When adults attend a performance, it is a good indicator for an enjoyable night. After all, the adults were for there for entertainment rather than extra credit in a freshman art class. The recital hall door closed with a resolute click, and an initial silence spread throughout the room. The trio walked out and started tuning their instruments with confidence.
No one rose from their chair to introduce the trio. Their music spoke for them. Their tone and tempo felt akin to what would be playing in the background of a Nicholas Sparks movie as the two lead characters strolled through a field of flowers and possibilities. Then, what started as chipper, hopeful music began to transform into music you would hear in a montage for a dancer practicing for their big recital. After they completed their first song, they paused and scanned their sheet music.
The trio transitioned from music by Mozart into music by Robert Schumann. The violist’s expression looked like she was trying to lift a great weight and was under much distress, and her music was equally conflicted: one moment soft melodies and the next jagged rifts. While the group was a trio in the night’s musical performance, a quick read of the program revealed that the clarinetist and violist are married.
After their final song from Max Bruch, the musicians took a bow, the room clapped and the audience took a collective breath, almost as if the entire room had been holding their breath alongside the clarinetist. The audience enjoyed watching husband and wife dance around the room with their melodies.
“When a clarinetist marries a violist,” said David Warren, voice professor, “They have to find something to play together.”