of July Concert. Hundred,…no make that THOUSANDS of people waiting all day oon the grass, thier children, thier children’s children, shit,…generations of us, all waiting for the Maestro to take the podium of the Boston Pops. An idea concieved in the forties I believe, that music belongs to all ages, and the education into music and it’s CELEBRATION are sacred.
With White jackets, in the sweltering heat, the maestro raised his baton,…and it began.
As a young child I don’t remember each years whole program, but it ranged from the classical renderings you would expect from a “pick up group” of 60 or so musicians, of the very formal Boston Symphony Orchestra, who were dedicated to bringing a FREE concert to “the people of Boston”.
The beginning, the middle, well,…suffice it to say they were there, because I was a kid most of the years I went,…BUT the “END” ,….WOW, WOW, WOW!!!!!!
It began every year with a very quiet few notes, “da,da, da da, da, da, da dadada!,” and a complete hush (and I mean an absolutely mind boggling quiet) would fall over the crowd. The volume would pick up a bit,…newbies would applaud, regular Bostonians would look at them in an “annoyed” way,…silently. The music rose, it fell, it laid out a musical story,….Peter Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture!!
Your heart and head knew every note,…your eyes teared up with the understanding of the emotions brought to life through your ears of the battle, the bloody raveges of war, the deaths, the passion, the dedication,…all building to perhaps the greatest classical “orgasm” in man’s history.
The struggle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, love versus hate,…every emotion you have ever felt,…all in a single few moments of musical notes on a piece of paper, and interpreted by the Maestro to his 80 plus musicians. The cresendo builds, the passions reach new heights, babies are awes struck, old folks just smile beatifically with thier eyes shut, teens just stare and wonder “How did this get to me?”, adults just revel in everything,….and we all know what’s coming,…we all just draw in breath and in that one instant hold it,…because we are anticipating.
“BOOM”, and another, “BOOM” and yet another, “BOOM”. It’s the cannons, or more aptly the howitzers of the famous “Yankee Division” from a dozen different areas around the Esplanade as it parallels the world famous Charles River, the silouettes of Harvard University, Boston University, the entire skyline of Boston, all begin to come alive! Really alive.
The cannons boom out , perfectly timed with Tchaikovsky’s music, and all of a sudden light erupt, fire works sailing skyward, exploding in dozens of colors, hundreds of shapes, one after the other,…and it continues, in what seems like an hour of absolutely magical blending! The “Pop’s” are now simply an adrenilen extension of everything around them. There is nary a note that is not absolute perfection, you know that wherever Peter Tchaikovsky lies in repose he is smiling, he is laughing, and he is sublimely happy forevermore, for the emotion, the passion, and the very soul of his being wrapped in this musical work, is being magnificently, and flawlessly set forth for us,…the people!
The cannons continue, the fireworks trying to shout over them, The “Pops” orchestra above them all,…a cacophony of pleasure and majesty for the ear and mind,
the bells begin, a concerted coordinated execution of every single church bell in the great City of Boston, Massachusetts, they begin to ring, and ring,…and ring! The story of the War of 1812 is coming to it’s conclusion. The strong resoult sound of the French Marsailles, trumped and redoubled by the English anthems. The ever building finale is at hand, the “stretch” is at hand, foreworks still blazing, cannons suddenly silent, and the Pops are the final narration of this history,…dah dah dah, ..dah, ..dah, dah, dah, dah,dah,……daaaaaaahhhhh!
If you are not melted, teary eyed, moved , or otherwise euphoric,….well you just arenot human, please leave the room.
The fourth of July on the Boston Espanade, parallel to the Charles River, Harvard and B.U on the left, the skyscrapers of Boston on the right, the clouds of smoke from the fireworks still drifting westward on the wind, and the total outbreak of applause, whislting, screaming and cheering,….it does’nt get any better.
It’s what being a “Boston boy” is all about. It’s the glue that makes the dreams and the struggles of my immigrant grandparents worth it to my memories of thier struggles for my parents and then me. It’s the IV line connecting me to a place, a time, and the memories of a life time in the scant eight to ten minute of the Overture.
It’s my roots, whether I’m in Florida, Mexico City, Bermuda, England, Ireland, Spain, Italy, or at sea! The fourth of July is the Bostin Pops, the espanade, the Yankee Division, and Peter Tchaikovsky,….thank you all.
I am proud to be an American, a Bostonian, and a part of a free world!!
Now ask the networks why they botched the shit out of this with “canned music”, over the hill “rock stars”, and a Scottish emcee.
Must it all be about the “ratings and the money”, or is there still room left for simple artistic BRILLIANCE?
-30-
I would not disgrace such a monumental and “traditional custom” with my repulsion of the greedy nasty “system” prostituting this event into 60 minutes, cut, commercial show,cut 3 more commercials, etc.
God I love a GREAT pull of the heart strings !!
If I can find a recoding of this on the net I’ll let you know,…but it’s one of my “end game” wishes to be ther agian, and IF for some reason the Gods smile on me, giving me a chance to actually take the baton and direct it,…now THAT is HEAVEN!!
By: Mr. Guinness on July 5, 2007
at 8:30 pm
Thank God I’m not the only one that was pissed about this. Ever since I was little I’ve loved watching the Boston Pops Orchestra perform and the fireworks. Always hoping to go see a concert of theirs someday. This year it greatly sucked!! I recorded it on tv and didn’t watch it until last night and was hugely disappointed!! Were they burning a marijuana field around there all day or what?! And the people in the crowd! They say us Nebraskans are rednecks. 😛 And what was with the whole recorded songs at the end complete with the Seaseme Street song? I may have to dedicate a blog post to this as well. Maybe we can start a blog firestorm about it across the country and they’ll make it better next year 😛
By: SuvvyGirl on July 6, 2007
at 9:07 am
LOVE YOU SUVVY GIRL!!!
SACRED is SACRED!!. As a kid (9 to 16 years old) I was there every year.The “Pop’s” helped develope my love of classical music. Even today, forty-five to fifty- fiove years later Classical music lets my mind imagine (old fart word meaning; to allow the mind to concieve what is yet to be real!) the fireworks to Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, and hundreds of other greats!
Why should we allow a “prostitude” for music substitute for the REAL THING.
I’m not a “high-brow”, but I was a seasons ticket-holder of the Boston Symphony Orchestra for years. To think in the quiet and solitude of your “personal space” about the genius of any of the aforementioned composers,….well, think of the era in which they lived, the dangers of Tuberculosis, the plague, the opportunity for death from a simple “cold”, and then consider what they gave us!!
I love the Beatles, the Animals, the Stones, but in 200 years will my great, great, great, great grand children?
There is always the test of time,…some pass,…most fail!
Maybe I’ll start a website to “Bring Back The POP’S!!
Mr. Guinness
By: Mr. Guinness on July 6, 2007
at 7:01 pm
By: Anonymous on July 9, 2007
at 5:00 pm