I have a rock n roll heart.

Last night I covered a gig at the San Mateo Center for Performing Arts.  A symphony.

I had never been to the symphony, but I had expectations.  I expected the music to be beautiful and stimulating, the atmosphere to be rich and inviting, and the people to be well dressed.  Or at least, dressed up.

I was sort of disappointed.

I was dressed to the nines. I may or may not have been wearing a fur coat.  I was definitely wearing heels--something I don't do very often.  I was ready for something special.

Too bad I was the only one.

People were in jeans.  I even saw a pair of cowboy boots.  The refreshment bar resembled a bake sale. There were no assigned seats, and when I asked someone where to sit, she said to go inside and someone would help me.  Mind you, I was late because I had to park a half mile away, (because it was raining), but so were a lot of other people.  When I went inside, there was nobody there to direct me.  Luckily I spotted a seat, and I b-lined for it like hooker scoring a free a-bomb.

I was awkward for sure.

I sat down and I didn't take off my coat.  I think subconsciously I thought I wouldn't be staying long. But the first number was great.  The music was lively at times, dancing around the room, and quiet at others, drawing you into it and into yourself.  I was engaged.

Ironically, it made me sad.

I haven't mentioned the San Mateo Center for the Performing Arts because there is nothing to mention.  The space was about as exciting as a convalescent home. And it just seemed wrong.  The music was deserving of more.  More than the lifeless walls, the bake sale, the jeans, the half-hearted ovation that came at the end.

What was going on here?

This morning I happened upon an article written by a dude from MIT talking about the state of music vs. the music industry.  The gist of it was that music is doing fine--people are, in fact, listening to more music than ever.  But the music industry is on the decline because, although people are listening, they are not buying.  This, thanks to sites like Pandora, Rdio, Youtube.

It got me thinking about the value we place on art, or the lack thereof.

I'm happy that people had to pay $32 for last night's symphonic performance. I suspect it was worth every penny (and probably more) to those who truly love classical music.  But everything else about that night smacked of worthlessness.  An unworthy venue, an unworthy audience, etc.  They didn't even have anyone handing out programs, for God's sake.

We just don't appreciate art like we should.  I've known this for a long time, but the sting never seems to lessen.  What makes me most sad is that there's nothing I can do to change it.  I can tell people about art I love, music I love. I can go to events and purchase or donate whenever possible. But if I am one of just a handful of people doing this, I am shit outta luck.

I fear the internet is softly killing art and music.  Because I wonder if you can even call something art or music if it's not experienced firsthand.  Watching it on Youtube or streaming it on Rdio is just not the same thing as hearing it or seeing it live.  Not even close.

If the music industry is on decline and organizations like the Peninsula Symphony Orchestra cannot afford to pay someone to pass out programs, (actually the entire organization is volunteer-based), where does that leave us? What I am saying is that if you cannot create a proper atmosphere for these experiences, something is lost, and ultimately, the music suffers because it's just not that enjoyable.  People, like me, who only kind of like classical (sometimes) are probably not going to come back.  What I'm saying is that it's not just the industry that suffers.  The music suffers.

I wish I didn't care like I do.  I know there are better things to think about, talk about.  It just so happens that championing beauty, art, music, comes natural to me.  And I have a really big rock n roll heart.  I want to see people love and appreciate beauty like I do--like they were intended to.