Brahms trauma, New York the enemy, and the Bake-Off Cinematic Universe

Well, my week was just trucking along, my primary source of agony being the eternal struggle of not practicing enough and falling behind (falling behind what, Sharon? I don’t know, just BEHIND) and then the bombshell landed that the New York Philharmonic has poached Gustavo Dudamel from LA.

I am, to be honest, not cut up over Dudamel leaving so much as I am affronted at the AUDACITY of New York City. I mean, look at these passages from the NYT article (bolding is mine):

When Dudamel appeared at the [New York] Philharmonic last spring, for a two-program Schumann symphony cycle, some players, hoping to win him over, showed up to rehearsals bearing gifts and handwritten notes. Inside his dressing room, a group of musicians gave him a bottle of the Brooklyn-made Widow Jane bourbon, telling him the Philharmonic would welcome him if he could find a way to spend more time in New York.

[Deborah Borda] recounted meeting him secretly in various European cities over the past year, often flying in and out within 24 hours to avoid suspicion, as she tried to secure a deal. (Seeing him in Los Angeles, she said, “just didn’t feel kosher.”)