My husband and I were talking about this last night, and I think we both expected something different. I thought the DSO would be arranging Led Zepp pieces for the orchestra. That seemed like an interesting idea. What we got was a cover band at the symphony -- again, not bad, but not what we thought it was going to be.
Tickets were sold out. They'd set up a band on stage, with a guitarist and drummer and a bassist, and a hot violinist in leather pants. Vocalist Randy Jackson opened with "Immigrant Song," which you gotta have the vocal chops for. He strained on the falsettos. You also couldn't hear the orchestra very well. Or maybe that was the point?
Another weird side effect was that I wasn't sure how to act. The symphony is traditionally a prim and proper occasion. But we were listening to rock music. Originally sung by a SEX GOD. (This is how I now refer to Robert Plant, or at least old-school Robert Plant.) A few people were hanging over their box seats, waving their arms in the air. At least one guy stood up in pumped devil-horns in the air. People occasionally whooped, but it was definitely not as energetic as you'd see at a rock show. Which, again, is fine -- it just felt like a strange limbo.
Even Randy Jackson, who, as Robert Plant, was supposed to be the rockstar of the night, acted like we were at the symphony. He basically just held the microphone and walked around the stage. No gestures, no charisma. Not a lot of energy.
The best parts were when we could hear the symphony, and when Randy quieted things for a notch and brought out his acoustic guitar to play "Going to California."
We left after intermission. (I'm kind of ashamed to admit -- I want to enjoy the arts more, I do!) Interestingly, the whole thing made me want to go see the symphony on a regular night, without all the rock music messing things up.
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