The Boston Symphony Orchestra launched its 146th season Thursday night at Symphony Hall with a program that featured celebrated cellist Yo-Yo Ma. It also came with a dual surprise: not only was an 11th-hour strike by the orchestra averted, but the podium was assumed by Andris Nelsons, who, after being greeted with a standing ovation before the first note was played, joined his hands in a prayerful pose: a supplication of gratitude for such a jubilant welcome after the recent controversy regarding his tenure. The night actually began with opening remarks from Boston Mayor Michelle Wu followed by salutations from BSO President and CEO Chad Smith.
Following this, Nelsons, who begins his 13th and final season with the BSO, addressed the audience referencing the red flowers worn by many of the musicians and audience members in support of both his and the orchestra’s return. In his thick, Latvian accent, Nelsons thanked the audience stating how the flowers were “a sign of love, respect, and brotherhood.” * This trifold organic theme was woven through the entire performance, which was nothing short of stellar.
The evening commenced with the 12-minute Tango by fellow Latvian composer Arturs Maskats, who was in attendance that evening and joined Nelsons on stage after the opening selection. Tango begins with a harmonic trill (peppered with a slight shrill) that quickly transitions to a solo, four-four quarter-note drum refrain that periodically punctuated the piece.
The BSO’s cogently coordinated execution of Maskats’s Tango enabled it to dance, creating a breeze that was absent on this tepid, humid evening. The subtle sway of the violins and violas, bolstered by the substratum laid by the cellos and basses, ascended in intensity. Julien Labro colored the score on the bandoneon: a challenging but very expressively rewarding accordion-style instrument popular in Argentinian and Uruguayan tangos. The entire orchestra swelled this instrumental dance to a robust finale, bringing a few of the spectators to their feet and Maskats to the stage for a curtain call.
After a few adjustments, the audience awaited the evening’s feature: the Harvard educated, musically renowned, BSO veteran, French born Chinese cellist Yo-Yo Ma, who, in tandem with the BSO, performed Edward Elgar’s four-movement Cello Concerto in E Minor, Opus 85 — itself worth the price of admission.
Ma’s talent transcends superlatives. He plays his instrument with his face as well as his hands, communicating with Nelsons and the BSO — particularly his fellow cellists — through smiles and piercing stares. His emotive visage gave shape to what his fingers unearthed from the cello’s bowels. His large hands moved nimbly across the fingerboard with the dexterity of a much younger player. He seemed to inhale the music from the ether before releasing it through his fingertips, his eyes closed but head turned upward as if he was conversing with Elgar’s spirit. With each pause, he seemed to snap out of a trance only to return to that aural realm moments later. During the Adagio-Moderato, he smiled at Nelsons as if to say, “Hello again,” to an old friend, giving form to the latter’s understanding of the red, red rose.
Ma made me wish I was a painter. The golden hues that saturated the stage accented his entire persona. The lighting complemented the chestnut color of his cello as the stage lights glinted off his spectacles, his powder gray, receding hair giving him the air of an elder stateman or a tenured Oxford don. Ma is as much a joy to watch as he is to hear. I kept wishing that he was my long-lost uncle.
Throughout the concerto, his hands went from sustaining moments of elegant tremolo to strumming, plucking, and even punching his strings. The first movement ended as a sort of snapshot: the entire orchestra froze in place with Ma elevating a motionless arm and leg midair. It made sense that the evening opened with a tango as both the BSO and Ma moved like dancers, not just musicians. They traded lines and cavorted in tandem.
The Lento-Allegro moto began with a much more pensive ambiance. This is Elgar at his finest: enabling soloist and orchestra to trade lines that synchronized like Gordeeva and Grinkov, Abbot and Costello, or Carl Yazstremski and the rest of the ‘69, ‘75, and ‘78 Red Sox. But alas, the aura was broken…
Classical Concert Etiquette Rule #1: when you attend the symphony, shut off your “bleeping” phone. I am speaking for all of us: no one wants to hear your iPhone play “Reflection,” “Seedling,” or whatever Taylor Swift monstrosity you downloaded. It occurred twice and killed the moment.
