With what force could I hold back the tides of the sea? When the storm builds, when the wave strikes the rock, can I hold it back with the palm of my hand? Could I build a wall that would keep the waters neatly tucked in?
With what force will the music be held back from these unhearing ears? Does the music need an ear in order to be heard when the sound penetrates through every other member? Dead ears will not bar out the sound when the music is pulsating through the floor, when I can even feel the vibrations in the air. The music would not be denied. I heard it. With every part of my being, I heard it.
If I can read lips to hear words, if I can read eyes to hear expression, can I not read fingers to hear music? As I watched the fingers skip over the finger board, as I watched the delicate balance between bow and string, my mind filled in the notes my ears had rejected. The unified sound took on its individual character unique to each instrument.
I'm not a brass person, but even I had to appreciate the experience of sitting not three feet away, staring up the bell of a trumpet, as the notes of Hayden's Concerto for Trumpet poured out.
The interaction, the concentration, the precision, and even the delight.
This is why I sit in the front row.