San Francisco Symphony

Today I was lucky enough to hear a soundcheck of the San Francisco Symphony in Disney Hall. It was fun for me to be there, as I subbed with the group while earning my journalism degree at Stanford a few years back. I loved seeing my old friends, like the cellist Barbara Bogatin — in this picture, exploring the Venice, Calif. canals this past Sunday. I have known Barbara for over 30 years, since we met on one of my first professional gigs in New York.

In the half-hour rehearsal, I watched the orchestra’s virtuoso conductor, Michael Tilson Thomas, talk about phrasing and passion, shaping the musicians’ interpretation in what must be one of the most synergetic relationships within US orchestras. It’s especially impressive, as MTT has long since passed the calendar point many orchestras declare mutiny on their current leader — although perhaps there are dissenters in the ranks somewhere. A surprise visitor from the LA Opera dropped in, too, one who was obviously much-loved by the orchestra personnel.

They rehearsed Tchaikovsky Fifth, and the sound of the orchestra was ethereal, warm, and incredibly present in Disney — the hall of halls. Their new principal clarinetist, Carey Bell (and later in perfect unison with bassoonist Steve Paulson), played the opening solo so softly, and controlled, that it seemed to grow out of the walls around us. The strings were sensitive and spectacular, and as always, principal oboist Bill Bennett was bright and dark at the same time, his beautiful tone soaring over the counterpoint.

Next came Prokofiev’s Fifth Piano Concerto (which I’d never heard) with pianist Garrick Ohlsson, and then a brass fanfare by MTT. Tuesday night, the band will play a new program at Disney — Brahms’ #1, Copland’s film music for “Our Town,” and Berg’s Three Pieces for Orchestra. If you can still get tickets, go! It’s a night you won’t soon forget. Buy tickets at www.laphil.com

But Barbara had the night off in the land of cello rotation. We took off for the amazing Drago Centro restaurant, where we dined blissfully. The restaurant week menu included creamy buffalo mozzarella, lamb Osso Buco, and a complex vanilla panna cotta. We closed the place down, sharing pictures and gabbing about old friends and the new future of the arts. Sam, our waiter, didn’t rush us. And I was again moved by the family-like friendships that a life in music seems always to forge.