The snow flutter towards the ground, the doorstep of the ‘Ministry of Sound’ nightclub. Despite its Christmas card and angelic appearance, with it brought a bitter and frigid chill that penetrates the insides of the crowd that waits. The red faced group shiver as they wrap themselves in their thick winter coats. Full of excitement, the fans stand on their tiptoes, anticipating their entry to the music venue. A large man, presumably the bouncer, wearing a black formal suit and an ID strapped on his muscular arm, slowly marches alongside the swarm of inpatient men and women, taking a deep breath with every stride. With every eager fan he passes, he gazes at them, with a hint of scrutiny and suspicion. ‘Ticket’ - the only word the bouncer says, as he examines and verifies the authenticity of the fans’ pass to enter. One by one the long snaking queue shorten as the groupies slowly gain entry.
A panicking teenager, growing redder every second, caught the eye of the bouncer. The teenager, trembling. Starting to hyperventilate, he rushes to find his lost ticket. Even in the cold, sweat runs...
On November 16th, 2013, I attended a concert choir, fall choral concert. This event took place on the Wheaton College Campus, in the Edman Chapel at 7:30 pm. The chapel was well-lit, with long pews for the audience to be seated. The concert began with the audience looking up into a balcony, where the ensemble stood in neat rows. They watched the conductor, who stood on a stage in front of the audience, waiting for their cue.
Ten minutes after lining up, I went inside the nightclub. From the door, I could hear the song and the beat of the bass so loud that my heart could feel it. Inside the nightclub, I saw people were dancing everywhere, on dancing floor, on their own seats, everywhere. They would dance and take a big gulp of their beer. Even the bartenders were dancing too, following the rhythm of the loud funky music. The rainbow rays of light moved through the club to make the mood even more exciting and funky.
The nightclub, is an aged, small wood structure in Rhode Island. The club is reported to have a capacity of 182 people. On February 20th 2003, more than 400 fans packed into the small club to see the band. Although there are discrepancies between reports of how many people were in attendance, it is obvious that the number is well over twice the club's capacity. During the performance, as part of the act, pyrotechnics were deployed.
The venue was a small amphitheatre with wood paneled walls and a wooden stage with the piano situated in the middle. The chairs were covered in blue fabric. I would estimate that the venue was about one-third full, and the crowd consisted primarily of college students (although I did see two senior-aged individuals in attendance, as well). It appeared that attending the event was a requirement for a specific class, although I did not ask anyone about this directly. There was a young man sitting outside handing out some sort of attendance slips. Everyone was dressed quite casually, with jeans and tee shirts being the norm among the male population, especially. Before the performance began, the venue was very brightly lit and it was quite noisy. When the performer stepped out onstage, I was very surprised that several of the audience members were whistling and hooting, since I had read that that was improper decorum. Once Mr. Anvar took his seat and the lights went down, the crowd went silent. Between performances the crowd generally applauded, but there were always a handful of people yelling out, as well.
I chose to do my concert critique on Eric Clapton-MTV unplugged full concert-HQ January 16, 1992 at Bray Film Studios in Windsor, England. Eric Clapton is my favorite rock n roll singer which has a mixture of genres. The concert was inside and on stage. The audience was seated up close to the stage which made the atmosphere comfortable; Eric and the band showed much warmth and connected with the crowd it wasn’t like the band was untouchable.
On Monday March 25, some members of the baseball team, my girlfriend, and I traveled to Murray State University to watch a concert performed by Nelly and the St. Lunatics. It was a terrible night to go anywhere because it was raining and storming the whole way, but there was nothing that was going to stop us from going to the concert. We where all so hyped up about it and couldn’t wait to head out. My brother, who attends Murray State, had gotten us excellent seats about seventy-five feet away from the stage.
Sure, it was crowded: it was the only gig in town. I look at the yellow Franciscan statue, gaily painted, redolent of Mexico. As I glance back, the piano player has changed his tune and is swaying his head to something like Brubeck-does-Muzak. Exiting, I see the line is still wrapped around the corner. The rain has stopped, and four more people are trudging up the hill to get in line. Linus had finished his food before me, it seems, and is swapping three cigarettes for a quarter. He starts up again:
A couple of months ago, I went to a concert up in Denver. The band that played was called dada. They are a three-man pop rock band that have been playing since their first album was released in 1992. The band has a small following, but the amphitheater still was still quite full by the time the band started playing. Before this concert, I had been to a couple others in the past with bands of a similar type playing in a similar setting to that of the amphitheater I found myself in a couple of months ago. After going to the dada concert, I noticed there was an interesting pattern of where different people sat or stood at these concerts. This pattern divided people up by their social rank, age, and class. There were three different areas to this pattern: the people standing in the front at the stage, the people standing in the middle of the theater, and the people sitting in the back.
On Tuesday, October 17, 2017, I attended a musical concert. This was the first time I had ever been to a concert and did not play. The concert was not what I expected. I assumed I was going to a symphony that featured a soloist clarinet; however, upon arrival I quickly realized that my previous assumptions were false. My experience was sort of a rollercoaster. One minute I was down and almost asleep; next I was laughing; then I was up and intrigued.
I can still recall that atmosphere whenever I think about it; that wonderful evening with my favorites and all about that evening. The Curtis Culwell center was an amazing experience and surely will be in the coming years. That feel of the auspicious and pleasant day with the serene ambience, when one of my favorite singer-composer brothers came to Dallas for a live concert can still be remembered by me. Salim- Sulaiman, the singer-composer brothers from India, famous for their music and love songs and their spiritual touches mesmerized the whole arena. The best part about their concerts in the tour of North America was their initiative. It was an initiative towards the famous Aga Khan Museum of Toronto, Canada and all the profits from the
Once I let my thoughts return to the music, I knew what lie ahead of me. I tapped the nearest "big guy" on the shoulder and pointed towards the ceiling; the universal signal on the concert floor. He nodded, grabbed my foot, and pushed me on top of the crowd. Once I was up there was no turning back. Soon strong hands were surfing me towards the stage. I had the best view in the house and reveled in the moment. I was fueled by an adrenaline rush that was only heightened by the fusion of the music and the energy of the crowd.
Attending for the first time at a jazz concert was a great experience; it was performed at the Wolfson Campus. The instruments that took part of it were the drums, piano, saxophone and bass. The piano was the one that mostly called my attention, the pianist was Lynne Arriale, even though at first she had troubles adjusting the amplifier, the melody and rhythm of it was perfect, it made me want to follow the rhythm during the whole concert. The swing and syncopation, improvisation, bent notes and modes helped to keep a great rhythm during the whole performance.
I walked into Starz hesitantly, looking for a corner seat. Air coming through the open door chilled the shop's interior, which was teeming with customers just fifteen minutes after the shop had opened. The stares from those already seated in the shop's green plastic chairs along the right wall, as well as from those getting haircuts frightened me a bit. It looked as if I didn’t belong. Th...
Without warning, the lights went dark. This was the moment I had been waiting for. My adrenaline went through the roof. The time had finally come that I would get to see and hear my first live concert.
Then audience members who were perfect strangers who were screaming loudest would turn to each other with knowing glances and smile because they were sharing the same excitement and connecting with one another over their love of this man’s music. There was no pushing or shoving to get closer to the stage – it wasn’t that kind of crowd. Instead, there was mutual respect for one another’s space within the confines of the too-small venue. Nobody wanted to be the person who ruined it for someone else. It was this respect that made the audience members’ connections with one another that much stronger – we were all here to listen to this wonderful man’s music and see his performance – and, of course, we were here to enjoy it.