Music Makers

Every Wednesday in summer, the Boston Landmark Orchestra plays for free at the outdoor Hatch Shell just off the Charles River.  They perform with only minmal amplification, the acoustics of the giant stone semi-circle doing most of the work, as the sun sets over Cambridge on the opposite side of the water.  Families camp out on blankets in front of the stage, but gradually the crowd swells with joggers, walkers, and wanderers who happen to be nearby and are drawn in by the music.  Even scattered kayaks and sailboats loiter along the shore to catch the show.

I finally went a few weeks ago, propelled by the immediacy of leaving.  This is the video I took: a little uneven, but you can get the atmosphere.


I have a thing for outdoor concerts, especially free ones.  In Delhi, I learned more about traditional music styles from seeing them live than I did from any research in bookstores or libraries.  At Nizzamudin, a Sufi Muslim district of Delhi, I stopped by a qawwali festival one evening with a group of friends.  I had read about qawwali from William Dalyrimple's book City of Djinns, but not even his great words prepared me for the power of their voices.



The songs were all in Hindi, but luckily one of my Indian co-workers had come along.  She didn't translate every song directly, but at one point she began to giggle.  When we asked what was so funny, she explained the song was a little scandalous.  Something to do with a "dirty dupatta."  Oh my!

I was also recommended a free concert in Nehru Park, hosted by Spic Macay, or "Society for Promotion of Indian Classical Music And Culture Amongst Youth."  We sat on the grass and batted away mosquitos, listening to a duet between a famous sitar player and tabla player.  In the cool evening, after a long day trudging through 110 degree heat, the effect was mesmerizing.


That's one thing I think I'm going to miss when I live in England.  Maybe if I'm lucky, the grey skies and rain will abate long enough to grab a lawn blanket and find a local show.  On the other hand, the local pub doesn't seem like such a bad Plan B.