Back to Ma and Elgar…
During the Adagio, Ma nodded to his fellow cellists reminding them of their united task in laying a stalwart foundation to the passage. Their precise harmonization and parallel intonation could be measured at the subatomic level. His look spoke without words: we are shaping this moment together. Yet anyone who has followed Ma knows that this is emblematic of his humility. In fact, when he returned for an encore prior to intermission, he literally took a backseat allowing principal cellist Blaise Déjardin to take the lead. Such a simple gesture exuded an air of genuine collegiality in a field flooded with divas. Which leads us to…
Classical Concert Etiquette Rule #2: the root of the word classical is class. Yo-Yo personified this character trait from his stage left entrance till his final bow. Patrons of classical music should embody the same panache, which means (among other things) do not talk (or keep your ringer on) during a performance.
During intermission, I made a new friend: a humorous, Polish gentleman named André. My wife and I sat in the foyer with him and shared a libation and a few laughs. We discussed what I will call…
Classical Concert Etiquette Rule #3: “to clap or not to clap” between movements, that is the question. There are many scholars of concert music who claim it is perfectly fine. Times change, they say. If people want to express their emotions in the middle of a piece, so be it. “Enough of the unnatural, stuffy formalities,” they quip.
Here’s the problem. The pauses serve two purposes. As my new friend said, allowing yourself time to breathe and linger in the silence for a moment is part of the purpose of the pause. It is an ingredient of the score. My contention is that it is also for the musicians. Nelsons typically leads his orchestra into such moments of silence between movements slowly and intentionally. You hold your breath up to and during the pause. There is a reverence to it — with players in a mode and mindset that enables them to segue into the next movement. The audience becomes part of the experience. The applause breaks that aura, and the performers need to stretch, cough, and regain that sacred presence before continuing. Hence, the tradition of not clapping between movements. I know this is difficult for some to hear, but it’s not about you and what you want to do. Sorry.
The second half comprised Brahms’s Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Opus 98. The Allegro non troppo was stout and cinematic. Of equal note was the third movement: the Allegro giocoso. That is an Italian musical term for lively and fast tempo that is also a bit comedic. Brahms achieves the latter in dramatic terms displaying elongated measures. Stately, well-tempered bowing, combined with a tender touch, served as an apt transition to the Allegro energico e passionate. A celebratory, full-throttle fanfare, following a bit of restraint before breaking loose again, shook the foundations of the 126-year-old Massachusetts Avenue music hall. As the BSO thundered into its final exposition, the crowd applause was as deafening.
Those who left Symphony Hall after Yo-Yo Ma’s performance failed to enjoy and appreciate the very reason why he sometimes sits among the orchestra. Even without a composer present or a musician so celebrated that he appeared on Sesame Street, the BSO shines! They are a prime example of how the whole is greater than the parts. They are also quintessential Boston — like opening day at Fenway, Marathon Monday, or the Boston Pops on the Fourth of July. They mark our seasons (collectively and individually) as time passes.
And as it passes, some of those traditions remain — and some of them are ours.
John Tamilio III, Ph.D. is the Pastor of the Congregational Church of Canton, a Professor of Philosophy at Salem State University, and a professional guitarist who plays solo acoustic and for the Boston-based classic rock band, 3D. His playing has been applauded by David Brown (Simon & Garfunkel, Billy Joel), Jack Sonni (Dire Straits), and Carter Allen (WZLX). An aficionado of classical music, particularly the Baroque era, Tamilio’s publications are vast, covering not only music, philosophy, and theology, but the poetry of T.S. Eliot as well. He resides in Beverly with his wife Cynthia.
*More from Nelsons’s remarks:
If you give a rose to somebody, it’s expression of admiration, love, respect, compassion and that’s shows our respect to each other, respect to you, love to you, love to each other. And that’s also how we teach our young generation to proceed in life with a positivity and with respect and human compassion. So that’s one of the reasons for the flowers; it probably looks very funny but it’s also the same with music. I mean when we are here listening to any of the music we play during the season the music is about the love also about humanity. It shares the feelings of excitement of inner dreams of compassion of brotherhood of sometimes also dark moments and despair and the darkness. But then at the end you always find the moments of sun or a dream or even a dream to dare to dream about positivity at the end. . . . . I want to say we love you, our wonderful audiences and our wonderful community.
I can say it for myself and of course for each member of this amazing orchestra; I love this orchestra from the bottom of my heart.
G.R., I heartily agree with your observation below that Andris Nelsons has done a great job with the orchestra, and share your best wishes for him going forward. As far as I can tell, though, not a single one of your other assertions is true.
Andris Nelsons loves the BSO and does not want to stop leading this fine orchestra. Why? Because it has been so good for him and for the players – both their artistic development and esprit de corps – and has continued to thrive. Andris likes the city of Boston, but he is a European, with roots and family across the pond, plus the concurrent international MD appointment that most esteemed conductors hold today.
