I once overheard a pony say that he didn't like classical music and couldn't understand why ponies would listen to classical music.
To this day I must have heard somepony say that one phrase over a thousand times. Every time I hear it it tugs on my heartstrings and I would just love to correct there statement.
My belief is that everypony likes classical music, but they usually haven't found that out yet. Think about that for a few minutes, you don't have to agree, but just think about the statement. Now think about whenever you hear classical music anywhere. The result should be that you are constantly hearing but when you only listen without picturing in your head what the music means, you get very board.
Ponies who wont listen to this idea would normally infuriate me, however, I have come to terms with ponies opinions and will let them have their own opinions. I only think that this can be cured simply by following that simple method. Oh well... their loss.
Consider what I have told you as I now tell you about a concert I went to in Canterlot. It is also the place where I discovered I had a love for more than just music.
~-~
As I watched the concert I started to close my eyes. Not to sleep, but to picture in my head what the piece is trying to convey the meaning of.
I imagine a river flowing easily and calmly through a small wooded area in the bottom of a basin. As the music resolves into a single note, I can hear the percussion play at a faster tempo and soon followed by a flute as the river picks up speed. Eventually the river leads to a waterfall... no wait... a series of waterfalls. After what may seem like an eternity the music finally reaches towards the ending. I can tell because the tempo is finally slowing again into a molto ritardando. This causes my vision to end as the piece ends on a final note that crescendos until the conductor decides that the chord has lasted for long enough.
The audience applauds at the orchestra as the conductor takes a quick bow before waiting for the audience to calm down. I was of course applauding, only I was holding my excitement for the next and final piece in the show.
Looking back down I see the program within my hooves and look to see what I was listening to. Rainbow falls overture, who'd of thunk it. Also, I look at what the next piece is called. River of Magic, that should be interesting.
The crowd goes silent as the conductor turns around to face the orchestra. This indicates that the next selection is to be played.
I didn't find this piece to be particularly special at first, with it's slow and introspective opening, but the I see and hear something that catches me off guard. The conductor points towards the rear of the orchestra where I hear a short and well played solo. I can't tell what instrument is playing it at first, but I hear the note play in my mind and I see... a cello.
I glance to where it came from to see who played it and see the one cellist who isn't sitting at rest. She has a beautiful gray coat with a matching black mane with gray lining. All other thoughts leave me as I can now only imagine her on the stage. The music being played goes to the back of my head as I now focus on her and before I no it, the song ends almost as soon as it begins.
I see the conductor turn and bow as the crowd as they all finally let out all of their excitement, but when the mare playing the cello is signaled to stand and bow to, I finally let my excitement flow with the crowd for the final bows from the rest of the orchestra.
All I can think is of that mare and of the bouquet of flowers that I almost forgot about sitting in my lap with the program. I normally give it to the (mare) players that I find played well. I look through the program to find out who the cellist who won my heart is.
Her name is apparently Octavia Anne.
I think she won the roses almost... unopposed.
~-~
Later that night as the high class and fans of the orchestra were talking amoungst themselves, I was busy waiting at the back entrance for a certain mare to emerge from said doorway. It took her a while but she eventually came out the back exit with a large case (I can only assume it to be her cello) and made her way down the backstreet towards the main road it connected to.
As she started walking I walked up next to her and tried to get her attention. I also noticed how her smile was of contentment as if she wasn't satisfied with something about the performance.
"Miss Anne," I called earning a confused look from the mare as she looked back at me.
"I just wanted to say that you gave a great performance..." I paused before continuing.
"Also, I would like to give you these." She didn't give much of response as she saw the pink roses that I had handed her. When I got flowers for this they were usually the pink poirots (I have no idea where that name came from, don't ask).
She looked at the roses I handed her with a very questioning expression for a second before setting her case down and accepting the roses. She looked as though she didn't know what to say. Then I saw her start to smile like she really did enjoy the performance that she was just in.
"Thank you, there aren't many who really appreciate classical these days, but it's very nice to see a least one pony still cares." She paused for a minute, waiting for my response.
"It's my pleasure, it brightens my day to see a musician come to re-appreciate their own work," I added.
Her nest move surprised me. Looking down from the roses and back to me she bent her head forward and gave me a peck on the cheek.
For a moment we just stood there awkwardly before she said her final thank you and left me with my own thoughts.
I guess that's what truly matters... as long as there is one who still believes, then that is one more to motivate for change.
Author's Note
It pains me to see people think poorly of one of the greatest breeds of music. I hope that this story has at least made that one person turn their head.
Please go easy on me it is my first upload and I only want to satisfy you all.
(music of reference: Cumberland Falls Overture by Brant Karrick and River of Life by Steve Reineke)
