Recently, during one of my domestic excavations, I tapped into a rich vein of concert programs from the 1980s. I’m only just now flipping through some of them, and they’re churning up waves of nostalgia and making me wistful for an irretrievable past. I mean, I always have been, sort of, but it is only getting worse with age. I can’t believe how lucky we had it back then and the performers and concerts I saw! And these represent but the merest fraction.

What surprises me is how vividly even the program notes and articles conjure a faded world. It’s unfortunate that in the quest to “demystify” classical music, everything has become so watered-down. And of course the recording industry, at least as it existed in those days, is in tatters.

But back then, giants still walked the earth. Artists had major recording contracts, and when they came to town, people were eager to see them. Also, you could put on the radio and hear a complete symphony, even one that’s not played all the time. So when it turned up in concert, you were excited to be able to hear it live. Elgar’s Symphony No. 2? Berlioz’s “Symphonie funèbre et triomphale?” Tchaikovsky’s “Manfred?” I’m there!

Now, after decades of pandering, instead of elevating, in our movies and our television and our books and our music, and with the rise of the internet, people’s attention spans have withered, and interest in any kind of personal growth or brush with the transcendent is practically nonexistent. People can’t even be bothered to get dressed up to go to church anymore. Why should they put on a clean shirt to attend an interminable concert? The snake has been devouring its tail for a long time. I wonder how many regard music these days as more than entertainment, as “product.”

Alas, it is what it is. I am so glad these printed programs survive. These days, even I hang onto those for most recent concerts only for a week or two before they go to the recycle bin.

I figure from time to time I can share some images and conjure a few happy memories from 40 years ago, especially on days when I’m up against deadline or have other work to do. I hope they give you some vicarious enjoyment. Try not to be embittered like me.