I stood outside the Matsqui Centennial Auditorium under a darkened sky on Friday after the last concert of the Valley Concert Society’s season. James Campbell, Bryan and Silvie Cheng, and I were engaged in a farewell conversation before they left for their hotel.
I think it was James who said, “I noticed that the audience seemed particularly engaged during the Brahms.” The Brahms was the clarinet trio that closed the concert. His observation stayed with me, and I have been turning it over in my mind since then.
There could be a number of reasons for that. The trio is a masterpiece, reason enough to hold our attention. The musicians are superb artists, and playing like that is spellbinding. But I wish to point out James’ introduction to the work as another important factor.
He began by addressing us personally, “What would make you come out of retirement?” Then he related how this work resulted when Johannes Brahms was inspired to resume composing after having formally retired. Finally, he offered a reflection on the trio’s depth of meaning and its emotional heft—not the sunny autumn of October but the chill autumn of November and accepting the approach of winter.
For me, those words added a fresh insight into the work, something that reached in and touched me. It appears they had a similar impact on all of us in that audience.
I contrast this with my thoughts after another conversation with someone who shared their opinion about the Valley Concert Society. “Your music is too stuffy. You need something catchier.”
Allow me a defence of our stuffy music. Listening to that Brahms left me deeply moved, quietly grateful, and musing on the hope that I will be able to accept the inevitable approach of winter with the same grace.
This is not to denigrate other music as lesser. There are times I just want to bounce to a catchy rhythm. Some days we just need to laugh along with a fun song. Other times a nostalgic oldie fits the mood of the moment. They are all great.
But what the Clarinet Trio in A minor gave us is irreplaceable. It demands something of us—our undivided attention. It rewards learning—the historical and emotional context provided by James Campbell enriched our listening immensely. It lifts us by inspiring us to live with new insight.
Experiences like this are not the stuff of every day. Lighthearted tunes are a valuable lubricant for daily life. But if we were to lose Brahms and the like entirely, we would be much the poorer. And so we work to ensure that Mozart and Bach, Chopin and Schubert find a place in our calendar. We need it. Our society needs it.
John Wiebe - President
The Valley Concert Society