Nothing like this and more wonderful I have seen in my life . Just in the middle of one of the most central and dirty streets of Tel-Aviv a real symphony orchestra gave it's concert in the open air .
Here were all: the violinist, cellist, bass, flute, clarinet, trumpet, trombone, and even a harp. There wasn't only a piano. Lighting for the stage served for a makeshift orchestra lights of the big supermarket, which was located in front of the musicians. Sitting on plastic and cloth chairs, gray musicians performed the best works of classical music.
When they were playing music, it seemed that the musicians and their instruments were a single whole, as an extension of their hands, and perhaps the soul. In their music, they were able to tell the city about their lives, about their experiences and hopes.
The city was not accustomed to such luxury and did not know what to do with them. It needed janitors, construction workers, waiters. It needs cafes, restaurants, bars, new roads ... And musicians from Russia fell on its head like a snowball in the middle of a hot summer. It was not ready to accept them, he was not ready to accept them, he could not understand them.
In the afternoon the happy city smelled diesel fuel, grilled meats, pizza and fast decaying under the hot southern sun sewage. This whole cocktail of smells was generously flavored with dust. At night, the moist air of the city was also infused with urine.
I was listening to their play and thought that this dusty, unkempt city by the sea, unable to dispose of this suddenly obtained gift must be consumed with shame, listening to the music of homeless musicians, and that the local philharmonic society must recognize the inconsistency and to give them their place.
But the city did not care for them. It did not care about anyone, nor about living in miserable huts, colonial guest workers and immigrants, nor about huddled up in a pack of stray dogs, nor about unemployed street musicians, united in the orchestra under the open sky.
Their music nobody needed here.
- Do you know how many musicians have come? - Asked them a smug official in the ministry of immigration. - We need workers - efficiently, thriftily heralded sated stately lady. - And if you are really such (so) good musicians, look for a job, make your way! Legs feed the wolf. Try to get a job at school, in clubs ... In restaurants, at last ... With work now it's bad. So many people have come ... There is not work for everybody, you are to be happy that there is any work ...
Many people protested against the indifference. They arranged small demonstration, tried to write something somewhere, and even made hunger strikes.
Musicians did not do anything like this, but they told by their music everything to this city.
And I after the concert that have place twenty years ago, do not go either to the Philharmonic to Symphonieta. I do not want to spoil the experience. It's like after a real Armenian brandy to drink some "pale."