Hearing a decently played program of oft-recorded standard repertoire in the company of noisy strangers is not. Why should I come hear you play Op. 111 in Alice Tully Hall when I can stay home and listen to Artur Schnabel playing it?
I'm headed in the opposite direction. After attending three or four concerts all of last year, already this year I've seen the Berkeley Symphony play Octandre (and a vivid Carter Piano Concerto), Rob Kapilow obsess over Copland's Appalachian Spring (in a mostly fun way), and Alarm Will Sound swing to the music of John Adams (3 blog posts remaining). With each concert, I'm astonished how much more rich, full, and fun the live listening experience is. If it means occasional disruptions like that college age guy next to me in Berkeley during Octandre who ignored his cell phone but then gave in to temptation and listened to the subsequent voice mail (it was a girl). Hey, I could even tolerate the Stravinsky finale...
Anyway, I count at least five enticing concerts in the next several weeks. While I admit to being overrun with a bounty of great
CDs MP3s, given the right repertoire, I don't think "the institution of the classical-music concert as we know it has just about run its course."