Saturday evenings at the Berlin Philharmonic present a unique opportunity to stand amongst ardent music-lovers and phone-checking partners, born-and-bred Berliners and reverent tourists, aging women in ball gowns and bespectacled students in jeans. And yet, to some extent at least, everyone is there for one reason: to get inside the music.
This campaign — from the first orchestra in the world to break tradition by bringing the musicians into the middle of the hall, encircled by the audience — brought a city even closer to the classical by bringing them inside the instruments themselves.
The photos are magical: at times majestic, at times gently graceful, but always strangely silent. The quiet nooks of the violin and the empty cathedrals of the organs are breathtaking, like the Philharmonic itself, but they do not share its movement, nor do they invoke its sound. They are tranquil, static. They are waiting for you to come inside, to come closer, to enter these unconventionally familiar spaces in your ball gown or your faded jeans and wait patiently until the music begins.