Pulse of Miami: New World Symphony Takes on the Party Scene

Never date a musician, right? Or is it "date a musician, but don't expect to live a life of glamour"? Well, whatever it is, last night my musician boyfriend took me to Pulse at the New World Symphony. And it was indeed glamorous, as in Miami Beach clubbing, heels, a dress, and a cocktail glamorous. I didn't bring a water bottle of wine but I should have, and I didn't fall asleep which, if you've ever attended a typical orchestra concert, is usually within the realm of possi- borderline probability.

Orchestras have been an endangered species for a while now. Its audiences are wrinkled and wealthy and hard-of-hearing. Its musicians are dinosaurs of people who are generally underpaid, but will only hand down their seat to the long line of eager applicants if Death himself is in the audience. There have been dozens of articles speculating about the demise of the orchestra. For me, it's my own fault. I didn't grow up truly listening to classical music; it was always background ambiance. I don't know most of the composers, the history, the stories. I don't have the musical training to analyze before, during, or after hearing a piece, and at concerts I struggle to divine the church-like rules of classical music: When do I clap? Is it rude to cough? So yes, the orchestra is dying, but I'm sure the orchestra would say it's my claim to being 'cultured' that is passing on.

Then last night happened. Having attended many an 'orthodox' orchestra concert, even I was disoriented. We were ushered past a pop-up bar and into an intimate performance space by the throbbing beats of a DJ in a tuxedo. The musicians, in traditional black, bared a bit more skin than usual, and the young German conductor played double-duty as an energetic MC. The rules had been broken. Audience members cheered and chatted. Giant dancers, enhanced by 70s-esque special effects, were projected across sails suspended from the ceiling. I audibly and physically reacted to the music, gasping and dancing, and I even wolf-whistled at the end of a piece.

I'll take the Bach door into this club.

New World is a serious organization. It is a training orchestra, which may sound elementary, but its members are the olympians of the classical music scene: young, talented, and frighteningly hard working. Tickets to their next Friday evening concert start at $70 a piece, perhaps another reason why their audiences are more my grandmother's peers than my own. Nevertheless, New World is doing something that even my musician boyfriend didn't anticipate. Pulse made the orchestra accessible to a more modern, energetic, and culture-hungry crowd. The audience last night was in party mode, and they were obviously having a good time. There were even promoters handing out ads for an afterparty at a nearby club. Pulse could be reviving the orchestra. Pulse could be classical music's fountain of youth, its fresh spring of wealth.

DJ Floppy Bow Tie

But Pulse hasn't entirely grasped the beat yet. Their ticket prices are rightfully increasing, but the event still only occurs about twice a year. Imagine a scenario in which, charmed by the excitement of Pulse, members from this new audience are enticed into purchasing a ticket to a more traditional concert. If New World wants, it could set up a program through which a person earns a discount on regular tickets after attending say, three Pulse events. The organization could also use the opportunity to educate us laymen and women about classical music. They did have convenient program notes displayed on the sails, but the conductor conspicuously caught himself before saying the word 'concertmaster' and replaced it with the more familiar term 'first violin.' Creating comfort for the more formal performances is key to reeling concert-goers into the ticket counter.

Pulse is an excellent date idea, certainly one of the most interesting things I've done in Miami and also one the of most unique things I've done just about ever. It oozes potential as an example for orchestras around the world to begin solving their problems of disappearing audiences and emptying endowments. But these events need strike to balance between basic appeal for their target audiences and respect for the musicians and their art. It shouldn't merely be a gimmick to sell tickets, but a platform on which to build interest, understanding, and perhaps from there begin the new congregation of classical music devotees.

Mixed up in Miami: Pros and Cons

Sick of winter? Jealous of those of us in tropical climates? Miami seduces even the toughest Canadian with the temptation of a permanent escape from the Abominable Snowman. But if you are thinking of moving, don't waste time comparing a list of pros and a list of cons. What you need is a list of Pros and Cons because yes, Miami is that confusing.

1. Spanish is Everywhere

On the radio, across billboards, in the restaurant and the supermarket and the streets. As of the 2010 census, 63.77% of the population in Miami-Dade County speaks Spanish. Am I practicing? Not really. Sure, the woman taking our order doesn't speak English, but it doesn't seem like she'll be charmed a gringa struggling to sputter some Spanish at her.

2. Diversity
Miami has one of the highest percentages of foreign born population in the world. This doesn't mean that it's the most diverse, but it blasts many other places (like South Korea) out of the water. For example, there is access to basically any kind of food you could want. In the past few weeks I've enjoyed Korean, Japanese, Greek, German/Austrian, Mexican, Cuban, Italian, Brazilian, Indian, Thai, and probably more.

3. Weather
You (could) wear shorts every day, seeing as it's 80 degrees most of the time. I don't even own a jacket anymore. Sometimes that doesn't work out so well, but it's a luxury to be warm every morning when you get out of bed. I get sweaty on my walk to work even though it's 8:30 AM in January. The constant climate for body-baring does lead to some places basically becoming Barbie Land. I happened upon a Model Beach Volleyball competition, and probably see a Maserati per day, on average.

4. Tourism
The beaches are here and you can go all the time. Sparkling water, direct sunlight, and sand. The water is everywhere but you can't have it. There's no parking, or there's only expensive parking, and you have to drive past miles of privately owned seaside before you reach a public, tolled, and likely crowded beach. Tourist attractions cost money, and not chump change. It's about $20 a person to get into two of Miami's most lauded destinations, Fairchild Tropical Botanical Garden and Vizcaya Museum and Gardens. Hope they didn't want me to visit more than once, because I'm gonna avoid spending that lunch money and keep my eyes peeled for the rumored free admission days.

5. Landscape
There are adorable little lizards and other surprising and fascinating flora and fauna everywhere. Check out this short documentary about fluorescent local coral! However, many of these creatures are either invasive or endangered... and if not that, then they are going to be underwater in about 100 years.






























6. City Layout

"The time is always now!"

The city is sprawl, limited here and there by either ocean or alligator territory, and the traffic is a formidable and seemingly unpredictable beast, from work day rush hours to random fifteen minute back-ups for no apparent reason. On top of this, people drive like they're Sterling Archer, or like they can only see the edges of the road, not the lines or the other cars. This shouldn't be too big of a problem because Miami has both a metro line and a bus system, but despite that fact public transportation is essentially nonexistent. I admit I might be simply spoiled from my residence in Seoul, a public transport utopia, but the facts are unavoidably underwhelming. You can't take the metro to the Miami Beach, the city's most important tourism spot. If you take a bus, there's a good chance it's late, inordinately expensive, and the air conditioner has probably been dripping water all over the empty seats at the back of the bus.

To conclude, Miami isn't like Korea, which isn't surprising, but it isn't like the U.S. of A, either. In Korea I was a 'real' foreigner, and it garnered for me all kinds of sympathy, assistance, friends and excuses for my embarrassing moments. In Miami, I'm a 'fake' foreigner. Still searching for the hip spots to hang? Don't know the most efficient ways of getting around? Can't communicate effortlessly with someone? Wait a minute...aren't you from this country?! A redeeming quality: this unfamiliarity is where I can begin to explore, and (hopefully) find that keen feeling of accomplishment, the one that comes at the end of the day, when your ankles are dusty from walking, your feet are tired, and your mind is buzzing with the aftermath of adventure.