Oakland is a beautiful place in part because it lacks pretension. If the vibes are vibing, Oaklanders will be there, and they will be making it even vibier, most likely. The other day, I went to go see Faye Webster perform at the Paramount Theater, with the Magik*Magik Orchestra as her backing band. I expected good vibes – the Magik*Magik Orchestra is a very cool “made-to-order” orchestra, homegrown across the bridge in the West Bay – but I was still surprised by just how good they were that night. The music was great, which helped, but it was the crowd that really powered the night.
There were some tuxes in attendance–largely represented by the very dapper ushers in the theater–but there were even more thrifted gowns, largely stretched facial piercings, and oversized hoodies and camo trucker hats (sooo many camo trucker hats). The youth of today have happily dropped the taboo of wearing merch for a specific artist to that artist's live show; I can’t count the number of tote bags I saw emblazoned with a line drawing of Webster's face over a faux orchestral score. Fans hastily threw baggy tees with the same design over plaid shirts and satin nighties.
The days of strictly delineated "scenes" with unspoken rules (for fashion, and cultural cache, mainly) has largely collapsed, at least in my observations. I attend a lot of hardcore punk and emo shows, and the audience overlap is much larger than when I was growing up, when raccoon stripe highlights were a faux pas at Gilman and par for the course in a less rudimentary (non-derogatory) venue. Those same JNCO-reviving kids were at this Faye Webster show. And everyone got down with the instrumental arrangement of "Feeling Good Today," with a woodwind medley taking the place of the vocal parts.
My interaction with the rest of the audience beyond my friend and fellow attendee Taylor was fleeting (the house lights were dimmed to the max, and conversing with others is generally frowned upon in this kind of setting). Despite this, I found myself struck by a universal feeling of respect towards the musicians. Sometimes going to a concert can feel more like a personality trait or an Insta photo-op than a conscious Decision to Patron the Arts. Half the set is blocked by a sea of blurry videoing or drowned out by a yapathon of epic proportions. This has been true even at other Faye shows I've attended! In this crowd, though, the oldheads in Hawaiian shirts, the TikTok youth in their scenester finest, and everyone who was grateful for a cushioned seat kept their attention on the stage and on the stage only.
I was also so taken by the scene because, by many measures, we were at a symphony concert. Webster’s most recent album is called Underdressed at the Symphony. The tour then, naturally, has included a run of shows in gilded venues with the accompaniment of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, and–lucky for us in the East Bay–the aforementioned Magik*Magik Orchestra. I attend a lot of symphony concerts, and one of the barriers to a more active and engaged listenership that I've picked up on and been outright told about is the perceived sense of elitism. Many people feel like they can't attend an orchestral performance because they don't have the early music canon injected in their veins, or a tuxedo that fits, or the estimated tax bracket associated with that kind of thing. Even when institutions intentionally try to lower those barriers to entry, the stigma can remain.
The symphonic landscape in the Bay Area is an interesting one, in that it undermines a lot of those assumptions. Over in the West Bay, the San Francisco Symphony carries the prestige of an established, major American orchestra. But in Oakland, for my money, it’s the innovative and on-the-ground acts of creation that carry more potential for the Town. Oakland boasts not only the Oakland Symphony, but also more grassroots organizations like Awesöme Orchestra Collective, Bay Area Rainbow Symphony, Prometheus Symphony Orchestra, and Oakland Community Orchestra (among many others!). It was awesome to see Webster employ a community-based, freelancer-based orchestra. That decision intentionally supported working musicians in a challenging, rapidly changing industry.
The starry, low-lit setting and orchestral flourishes–in "Lego Ring," a tuba delightfully stood in for Lil Yachty's rap feature–were really the only embellishments, besides a stray flash photo or a lone "Bravissima!" Webster had no opener, and she and the small orchestra really filled out the small stage. Attendees buzzed with excitement and anticipation in hushed, florid tones, and we settled into a cozy hour-and-half of tunes. I enjoyed the opportunity to hear an orchestra outside of a sometimes intimidating, grandiloquent concert hall; and admittedly, to see The Youth in rapt attention in a setting they are often barred from, implicitly, or predisposed to thinking is not for them. At the same time, punk shows are increasingly actually for everyone now, so why is this such a surprise? Emo shows routinely have trumpets, trombones, even flutes--why not a bassoon, or a French horn? What can we learn we enjoy, even seek out, when we shed the pretense? Let us all be underdressed at the symphony.