About a decade ago, my family and I used to venture off-Island to a half dozen concerts every year. We would alternate between the Boston Symphony and the Rhode Island Philharmonic. In the beginning, the particular composer or the particular piece would be the reason to buy tickets. The location of the seats was a consideration, but just to be in those concert halls was thrilling enough. As we learned more about the arrangement of the orchestra, we got more selective about our vantage point.
For me, the preferred spot was balcony, left, all the way up front. From there, I looked right down on the violins. The most important requirement became seeing which instruments the notes were coming from. Generally, the conductor spent most of the performance turned slightly to the left so that we could see some facial expressions.
Eventually, it didn’t matter what was being presented. If those seats in the balcony, left, up front were available, I would buy four or five tickets. Back in those days, those seats were considered the cheap seats. As the day of the performance approached I would ask my folks who wanted to go with me. The expensive part of the outing would be overnight accommodations for an evening performance.
Cheaper still were tickets for afternoon performances. It was also more likely that family members could spare the time to accompany me. One Sunday afternoon, only my granddaughter Erin was willing to go along to a concert in Boston. The traffic was unusually heavy and to my surprise and disappointment, the other drivers were being uncharacteristically polite. We were barely making headway. By the time the Prudential Center came into view, we had a mere 20 minutes to check in. They have a rule at the symphony that once the conductor comes on stage, no one is allowed through the door. I figured that we might as well keep going. If we missed the performance, we would still get to go to Whole Foods and the art supply store.
The actual start time of a concert is always later than what it says on the tickets. There are a lot of variables to gathering up all of the musicians, their instruments, their sheet music and then there’s the conductor. Most are pretty eccentric and punctuality doesn’t have any priority when it comes to perfection of all of the other factors.
We parked the car in the only space left at the top of the spiral parking garage, raced down the stairs and dodged cars crossing the street. We got to the big wooden doors of the majestic Symphony Hall just as the doorman stood up after reaching down to release the hook that held the door open. He gave us an encouraging wave and we presented our tickets to a disapproving usher who beseeched us to go quickly and quietly to our seats. We sat down just as the conductor straightened up from his bow to the audience. As he turned to face his orchestra, our heavy panting from our recent exertion must have caught his ear. I’m pretty sure that I saw a slight grin for the split second that he looked up in our direction. Perhaps he appreciated our effort to attend. After all, he and the orchestra had already put a great deal of effort into the music that they were about to perform.
Anyway, you don’t have to go to all of the effort that Erin and I went to in order to experience world class music. The Chappy Community Center has organized, once again, an exceptional summer music series. This coming Saturday, July 18 at 7:30 p.m., Ana Vidovic, the extraordinary classical guitarist will perform Bach, Scarlatti and others for you right here on Chappy. No traffic, no ferry and plenty of parking. And all of the seats are cheap! Try to be on time.
Then, this coming Wednesday, July 22, at 7 p.m., Tom Tilghman will share his memories of Chappy from more than three quarters of a century ago. He remembers when Chappaquiddick Road was dirt!
This article appears in July 17, 2026.