Some time last spring, a friend mentioned that our local home team was playing a Stravinsky piece that she'd always wanted to hear. She was frustrated because the only time she could go was on a Friday afternoon and she didn't want to go alone. Just an idle comment. Because I don't work Fridays, and because I enjoy watching music being made, I offered to go along with her.
Then we got busy and started arranging our other music schedules and somehow forgot that we'd signed up for a Friday afternoon concert. Through another series, we both separately signed up for concerts on Friday night and Saturday night.
I realized it would be a challenging but fun weekend, requiring me to be well rested and alert. I wanted to get the most possible out of each event. Then an old college friend called to say he and his son were doing the traditional spring break east coast college tour and he'd like to stay with me. Of course! Any time! And of course, it turned out to be this weekend.
So. Wednesday night, we had a haircut. Thursday, I was out the door early so I could swim a day early -- I realized there was no way I'd fit a swim in on Friday. Then I had one of those days-from-hell at work, where fortunately, my manager rose to the challenge I posed for her and she helped me straighten things out. But I was tired by the end of the day.
My friend and his son showed up late Thursday night and we stayed up late talking. On Friday, Robert went to work and the rest of us hung around for a bit. Around noon, we picked up my concert buddy and headed into town, dropping friend and son off at the subway. They had their day and the son spent the night with his older brother, who's attending a local college.
My concert buddy, college friend, and Robert all met for dinner, then went off to the concert together, where my concert buddy met her husband and two additional friends.
Saturday morning, we hung out with the college friend, then shoved him out the door so he could meet up with his son and drive to western MA for more colleges. I caught up on three days' worth of newspapers. Then, we stripped beds, did laundry, Robert worked on the yard, and I went for a walk. Finally, we dashed into town, met completely other friends who were also going to the Saturday evening concert, and then headed off to the concert hall together.
At intermission, we dashed upstairs to greet my concert buddy, her husband, and two additional friends.
Back at home, we climbed into bed and are now ready to face this rainy morning. My calendar for today is marked "do not schedule anything." However, my concert buddy is giving a recital next week that we can't attend, so we may go to her dress rehearsal. But otherwise, we'll use Sunday as the good lord intended it -- as a day of rest. Phew.
Oh -- and the concert lineup:
Friday afternoon: Boston Symphony Orchestra played Ravel, Prokofiev, and Stravinsky, conducted by Charles Dutoit.
http://bso.org/bso/index.jsp?id=bcat5220002
Friday evening: Preservation Hall Jazz Band and Blind Boys of Alabama (loved PHJB, BBfA were fine but weird).
http://www.blindboys.com/
http://www.preservationhall.com/band/index-about.htm
Saturday evening: Another in the Rob Kapilow "What Makes it Great Series" -- this time a Dvorak string quartet.
http://www.robkapilow.com/wmigreat.shtml
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4 comments:
You thought BBofA were weird? Huh. I saw them several years ago an they were great. Of course, it a completely different context (with Peter Gabriel).
My, what a weekend you had. Made our regular running around kind of weekend seem positively tame! I'm tired just from reading about it.
J -- I have since heard that BBoA used to be a down-to-earth testifyin' gospel band. They still sing wonderfully and have great arranagements. But apparently their time with Peter Gabriel caused them to go commercial and we all found the patter between the songs really unfortunate -- things like "Are you glad to see us?" repeated over and over as inducement to get us to cheer. There was also a lot of held notes "without a center" -- just weird shouting almost to show that the singers had a long breath. A little uncomfortable, I guess.
But the PHJB more than made up for it -- they were better than we've ever seen them -- tight, great tunes, beautiful voices.
I saw BBoA years ago at Denver's Bluebird Theater on East Colfax. It was a shimmering, amazing, house-rocking concert. One of those where the whole place seems of a piece, everything is united, and single moments are eternal. Really a great concert. The weirdness at that show for me was a kind of touching one: one of the old guys wanted to keep getting up on his feet, and a young guy behind him seemed employed ONLY to push the old guy back down, as, I suppose, the exertion of getting up was bad for the fellow's heart. Sad to hear about what seems like somebody's very bad idea to make the great group, who have been together for 90 years or so, more commercial?! Grrrrr. . .
The arrangements for BBoA were great. The singing was pretty good. The patter was awful and off-putting. Things like "are you glad to see us?" (polite applause) "Are you GLAD to see us?"
There were some other weird moments -- a lot of touting their GRAMMY-WINNING albums.
And we saw the same popping up behavior, except all three singers were popping up and had to be pushed down. The second the bass player would go on to the next singer, the previous one would pop up again. It was weird and funny at the same time.
The PHJB more than made up for it, though. They were much much better than I'd ever seen them.
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