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.