Guest blogger Mandy Meisner waited more than 20 years to hear her teenage idol in person.
As an arts high school student in the 1990s, I had some unconventional idols. Others my age may have been swooning over Kirk Cameron and New Kids on the Block, but my music classmates and I had pictures of Joshua Bell on our walls. My best friend Katie and I would sigh over him in our dorm rooms, listen to him on the radio and obsess over his documentaries. We were his biggest fans.
It seems hard to believe that despite my devotion, it took another 25 years for me to finally hear him perform live last month with the Minnesota Orchestra. Here’s how the evening played out.
I arrive at Orchestra Hall for a rare Monday night concert, excited beyond belief. The energy is palpable, even in the lobby. After taking my seat, I think about Katie and the countless hours she spent practicing with her long fingers dancing over her viola, making etudes sound like a private concert. I know how much she would have loved listening to tonight’s concert. I recognize a bit of our youthful exuberance in the young woman sitting next to me in the auditorium, fresh faced in glasses and a teal dress. Her name is Hannah, and this will be the first time she’s heard Joshua play. We bond over the exciting opportunity, and I later learn that she is a violin student of Minnesota Orchestra musician Aaron Janse who will be attending Vanderbilt in next fall on a full scholarship studying Political Science.
Mandy (center) with Hannah Bruns (right), a violin student of Minnesota Orchestra musician Aaron Janse, with Hannah’s mother Victoria at left.
When Joshua walks on stage to play Wieniawski’s Concerto No. 2, he exudes an approachability and pleasantness. There remains an element of boyishness to him. Perhaps it’s his hair that still sways across his forehead. He closes his eyes in preparation and when he begins it is everything I hope my idol will produce. It is perfection. Starting out with an incredibly lush sound that arcs throughout the Hall, his music clings to us in gooey phrases.
His technique is brilliant, nimble and sparkling. There is a wisdom and heaviness to his playing. His body sways to the music naturally, unsensational but heartfelt. During his rests, he is still with closed eyes and disheveled hair. There are long stretches of time that I forget to take notes because I am so enthralled in the moment.
Joshua’s second piece, Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen, starts out painfully beautiful, evolving into energetic motion. It is so full of passion, we think we will explode from the sheer emotion. His precision is remarkable and ends in a glorious statement. When he is done, we are all on our feet, exclaiming our love and appreciation.
There is more to the concert, but I take it in as a dreamy aftermath. I am completely spent from Joshua Bell and my teenage memories.
Days later, I see a comment on Facebook from my friend Katie, who now lives in New York. She asks how the concert was. I tell her how much I wish we could have listened to him together. And then I remember, it was live-streamed by the Orchestra!
I think I’ll send her the link.