PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Last night, this old hippie attended her first rock concert. Well, the Trans Siberian Orchestra is not a true “rock band,” as my daughter who accompanied me pointed out, but it is close enough. I was propelled to buy two tickets one night when I was hungry for music, music that would energize as well as entertain. Having listened to Rochmaninoff’s “Vespers,” Handel’s Messiah,” and Pavorrati’s “O Holy Night” countless times, I logged on the internet only to find that the singalong Messiah, and any holiday offerings of the symphony were past. Few options remained before the new year.
One group, Trans Siberian Orchestra, sounded familiar. My work schedule actually would allow me to attend their Sunday afternoon concert. I googled the group, an eclectic mix of strings, percussion, guitar, and vocals, and decided to give it a go.
During my last hour at work yesterday, I felt my excitement building and reveled in feelings that I have not had for a while: Looking forward to something in particular. I rushed out of work and picked up my daughter, who was dressed to the nines in her own particular style. Turns out she looked like she could have been on stage. When I mentioned that she laughed. “I can’t help it if they copied my style!” which is a mix of Victorian and Goth I suppose. She looked stunning with her long blond hair and sweeping black coat.
I shed my work black, slipped on jeans and a cream colored top, and we were ready to go. In retrospect perhaps I should have worn my long black skirt.
“You look great dressed up” I said as we walked along with the crowd toward the arena. She seemed to be enjoying the occasional looks she drew.
“Everyone looks great dressed up. That’s why they call it ‘dressed up.'” More laughter that felt as good as the anticipation.
I insisted we pass up healthier fare and bought hot dogs and fries for both of us once we were inside. I had been working since 6:45, and we were both hungry. I don’t usually buy hot dogs but confess to savoring them at cookouts and ballparks.
Our seats were in the top tier, front row. If the plexiglass extension of the low wall in front of us had not been there, I might have rolled right over and landed in someone’s lap below. I had a similar feeling once before at my one and only attendance at an Ohio State football game. I was at the top of the stadium, and looking down at the field below, was sure I was going to fall onto its green turf.
Folding our long legs back to fit between the wall and our seats, we settled in. For me that meant meeting the people beside me, exchanging all types of information about ourselves and the band. For my daughter it meant studying the lighting and staging effects with her physicist’s eye and holding her striking presence straight and composed as she waited.
I, on the other hand, was unloading binoculars and a monocluar (which I cheerfully offered to my row mates) and my camera, looping its strap over my wrist lest it fall onto the concrete floor, or worse, over the the wall. I finished my drink, and as the lights dimmed, I leaned forward on my chair, not sure what to expect.
Snippets of Martin Luther King Jr, John F. Kennedy, Churchill, Regan delivering famous speeches played across the LED arrays at the back and in front of the stage “I have a dream.” “Ask not what your country can do for you…” “Tear down this wall…” Lights. Sounds. “Fog” pouring across the stage. A string section from our city’s orchestra sat at the ready. The drummer surrounded by a perfusion of percussion instruments looked small in the middle of them. Two keyboards waited for the musicians who would alternately pound and coax amazing sounds from their keys.
Sound, laser lights, and motion exploded. The TSO concert had begun.
I enjoyed it all, drinking in the energy, the music, the passion. The audience, all 2100 of us, included every age and race and style. Christmas stories were told and carols were sung in a style, while never imagined by their creators, that still spoke to the heart. The first half of the show was all Christmas. The second half was a mix of other themes and songs familiar to TSO fans.
I may write more later, after work, but for now I will say the evening was a success beyond my hopes. Music, sound, and energy filled my body and soul. Joy and just plain fun bathed us all.
As I read today’s morning prayer scripture, I smiled. Isaiah could never have imagined what I say and heard last night, but his words described it well:’
“SIng out, heavens, and rejoice, earth, break forth into song, you mountains, For the Lord comforts his people and shows mercy to his afflicted….”
Speak Your Mind