Brilliant Season Opening: OSIB Between Intimacy and Storm – an Evening That Resonates

An evening that began quietly and ended powerfully

Yesterday at 8:00 PM the Auditori noticeably filled; the rows closed like a well-tuned instrument. In front of me sat a mixture of regular listeners, curious students and a few tourists who had evidently checked the Guía de conciertos: inicio de la temporada impresionista con un toque posromántico. The air smelled of late spring — a mild breeze brushed across the Plaça, somewhere a tram bell was still ringing — and the expectation was audible: eager, but without haste.

Turina: a small, inner prayer

The opening with Joaquín Turina's La oración del torero was surprisingly intimate. No fanfare, no triumphant cry, but a gathering. The strings drew lines as if holding a confidential conversation behind heavy curtains. You could almost count the musicians' breaths: restrained, warm, with an almost speaking vibrato. In moments like these it becomes clear how much an orchestra can tell quiet stories — one could have heard a pin drop, as noted in Deslumbrante inicio de temporada del OSIB: de Turina a Strauss, una noche que perdura.

De Falla and Cabassi: piano as a colorist

Davide Cabassi took the solo parts in Manuel de Falla's Noches en los jardines de España. Anyone expecting a Spanish fireworks display was pleasantly surprised: instead, Cabassi relied on fine tonal colors and an almost painterly restraint. His playing fit into the orchestra like a brushstroke in a larger picture. Percussive details in the cymbals, delicate woodwinds, shimmering harmonies — the piano was not a spotlighted soloist but part of a Mediterranean mosaic. This choice gave the piece atmosphere rather than mere virtuosity.

Debussy: a dream in flute tones

In the Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune the flute was the breath of the evening: a half-sleeping beginning that threaded its magic through the orchestra and then faded away. Harp and woodwinds painted diffuse images of light and shadow — not a big clean-up, but rather a sunk-in diary. Some in the hall sighed softly, others held their breath; in such moments an audience shares something private. The music remained meditative, without demanding a dramatic resolution.

Strauss’ Don Juan: full force to finish

Then Richard Strauss: Don Juan challenged the OSIB in a very different way. The basses pushed forward, horns called, percussion and string power broke through — a fulminant finale that showed this orchestra can do both: whisper and thunder. Conductor Pablo Mielgo relied on clear structures instead of a wild emotional display; it felt focused, with a steady pulse. The applause afterward was long, some audience members rose to their feet and clapped, others laughed, exhausted with joy.

Why this evening matters for Palma

Evenings like this do the city good. They remind us that culture here is not a foreign concept but part of everyday life: students, neighbors, and holidaymakers meet in the dark foyer and talk about flute passages and book recommendations. The announced repeat performance in Manacor gives the program a second chance to reach more people — a welcome gesture at a time when cultural venues vie for attention.

I left the Auditori late; the streetlights cast long shadows across the Plaça, and two students were still passionately discussing that very flute passage by the exit — this is how the small, lively afterglow of a concert is born. The next day someone might find themselves thinking again about a particular phrase, a small vibrato, or the dull rumble of the basses. And that is the beautiful thing: an evening that lingers means more than another checkmark in the event calendar. It is a tiny cultural spring that can be felt in Palma.