Lured from my nest by music
Governess Season: Live Music
Historically, I’m not a big concert-goer.
As a teenager, I ended up on the ground, head under my sweatshirt at an all-day live show. There were simply too many people. It was too bright and too dusty and I needed a break from seeing them all moving around, shouting, lining up endlessly for very small, extortionately priced food and drink.
I did better at shows with one band, maybe with an opening act, especially if they were at night. The dark peeled me away from the crowds, blended the masses together. As I got older, I avoided music that didn’t have assigned seating. College had plenty of lawns and mosh pits and I wanted no part of the herd that convened in either place.
Moving to Berlin meant giving up my car, something I desperately wanted to do, but I didn’t realize how much that would separate me from music. I listened to most of my favorites in the car, singing to distract myself from traffic. No one sings on the U-Bahn. Well, no one who doesn’t want dirty looks sent their way.
By 2019, I’d only been to see one band in my new city. A friend’s husband performed in a small club. The group is beloved in Germany, despite being Canadian and the crowd was our age or older. Not a mosh pit in site. Gentle folk fans swayed with their beers and sang along in their second (or third) language, leaving plenty of space for everyone to breathe. At the end, the two lead singers came off the stage and led a bitching conga line sing-a-long of 99 Luftballoons, the German hit from the 90s. It was glorious.
“I could do that again,” I thought.
(Sadly this video isn’t of 99 Luftbaloons, which as far as I know wasn’t filmed, but this is from the same stage we’ve seen Madison Violet play on multiple times. We’re too shy to be close enough to the stage for our heads to show, but we’re likely just out of frame.)
Then, Covid shut things down. They didn’t tour again until late 2021, but we were back, and this time, we knew the words like everyone else there.
But I didn’t seek out other shows. What I saw was often due to the performer rather than the desire to listen to music for its own sake. When my cousin performed with her choir at Proms in London 2024, I felt over and loved being immersed from my reserved seat. But I didn’t run home and peruse the symphony calendar. It always felt like a one-off.
One place we’ve returned to three or four times is the Piano Salon Christophori in northern Berlin. An enterprising piano restorer decided to found a piano salon by gathering small concerts of touring musicians. He began hosting them in a room off the back courtyard in the Kreuzberg neighborhood of Berlin, but soon outgrew the space and moved to his restoration space, high-ceilinged with pieces of pianos in progress and art on the walls. Their website doesn’t give a specific founding date, but press interviews and clippings start in 2009. They now offer four or five shows a week, featuring award-winning performers of chamber music from around the world.
Most recently, we saw Mayumi Kanagawa, violinist, and Han-Wen Jennifer Wu, pianist, play Schubert, Dvorak, Faure and Gershwin. In the smaller space, with help-yourself wine and water available, it was possible to sink into the surprisingly good acoustics with fellow music lovers. Some perhaps more persnickety than others; my mother-in-law was shushed for speaking too enthusiastically (she is American after all) fifteen full minutes before the start time. She took it very well, far better than I would have, if we’re being honest.
I never thought of myself as a big classical fan. There are some pieces I love, and Yo-Yo Ma is my favorite thing to listen to in the bath, but I now realize that the energy of a classical performance suits me far better than a rock show. Quiet seating, breaks with silence instead of applause, and the chance to space out and enjoy something without anything asked of me. This, I love.
A few months back, we saw virtuoso mandolinist Chris Thile and it was hands down one of the best shows I’ve seen in my life. Any genre, any time. This was especially satisfying, as we invited friends to join and they were dubious. “A mandolin concert? Just one guy? That’s a LOT of mandolin.” We persisted.
It was a lot of mandolin, but you can do far more with that instrument than either of us expected. Thile can just as easily bust out bluegrass as Bach and even whipped out Britney for his encore. You haven’t really lived until you’ve heard ‘Toxic’ on a solo mandolin, I now believe. Even more amusing, was the very wide range of ages in the crowd, all of whom were ready to sway to anything he played. I’d travel to see him again, no question. Here’s a taste:
Bolstered by our success seeing classical live, B and I agreed to join his parents to go to one of the “lunchtime concerts” put on by the Berlin Philharmonie. I had long been curious about these shows, which are Wednesdays at 1pm, doors open at noon, and free.
As an eater with a lot of requirements (gluten-intolerant and vegan) I should have known there’d be nothing for me to eat there. I’d rushed over from working to discover all the options involved both gluten AND cheese, so I prepared myself to starve as we looked for seats. Or leaning spots. Or floor. It was soon clear that people had queued before noon and possibly as early as 11:30 because every horizontal surface in the place was covered with classical-loving butts.
My in-laws and I ended up on a mezzanine with an obstructed view of the piano where the musicians would play a series of duets. Once I had taken a break to sit on the floor and talk myself off the hangry ledge, I calculated the number of people. At least 1,000. In the foyer of the symphony. Oof. While the playing was beautiful when it began, I was overwhelmed by the packed space and eager to eat as soon as the performers took a long series of bows. An hour was just about the right length for leaning against a ledge. After leaving, I was able to find an excellent veggie bowl and was better able to digest the music as well.
Going forward, I’m looking at the formal Philharmonic season to see if we can finally see the full assembly play. The calendar looks excellent and knowing I have a seat and making sure I eat in advance is my plan for my next show.
In addition, I’m hoping my friend’s husband’s band will be touring again this fall and that they play in Berlin. After all, it’s nice to branch out but it’s also the best to see a band play that I’ve truly come to love.
This post is part of the Governess Season challenge, running June–August 2026.
A bingo board of adventures awaits, with prizes! Try something new, write about it, and share.
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