The enthusiasm of Japanese audiences for Western classical music is well-known and we saw plenty of evidence of it in Yokohama and Tokyo. Eerily attentive audiences. The plastic bags handed out at the hall entrances filled -- inches thick -- with promotional fliers for upcoming concerts and recitals. The curtain calls lasting eight, ten, 12 minutes complete with demands -- via the torrents of applause -- standing ovations are not in the repertoire and the stomping of feet is akin to rudeness -- for the conductor and soloists to return to the stage even after the orchestra players have been able to leave at last. The astonishingly high ticket prices. The clusters of connoisseurs standing in the lobbies at intermission comparing notes.
But who are some of these fans and how are they able to attend so many concerts on moderate salaries? An answer came with my encounters on two successive evenings with a gentleman I dubbed Ticket Man. At the intermission of the second Suntory Hall concert (Haydn 101 and Bruckner 7) I left the Hall and crossed Karajan Platz (!) to the facing office building/shopping mall to use a washroom without having to wait in the tremendous line back in the lobby. As I was walking briskly, concert program in hand, a tall, conservatively-dressed gentleman who appeared to be in his early fifties, all but accosted me and shouted something at me in Japanese. I'm sorry, I called back, I really don't speak Japanese. "Oh. I am sorry. I want your ticket! You are leaving the concert!" I explained that I was only excusing myself for the intermission. "Oh," he continued despondently. "I am sorry."
The next night, I noticed him again at intermission in the plaza, just after the Mozart Jupiter and before Ein Heldenleben. "Hello!" he shouted quickly. "I want your ticket!" This time I happened to have a second one and so I handed it to him and told him that I would see him inside. When I took my seat, I found him sitting ramrod straight and staring directly ahead, no program, no brochures. "Are you a music lover?" "Yes," he responded. "Um, no. Music . . . crazy!" He seemed neither ashamed nor proud of his condition; he was simply trying to be clear. In the course of a few minutes of chatting, continued during the lengthy ovation that followed the Strauss, I learned that Ticket Man was a "public servant" and had no business card, leading me to believe that he was a clerk for some governmental entity and lived for concert music. "Do you have a favorite conductor?" I asked, half-expecting his answer. "Number one, um, Karajan!" I nodded, "And?" "Number two -- Kleiber! Carlos Kleiber!" This was no surprise either. "And among living conductors?" "Mmm. Difficult. For opera, Italian repertory, Muti. Riccardo Muti! Verdi's Otello. Wagner -- Barenboim! Ring! Haitink! Others."
Comparisons followed. "Last time Sir Solti came here with Chicago Symphony Orchestra, I saw them. Five times! Vienna Philharmonic, last time, five times! Haitink with Dresden Staatskappelle. Same program as this night, though this time maybe he is slower in his Bruckner tempos. No?" He asked my occupation. "You are a music critic?!" He paused and looked ahead. "You must see many concerts. Many tickets!"
I asked if he had made it in for the Mahler 6 the night before. "No," he shook his head. "No ticket!" I suggested to him, Mr. Takayashi turned out to be his name, that he might try some different phrases for his future request and wrote some out on a piece of paper, including "Excuse me, are you using your ticket for the second half?" And, "Do you still need your ticket?" "Oh," he replied, intrigued. "'I want your ticket!' is not proper?" "Well, it certainly describes your situation and desire, but it might strike some people as a bit forward, less polite." "Oh. Thank you! Thank you so much! Perhaps I get more tickets now! Thank you for the concert! Thank you for the ticket!" He extended his arm to shake hands Western-style. "Auf Wiedersehen!" he repeated several times. And with that, Ticket Man went off into the night, dreaming already, I am sure, of his next ticket.
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