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This past week we traded orchestras with New York. As Philharmonic graced the stage of Orchestra Hall, what do you suppose the resident orchestra was up to? Carnegie Hall, of course. It brings to mind a story.

My friend Pete plays trombone, teaches at Indiana, Northwestern and Roosevelt Universities. He frequently subs for the New York Philharmonic, as well as the Chicago Symphony. Several years ago, when the Philharmonic was preparing for a stop in Chicago, Pete was returning from having played with them in Asia. He said he casually mused to the guys, "Wow. That's a little bold to take the Mahler Fifth to Chicago, isn't it?"

Indeed it is. During the Solti era, the Mahler Fifth Symphony became the CSO's signature piece. Crowned by the soaring virtuosity of trumpeter Adolph Herseth, the CSO set the gold standard for orchestral playing with that piece. If you recall the six championship seasons of Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls, the CSO had been its own dream team for fifty seasons. For New York to play the Mahler Fifth in the CSO's own living room—that's audacious. At least, that's what Pete was thinking. But the guys of the New York Phil saw it differently: "He was our Music Director," they said.

—Ahh. Of course that's true. Gustav Mahler moved to New York City to lead the Opera and ended up spending a few seasons at the Philharmonic.

And so the New York/Chicago rivalry goes.

That New York Philhamonic concert is one I'll never forget—not because they played a Symphony by one of their own—but because of the unlikely convergence of musical titans. Dotting the box seats were Pierre Boulez (another former New York Philharmonic Music Director), then-CSO Music Director Daniel Barenboim, his gifted wife and pianist Elena Bashkirova, Christoph von Dohnanyi, who was in the midst of a production at Lyric Opera, and of course Lorin Maazel: the man on the podium. Much of the CSO was scattered throughout the audience. Adolph Herseth himself, who had retired by then, was there; as was violinist Rachel Barton Pine.

The collective hours of practice time in that room is mind-boggling. The knowledge and working relationships those people had had was a veritable encyclopedia of Western Classical Music for the last hundred years, at least. And the musicians of the New York Philharmonic were equal to the task.

It was a glorious night. After the concert, old classmates and colleagues, section mates and fellow artists reconnected and raised their glasses for the love of music. It's almost impossible to quantify the commitment and achievement, the spirit for reaching and reaching out that the music engendered. I only know I'd hate to face this economic crisis without it.