Regarding his weight gain – really, G.R.? – it actually correlates more closely with Leipzig than Boston, but even more so to factors in his personal life about which you and I know little. Andris shed the weight before last season, though, and really seemed to thrive in his 2025-26 programs here. His facial expressions and physical style on the podium have evolved a bit over the past 12 seasons – whose haven’t? – but there was plenty of bliss and serenity on display throughout last season, and certainly not less than on stage this past weekend. As for that “full anxiety” you think you observed? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve attended every program Nelsons has led with the BSO, sitting close by, and have never seen it.
Comment by nimitta — September 21, 2026 at 11:32 am
It will be good for Nelsons to quit BSO. Even though he has done a great job with the orchestra, I do not believe he has been truly happy in Boston or in America. You can tell from the way his weight has fluctuated since taking this job. I have also watched his facial expression change from one of pure bliss when he first started conducting to full anxiety over time. Last Friday, knowing he is to leave within a year, he started looking serene again. All this, while conducting, so it is his real mood. All the best to him where he feels most at home: in Europe.
Comment by G.R. — September 21, 2026 at 8:42 am
The Friday concert was very well attended. Very few empty seats visible from where I was sitting. I’m taking this year as my last opportunity to hear Nelsons conduct in our most excellent Symphony Hall.
Comment by Leon Golub — September 20, 2026 at 4:57 pm
@andrew hatcher Great to hear that Nelsons is delivering excellent performances. I would not have expected less of him. But how many people are actually attending? I simply refuse to attend BSO concerts since his official dismissal.
Comment by erich kessler — September 20, 2026 at 1:39 pm
Adding an encore identification to the next day’s concert which I attended, Sept 18, which was Mozart’s concerto 22nd with Emmanuel Ax and Berlioz’ Symphonie Fantastique. That concert I have not seen a review for here. Both of those performances were completely outstanding. For me, the Berlioz even went beyond the performance I heard in 1982 in Lucerne with the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Claudio Abbado…. The encore to the Mozart concerto Friday was Chopin’s Nocturne number 5 in F sharp, Op 15 no. 2…. I urge everyone to get tickets to Nelson’s last year of concerts as music director because I believe this is going to be a year of marvels
Comment by Andrew Hatcher — September 20, 2026 at 1:02 pm
Question to Concordia: what do you mean by this last sentence about the Brahms Symphony No. 4 performance? Was there a different conductor?
“But overall it seemed that lack of settling into the piece and a very young conductor made it less successful than the rest.”
Correction to my own Beethoven PC4 comment:
the premiere of Bʻs PC4 was the final selection in the first half of the Dec. 22, 1808 concert, but it was the first piece that Beethoven himself soloed in at that event. It begins with piano alone, like a solo sonata.
Comment by LDSP — September 20, 2026 at 11:14 am
@erich Kessler– I would hope so, though I have not been going myself and intend to only listen to radio broadcasts, such as last night’s broadcast. My wife and I fully intend to boycott our time and money.
Looking at the seating chart of certain concerts, such as the upcoming Machover concert, it seems the vast majority of seats remain unsold and it makes me think that concert among others being mostly unsold is why the BSO started putting out 40 and under deals to try and sell seats.
Thomas Dinsmore is worth a read as always:
https://thomaswdinsmore.substack.com/p/slithering-to-symphony-hall
I found the comments on the Thomas Dinsmore post perhaps even more interesting because there were BSO musicians and spouses writing there.
Personally speaking, I find it so phony when the BSO talks about wanting to be inclusive to all parts and communities of the city and I am glad Dinsmore addressed that.
Comment by Publius — September 20, 2026 at 10:36 am
Has anyone attended either Friday’s matinee or Saturday’s BSO concerts? How full or empty is the auditorium? Is a protest on the part of disenchanted BSO subscribers visible or not? Thank you for any updates.
Comment by erich kessler — September 20, 2026 at 9:40 am
On silence in music: 2 recommendations
HAMILTON
Kenneth Hamilton’s “After the Golden Age: Romantic Pianism in Modern Performance” (Oxford, 2007) is a must-read for those interested in audience reactions to romantic performances. It has dozens of pages describing the kinds of applause heard, esp. in the 1800s in Europe. In it, he does credit Beethoven as saying, “Silence is not what we artists want.”
