Do you see what I see?

Several weeks ago the kids’ piano teacher asked if we’d like to attend the Monster Piano Concert sponsored by MSU’s College of Music. Always looking for ways to expand our children’s artistic horizons (and give them ammunition to mock us in the years to come – “Can you believe Mom and Dad took us to that crazy concert?!”) we bought tickets and yesterday attended the concert.

The set-up was simple: eight grand pianos, eight pianists, one conductor. The pianos were facing each other, four on each side of the stage. The concert opened with songs by Brahms and Bach and thankfully I recognized them – just like any concert it’s nice when you recognize the songs (okay, fine, the “pieces” for all you purists out there, i.e. Sean). Then the pianists moved on to a Richard Wagner piece. For the uninitiated, Wagner is pronounced Vogner. But to amuse myself at these events I enjoy asking Sean if the musicians will do any work by Dick Wagner… trust me, it’s funny.

Anyway, the first half was enjoyable but not exactly what you’d call upbeat. The second half, with pieces by Scott Joplin and John Philip Sousa, promised to be a bit more toe-tapping.

When the pianists came back from intermission they rearranged themselves so the four pianists we’d been looking at on stage left had moved to stage right and we were now seeing the other four. But when we got a look at the lady leading the new four-pack we saw a bit more than anticipated.

I’ve been to a lot (A LOT) of orchestra performances and I know the traditional dress for performers is black tie. For women that usually translates to black pants and black shirt. Now, I don’t know for certain, but I’m fairly confident that a see-through black bodysuit with appliqués strategically placed over your boobies is not exactly black tie wear. But that’s what piano lady #1 was sporting. Fine, I can deal with a bit of a see-through shirt; at least we couldn’t see her boobs. I thought we couldn’t anyway. But when she turned to sit at the piano the appliqués didn’t cover the side boob cleavage. And we got a look at that for the next forty minutes; each time she reached up to turn the page there it was – side cleavage. Not good.

It’s mildly ironic; during intermission Sean and I were talking about what orchestras could do to develop more of a fan base of people under 40. We mentioned incorporating video or having the conductor or various instrumentalist address the audience, or even having the conductor give a quick history of the piece about to be performed. Yet somehow we failed to think of having the performers wear revealing clothing as an audience-booster. I suppose I don’t equate stripper attire with classically-trained musicians.

We managed to enjoy the last of the concert; the pieces by Joplin, Dvorak and Sousa were wonderful. I just hope the kids remember some of the music and not only the crazy piano lady with the see-through shirt. What am I thinking? Of course that’s all they’ll remember – but at least they’ll remember we spent Sunday afternoons together.

Grease is the word

I love giving presents, so you’d think this time of year would be a good one for me. But it’s actually very difficult because my family has this crazy notion that we should wait until Christmas to open presents. As soon as I get a Christmas present for someone I feel compelled by something deep within me to give it immediately. I’ve actually sent a few things from Amazon straight to my Mom’s house so I won’t be tempted to give them to Sean before Christmas. And the fact that we’ve hidden a big ol’ Christmas present for the kids in the garage is killing me! Each time we go out there I’m dying to tell them where and what it is. So far I’ve resisted the urge but the closer it gets to the big day the harder it will be for me.

I celebrated a major secret-keeping Tuesday night. I got Sean tickets to see Grease at the Wharton Center. It was an early Christmas present (my favorite kind!) because the show’s playing this week. It’d be kind of a bummer for him to open the tickets for December 9 on December 25. Anyway, I actually kept the secret until we were driving to the theater. I tried to get him to ask yes or no questions so I could finally tell him but he didn’t want to know. Mark that down as just one of the bazillion ways we’re complete opposites.

He led the pit orchestra for his high school’s production of Grease and has many fond memories of the rehearsals; they began practice immediately following school and didn’t wrap up until long after dark. His mom would bring him dinner and he’d eat right at the piano. He loves musicals and I knew he’d love reliving some of his glory days, so off we went.

Well, Wicked it wasn’t (really, what is?) but it was fun. Sean had a great time and I kept the secret! Unfortunately the people sitting two rows behind us had never been to the theater because they didn’t know they were supposed to stop talking when the lights went down. People – the theater is not like watching TV in your living room. You have to be quiet. Seriously. Sean and I both asked them to hush several times but finally gave up. They talked all the way through the curtain call. Unreal.

Sean walked out singing the songs and reminiscing. He had great stories about practices and how the Danny in their production got the role - seems he was sleeping with the drama teacher… Sean's sister was Jan and he recalled looking up at her from the pit, being amazed that his little sister sounded so good (and still does, for that matter).

Except for the culturally illiterate sitting behind us we had a wonderful time. Now if I can just hold my tongue for 15 more days… I don’t know if I’ll make it!

Taylor Hicks of American Idol played the role of Teen Angel. He sang well and seemed downright adorable, but couldn't hold a candle to the other guys in the cast. Why in the world don't some of the folks from Broadway try out for AI? Those people can flat sing.