Detroit

        Lately Detroit's problems are making the news, even here in New York.We are told of the abandoned houses, the vastly overcrowded schools, the lack of jobs, the flight of the population to the suburbs and, of course, crime. I think there is now even talk of the city's going bankrupt.Clearly, this would be a disaster. So I cannot help but search for some positive sign or memorable event during my stay in the region.And then I remembered Orchestra Hall.
        The original city of Detroit started by the River forming the hub of a wheel from which several avenues stretched out to the distance like spokes of a wheel. The center spoke was and is Woodward Avenue. This avenue has many faces. Some quite attractive, some total blanks where no buildings were ever built on the available lots. Several miles from the river stood a row of nearly or totally abandoned two and three storied buildings, one of which was the original concert hall serving the Detroit Symphony.One of the musicians remembered hearing concerts there and was reminded of the incredible acoustics.So he decided to investigate. He managed to enter the hall,clapped his hands stirring up the pigeons roosting in the rafters and surveyed the filthy horror of the building which had been left to its own demise all these years and wonders over wonders, the sound traveled ,clear as a bell, high into the rafters over the dusty seats and back down to the stage.
       So he talked to some of his colleagues and they, together with their conductor, decided to present a performance to the public and the board of the Symphony. I managed to convince my husband who,as an economist, had no sympathy for hair brained idealistic escapades, to come to the concert. He agreed to join me, if for no other reason than to prove that he was right and we were all wrong.
       Volunteers had dusted off all the seats. Somehow they had managed to attach parachute silk over the stage which had no roof left but could not convince the pigeons to find different accommodations who continued to fly around under the makeshift roof. My husband just smirked. And then the oboist appeared on stage and started unpacking his instrument.
       It is the oboist who gives the pitch to the orchestra which he now was preparing to do. As the first notes floated  across the stage and into the hall  a stunned silence settled over the audience. We almost didn't dare to breathe. The sound was so magical as if descending direct from heaven, if you believed in heaven. I looked at my husband who had stopped smirking but could not quite manage to shut his mouth, he was that surprised. Needless to say, the concert was a roaring success and was the beginning of a very slow rebuilding and revitalization of the hall. Today the hall has been restored and forms the center of an entire performing  arts complex.
        It is often said in this country that "the Arts" are the icing on the cake. As far as I am concerned the "Arts" stand for creativity. Creativity of the highest order.Detroit has always had a large base of highly talented people among its broad segment of the population. It is these people who will slowly bring this city to life again.