LIVINGSTON
For the best contemporary discussion of silence in music, I refer you to recent PhD & professional longtime (Yale-trained) pianist and writer Guy Livingston, whose PHD verbal defense may be heard here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gh7OtSlSlxM
and whose 2025 dissertation may be read here (Chapter 5 uses Beethoven as a case study of what musical silence looks like on stage):
https://www.researchcatalogue.net/view/1712958/2780572?c=0
Livingston presented a concert at Tufts in 2017 that was reviewed by BMInt:
https://classical-scene.com/2017/03/12/immersed-in-antheil/
Comment by LDSP — September 20, 2026 at 9:15 am
Agreeing with SamW – Beethoven before the PC5:
Beethoven had played the solo part in his own first four piano concertos, adding a lot of improvisation and not ackwoledging much audience noise. The PC No. 4 opened the very long Dec. 22, 1808 concert at Vienna’s Theater an der Wien (the last time he led one of those monster concerts in public). He had definitely begun to break Etiquette Rule #2 above (performing with panache, due to his hearing loss, etc.).
Some comments collected about that concert here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beethoven_concert_of_22_December_1808
Agreeing with SamW – very different premiere of Beethoven PC5:
He was not even present for the premiere of the No. 5, which happened in Leipzig. So it makes sense that he might add a few extra markings to control transitional moments.
Responding to SamW – Mozart:
Mozart’s letters from his father often asked: “How did it go? How are they responding?” So it makes sense to me that his own letters to his father during his earliest travels without his father (1769-1781) would address audience responses.
The Mozarteum in Salzburg got a grant from the Packard Foundation in California and has been concentrating on digital scans of Leopold’s travel letters (see here for a group from the 1760s):
https://digital.staatsbibliothek-berlin.de/werkansicht?PPN=PPN1010319515&PHYSID=PHYS_0091&DMDID=DMDLOG_0015
and the Mozart family letters are being scanned now = see here for more complete info
https://dme.mozarteum.at/en/letter-documents/#chap_1.2
Comment by LDSP — September 20, 2026 at 9:06 am
In the Classical era, applause between movements, and during movements, was common and expected. One often reads of a particularly well-received movement being encored on the spot. This does not mean that composers always welcomed this. Mozart appears to have enjoyed it, though one cannot put too much weight on what he wrote in letters to his father, because in those letters he never missed an opportunity to mention how well one of his works or performances had been received. Beethoven, however, often went out of his way to avoid such interruptions. A notable example of this comes in a note a few pages before the end of the first movement of the 5th piano concerto:
NB. Non si fa una Cadenza, ma s’attacca subito il seguente.
This is at the end of an ostentatiously virtuosic movement; though it begins with a cadenza, the performer is forbidden from ending it with one. I think I know why Beethoven did this, and I think it clarifies why attitudes changed, and provides some guidance about when it’s ok to applaud between movements, and when it’s not.
I think Beethoven did not want the performer to add a cadenza at this point, because he did not want to share the stage, as it were, with anybody else, either with the performer or with the audience. He had conceived of his work as a whole, and he wanted it to be heard this way. He wanted complete artistic control. When an audience applauds between movements, it may express enthusiasm, even exhilaration, but it is an interruption, which necessarily interrupts the flow, if there is any, between the movements. In many works this is of no great importance, but to an artist like Beethoven, who works on a large scale, it is crucial. There is a rhythm to the transitions, and sometimes the transitions are the critical passages in the work. In the Waldstein sonata, a break for applause between the first and second movements would be monstrous, and a break between the second and third would be madness. In the Fifth symphony, the transition between the scherzo and the finale are among the most inspired bars that Beethoven ever wrote; fortunately he has made it near-impossible for the audience to get a word in at this point, even if it wanted to.
Beethoven does not want to share the stage with the performer, but this is not universal. Many works, particularly concertos, are compose very much with bravura performances in mind, with passages that are specifically designed to elicit wild outbursts of applause. In such cases it is more in the spirit of the music to applaud than not to do so. However there are may marginal cases, such as the Brahms concertos. They are certainly designed to show off virtuosity, yet to Brahms, even more than to Beethoven, the piano concerto was a fully integrated orchestral work, not at all a vehicle.
