A Sunday Afternoon in Galveston

I hurriedly dress for the late afternoon Galveston Symphony Orchestra Concert at The Grand—thinking I know what’s in store. Michael comes in and tells me he read it’s a POPS concert. I reimagine our afternoon of symphonic classical music to something else entirely.

Michael wants to arrive early so he can find a parking space close to the old 1894 Opera House. But before the frustration of looking for a place on the street sets in, he chooses the path of least resistance and turns into a parking lot across from Rudy & Paco’s, which is a few doors down from The Grand.

As he turns into the empty lot, he explains, “I decided to just pay the ten-dollar fee.”

I remind him that on weekends it’s twenty dollars—which seems high for two hours, but he reminds me, “It’s only money.”

The Grand

The first thing I notice when walking into the venerable old building is the floor—the tile floor. How did they do this? Surely it couldn’t be laid tiny piece by tiny piece. Michael doesn’t give me time to ponder the puzzle but takes me by the hand and urges me forward. 

We are pointed toward the stairs to reach our seats. After two flights of steps, another usher points upward. Again. And then, again. Finally, an usher says, “You are almost there,” urging us onward and upward once again. Well, I guess when you don’t know what you are doing or where you are going, this is what happens when you order tickets.

After 84 steps (but who’s counting?), we arrive.

At the Grand Tier level, we are directed down fourteen steps to the front row, hearing the words, “These are really great seats.” 

And they are—sans legroom. Michael folds himself into his seat. I cringe.

In 1894 people must have been really short!

The Galveston Symphony Orchestra

A Pops Concert from Another Era

We are so early that less than a third of the orchestra is in place. Michael makes plans on where to sit if any seats remain empty at intermission. We both peruse the program. 

We notice the composers listed. Sibelius 1865-1957, Mozart 1756-1791, and Straus II 1825-1899. After intermission, the composers are Hvoslef 1939-. Copeland 1900-1990. Strauss I 1824-1849 and II 1866-1939. Sousa 1854-1932.

Michael whispers, “I thought this was supposed to be a pops concert.”

“Look at the program,” I whisper back, “it says New Year Pops Concert. Maybe there is more than one interpretation of pops.”

Legs cramped; we wait. Wondering.

The Conductor Entertains and Informs and Conducts!

The conductor takes the stage, full of energy and exuding enthusiasm. When he opens his mouth to speak, a European accent pours forth. He apologizes for his voice sounding funny and adds, “But if it is funny—that is good. Right?” The audience laughs—a trickle of gentle laughter. Michael and I both smile.

The conductor explains a little about each piece—he is instantly likable. The music begins. After Sibelius and before Mozart—who died way too young—he explains why Mozart composed Three German Dances and tells us that Mozart inserted “little Jokes” throughout this piece of music. 

He uses his voice to illustrate what he means. “Listen for them,” he instructs. We are not only being entertained; we are getting a musical education. The conductor steps up to his platform, and the orchestra begins. When Mozart’s joke is inserted into the piece, the conductor turns to the audience, lifts his hand, palm upward, silently saying, “See? This is it—funny!”

Trond Saeverud

I love this man. Who is he? What’s his name? I search the program furiously. There is no information on its pages. I close the program and see in small letters on the front, Trond Saeverud, Conductor.

The conductor, wearing classic dress tails, with thick snow-white hair, seems not only to love his music but to live it. I think it pours out of him. Add intelligence, learned knowledge, humor, and charm and you realize that even if the orchestra wasn’t excellent, Trond Saeverud alone is reason enough to be here.

During intermission, we change seats—more legroom for sure, but the view is not as good. Now that I have time I furiously Google Trond Saeverud to discover more about his man and how and why he is in Galveston.

During the second half of the concert, we learn that there were two composers named Strauss. Father and son. The son wrote waltzes; he is the only one I am familiar with. Saeverud reads us a piece from his notepad explaining that the waltz had a bumpy beginning.

Before the Waltz, people danced around each other with little or no contact at all. As the dance started gaining popularity, it was criticised on moral grounds due to its close-hold stance and fast turning movements. Religious leaders regarded it as vulgar and sinful. The dance was criticised to the point where people were threatened with death from waltzing.

Concert Vienna – VIENNESE WALTZ: A SCANDALOUS DANCE THAT BECAME A VIENNESE ICON

The clock approaches 6 pm when the orchestra plays a spirited rendition of Sousa’s, The Stars and Stripes Forever. Saeverud’s coattails fly and his arms are constantly in motion. When the last note dies, Michael is the first to stand and applaud loudly. Honestly, the audience goes wild.

As we exit the Grand and cross the street to our car, Michael says, “You did good, Charlotte.” 

Very high praise indeed.

Trond Saeverud

Googling, I learned things. Trond winters in Galveston and summers in Maine (my dream—summering in Maine). He has been with the Galveston Symphony since 2013. Tt was considered quite a coup when the Galveston Symphony hired him. 

Orginally from Norway, he was in much as a violinist, conductor and teacher. As a concert violinist, he has been a soloist with major orchestras in Europe and in the United States, including the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in London, and the Orchestra of St. Luke’s at the Lincoln Center, New York. Trond has produced CDs as a soloist with orchestras in Norway and Denmark and regularly premieres new works that are written for him. He is the founder and artistic director of the Passamaquoddy Bay Symphony Orchestra, concert master for the Bangor Symphony Orchestra, leader of the NorEaster String Quartet and conductor for the University of Maine.

He also founded the Harald Saeverud String Quartet Program, named after his grandfather, a famed Norwegian composer.

And of course, there is more.