Toot our own Glayvin!!

At the end of a concert, unless things have gone horribly, horribly wrong, there are usually three curtain calls. The first (technically a bow and not a curtain call), happens at the conclusion of the last note of the evening. Ideally, as the reverberations die away, there is an expectant silence because you, the audience are so entranced by the mood that we, the performers, have created, that it takes a while for you to come back to the real world. Inevitably though, there is someone that is either so bursting with enthusiasm, or has ants in the pants /“Jimmy legs,” or just wants a solo of his own (I say “his” not in the standard sense of saying “his” for “anyone’s”, but because it really always is a man)..and breaks the silence early by screaming “BRAVO!!”

The conductor, flinging the sweat from his brow, wearily but with an air of immense satisfaction, will turn to the audience to acknowledge his rightful due, and then motions for the entire orchestra to stand.

That is the first.

The second occurs after the conductor has walked off stage and then on stage again. This is usually where sections or individual players are given special recognition. The first horn, the first flute, trombone, concertmaster…all people who individually contributed solos in some form or another that were an integral part of the performance.

The third can happen in a variety of ways. Sometimes, the conductor comes out, and motions the whole orchestra to stand again. This is a very delicate point, because it is at this moment that what most conductors REALLY expect is the orchestra to do is stay seated and motion to him; in effect saying “no, really, it’s all due to your genius that you we sounded good...please, take a solo bow…you deserve it.” And sometimes we DO mean that very sentence, and sometimes we don’t. Not the least bit. But in any case, after the fake-polite “no, you’re great” “no, STOP, it’s YOU that are great” back-and-forth, the conductor usually does get sections of the orchestra to stand again.


This time around, it is often the wind or brass sections that elicit hoots and hollers from the audience. By the time the string section stands up (last), there are no more special hoots, bravos, yays, or anything. And therein lies the problem.

You see, we are usually the only section that has been playing THE WHOLE TIME. We have more notes. WE are the bulk of the orchestra. We may not have had that beautiful mournful death tune in the second movement, or the brave hero hunting theme in the last, but we have sat there during the last two and a half hours gamely sawing away while our non string colleagues counted rests and waited for their scant moments of glory. And when we don’t hear a rise in the cheering when we-- the guts, the heart, of the orchestra stands—well, it just plain hurts.

Some string players in other orchestras actually shout “BRAVO” as they stand up, just to give the audience a little hint. We in the viola section tried that for a week, then realized that really, it’s all about the noise you make, so now in the words of Professor Frink on the Simpsons, we stand, smile, and shout “GLAYVIN!!”