The Handel + Haydn Society of Boston first performed Handel's Messiah (or at least portions of it) on Christmas night 1815, only 73 years after it was first performed in Dublin around Easter, 1742.
And starting in 1854, H + H has performed the entire Messiah every year at Christmas time. This year was no exception, with concerts in late November and early December in Boston's Symphony Hall.
Generations upon generations of Bostonians, both native born and transplants, have been able to hear this music every single year.
As I sat in the concert hall -- itself a throwback unchanged in character since its very first opening night in 1900 (according to Wikipedia, "The hall's leather seats are the originals installed in 1900") -- I started to count back through the generations with this question in mind, "How far back do you have to go until you find an era of audience who are now all dead?"
Is anyone who attended the performance in Christmas 1963, one month after Kennedy's assassination, still alive? Probably yes.
How about the audience of 1953? Or the audience of 1943? If children were in attendance, and they were probably in audience in 1943, then yes.
But at some point, for some audience, there are no longer any living members of THAT performance, whichever performance it was. And all of the musicians who played the notes that were heard by that audience are also dead.
And I thought to myself: Different musicians. Different audience members. Old ones replaced by new ones. Yet, the music doesn't change. Always the same music.
That must be a definition of culture.