In today’s concert environment, applause, especially between movements, is primarily for the performer, or the performance, not for the composer, who is rarely in attendance, or for the work, which is often, only too often, familiar. This is what Beethoven did not want. He wanted the work to be everything. No composer has ever more fully exploited the uses of virtuosity for musical purposes, but virtuosity for its own sake he abandoned. Many composers after followed his lead. So to me the rule of etiquette would be: don’t applaud between movements unless you find the performance more interesting than the music. Of course it may be the performance that allows you to enter into the music, or the music to enter into you, and you may feel you owe it a debt of gratitude; but don’t fear, you may hold back, and repay it, with interest, when the performance is over.
Comment by SamW — September 19, 2026 at 7:59 pm
As LDSP mentioned, concertgoing was once a more interactive sport. It took Romantic conductors like Wagner and Mahler to force people to shut up between movements.
Menuhin wrote of a concert he gave out in the bush of Africa– a concerto (Mendelssohn) with an upright piano. There was murmuring and occasional applause when a particularly interesting passage flew by. He enjoyed the experience.
Comment by Concordia — September 19, 2026 at 11:57 am
While I know that no conductor or composer is irreplaceable, The capability of Andreis Nelsons is undeniable and his synthesis and compassion with the Orchestra is unique and positively magical.
I sang a Tanglewood in the 70s with a vocal study project with Phyllis curtain. It was magical too time has passed and things change because it’s inevitable losing Andris Nelsons is not inevitable. Please reverse course make a bouquet of all the red flowers and bring us back to reality and the magic Tanglewood and the BSO have always engendered!
Comment by Margareta Peregoy — September 19, 2026 at 10:03 am
In letters to his father, Mozart praised audiences who clapped between movements. Read this comment from him to his father about interruptions of applause in France from 1778:
https://michaelorenz.blogspot.com/2014/10/three-mistranslations-of-mozart-letter.html
Jake Smith (University of Chicago) wrote a humorous summary of the controversy mentioned in “Etiquette Rule #3” entitled “Does Music Have a Clapping Problem” for WFMT Chicago here:
https://www.wfmt.com/2017/10/20/does-classical-music-have-a-clapping-problem/
Comment by LDSP — September 19, 2026 at 9:54 am
I agree 99.999% regarding the importance of applause-free breaks between movements. But I recall a concert I attended in Virginia about 20 years ago, when the Academic of Ancient Music played the entire set of Brandenburgs–before a large, full house. The entire concert was wonderful, but the performance of the #5 harpsichord cadenza was superhuman, and when it ended the entire audience broke into brief but wild applause–even as the ensemble continued playing, as if it had been a solo in a jazz ensemble performance. This was, to be clear, applause DURING a movement, which one would usually view as even worse than BETWEEN movements. Inappropriate? Maybe. Forgivable? Maybe not. But at the moment it seemed totally inevitable–as if what we had seen and heard had put us in an alternate state, one that would account for that .001% sliver that lies beyond etiquette.
Comment by Paul H. Blaney — September 19, 2026 at 9:21 am
After wearing our red flowers in protest and hope, let us now wear them with respect and love — as we enjoy a wonderful new BSO season and keep our fingers crossed for the future?
Comment by Ashley — September 19, 2026 at 8:22 am
Who is the “very young conductor” referenced by Concordia? Nelsons is 47.
Comment by Meckbesser — September 19, 2026 at 7:49 am
Regarding etiquette: Yo-yo Ma is a celebrity and a big attraction for people who don’t tend to go to Symphony. When we hope to attract new audiences to classical music, I suppose we can also expect different behavior.
Comment by Tom Kush — September 19, 2026 at 4:38 am
I was sitting closer to the proscenium than I normally do, which might have influenced my impressions. Those were: everything quite fine and joyous (even if not 100% clinically perfect) in the Elgar, and good enough for the opener.
The Brahms was less memorable. Much excellent playing, of course, even with a few odd entries in the first movement. But much of it came off as wooden in the inner and lower voices. That was not at all a problem in the third movement, and it was the tempo changes and not inexpressive playing that left me a bit unsettled in the last. But overall it seemed that lack of settling into the piece and a very young conductor made it less successful than the rest.
We shall see how this plays out tomorrow. Word from the inside is that the Mozart will be lovely, and if Nelsons doesn’t get too cute the Berlioz should be fun.
Comment by Concordia — September 18, 2026 at 7:05 pm
Given the broadly reported controversy around Mr. Nelsons’ contract, it would be interesting to have a sense of comments made at the opening by the Mayor, President and CEO.
Comment by Robert Humberston — September 18, 2026 at 6:50 pm