Practice, Practice, Practice
I finally made it to Carnegie Hall, but not, as in the joke, because of practice, practice, practice.
I grew up playing music. I went to lots of concerts. I spent time in New York. Somehow, though, I never had been to Carnegie Hall.
It’s the most famous concert hall in the United States, and one of the best known in the world. Built in 1881 on what was then the edge of Manhattan, it’s now in the middle of New York, just below Central Park at the corner of 5th Avenue and 57th.
Recently it occurred to me that by watching its schedule, I could not only see the hall, I could also hear the great orchestras of the world, virtually all of which make stops there as part of their American tours.
I checked this year’s schedule, and, sure enough, I discovered a week in which two great European orchestras would be playing: the Berlin Philharmonic and the Concertgebouw Orchestra (Amsterdam). I bought tickets, and Yvonne took care of the rest, including hotels, food, and a couple of Broadway shows.
We made arrangements to meet friends—our daughter Maggie, Barry and Kathy Dyer, Noam and Wendy Freshman.
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