The sound reverberates off the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the chandeliers, the hardwood floors. Violi
The sound reverberates off the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the chandeliers, the hardwood floors. Violins, drums, a piano fill the Gilded Age mansion’s parlor on 5th Avenue, now the home of the American Irish Historical Society. In a connecting room, in between an oyster bar and a bar-bar, are the woodwinds. I stand looking at the oboist for the longest time—I used to play oboe. Walking down the fan of marble steps into the subdued, grotto-like lobby, a xylophone note greets each footstep. Alone there, it echoes off the polished stone, crystalline and otherworldly. Upstairs, above the parlor floor, is another wood-paneled room with bar. A violinist stands sawing, beautifully, in the middle of a hushed crowd. It’s as if someone pressed pause on normal life, and play on something considerably more sublime. At Home with “Brownstone”: the Metropolis Ensemble Celebrates Ten Years -- source link
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