Tonight we played at an old-folks home. We set up in what must usually be the cafeteria area, because there was a drink island right where the woodwinds should've been. It was a very ringy room, with cathedral-like dimensions, and all hard surfaces, from the polished industrial flooring to the five stories of windows. The Haydn we played has a couple parts where he writes a complete bar of tutti rest. In this hall, these just rung, with the room filling the space with a memory of the note we'd just played. I thought it was cool, but chatting with the conductor afterward, he called it wet, and made a face. Probably thought it made everything muddy, which no doubt was also true.
My kids were there, since my wife is out of town. Rather than hang out with the geriatric residents, they selected seats near the back of the orchestra, a few feet from me, more or less in the horn section. They had a good time. On the way home, my daughter sang something, and asked if we'd played it. I didn't recognize it, but when we got home, we played the Magic Flute on her iPod. We'd performed the overture, which she didn't recognize as the Magic Flute since, well, there wasn't any singing or talking. She had a version with kids chattering, play within a play, nicely done... and she'd been singing some aria or something. I offered her her flute, in case she wanted to make some noise to charm the dragon too, but no luck, she wasn't going to be tricked into practicing. We ended up listening to a lot of Mozart, while doing the dishes. Including the Overture to the Magic Flute, just a little faster and a little better.