Childhood Development gig/Caramoor

Friday: Up at 5:07 AM. Shower, and morning practices. Packed car. Fed cats. Took out garbage, and was on the road by about 7:20. Stopped at the donut shop and got a bagel and coffee and a danish, which I ate while driving down 93. The traffic was not bad at all, and I made good time. Somewhere north of Providence on 95, Victor passed me with a wave. Arrived at the G-Tech Early Childhood Development Center (aka day-care) a little before 9.

Victor and Terry were already there. Martin arrived slightly thereafter, and Alex not much after that. We hauled speakers and gear in, and set up in their main space. The front automatic sliding door was being obstinate. I said hello to a lonely goldfish in a small dirty tank. At the back of the room, on a riser, stood a tall-as-a-man paisley Mr Potato Head. We got our sounds going. My guitar sounds quite a bit better after my treatment of last night. We used the teacher's conference room as a green room. Circled up, then went on right at 10.

The kids were still getting seated (cross-legged on the floor). Age range, I'd say about 3 to 7. Victor did some fussing with our mix as we played an opening circulation. The gremlins had crawled into Alex's guitar. We played a good set, running though much of our available material (Third Relation, Asturias, Eye of the Needle, star circulation, Moving Force, Aspiration, embroidery etc) The bass line in Moving Force was a mess, but otherwise things went pretty well. The kids bounced around like Mexican jumping beans, and were very appreciative.

Afterwards, after our concluding circle in the green room, we loaded back up. I asked Martin where to go for some pizza. He told me about a place called Venus Pizza. I commented that this would be a dangerous name, if one was inclined to spoonerisms. After saying bye to all, I drove off, and found the Venus Pizza... but was sorely disappointed that it was closed for the summer. Next to Venus Pizza, a woman sitting outside a neglected nicknack store called The Briar Patch looked disappointed, but not surprised, when I sped away. Found another pizza place, but they had no slices. Settled for a spinach pie and some energy drinks at the convenience store. Uneventful drive down to my mom's, hitting some traffic in New Haven. Interesting interview with Dan Akroyd on Fresh Air.

Arrived at my mom's around 1:30 PM. She was just getting in the shower. I took a bit of a nap. Around 2 we took a drive out to her internist's office. She introduced me to him. She and I sat around for a while in the waiting room chatting. I watched a salesman from a drug company ply his trade. My mom had some blood drawn. We stopped for gas, and I bought us some refreshments. We drove a few towns over and picked up some food for a picnic planned for this evening: Middle Eastern yummies. The people at the restaurant (that does most of its business in catering) were very friendly, and said that almost everything was cooked in a kitchen under the store-front. We drove back home on side-roads, since we'd noticed the highway was crawling. MB called on the cell to say she was going to be on the 5:20 train out of NYC. Back at my mom's place, she transferred our goodies to picnic totes. I played some guitar, working on our JSB piece, Bicycling and some of my compositions. A little after 5 we headed out to pick up MB. Yay!

We were going to head straight off to our concert, but MB wanted to stop off at home. I rested my eyes, sitting on the couch, while she took a shower. Then, off to Caramoor, in NY state. This drive was a trip back in time for me, passing through many old haunts of my teenage years. We got a little lost, Mapquest letting us down. Eventually found our way to the place. Automatically operated motors swung open the chain-link gate, and we almost lost fillings driving over the grooved pavement just beyond.

Some kids helped us park (college freshman probably). We found our way over to the picnic area, and had quite a lovely feast, sitting on a wooden bench, with our blanket spread as a table cloth. At 7:30 we walked to the venue entrance and picked up our tickets. A little more wandering around, looking at some plantings around a large oriental "dove coat" fountain. We joined the line to be seated. They wouldn't let the expensive coffee drink we'd just purchased into the courtyard. Finally we were seated. A lovely medieval looking courtyard, evocative of a Spanish monastery, large red tasseled awnings, many folding chairs. On stage, a technician tuned a harpsichord, and a stage-hand lit large white candles on tall stands. The program of the evening began with a selection of JSB Brandenburgs. Violin, Viola, Cello (three each), plus one double bass and a harpsichordist. Young players, but obviously very talented, and enthusiastic. They had added some nice touches, passing phrases around and through the ensemble, for example. Lightening flashed in the distance, then closer. Thunder rumbled. They concluded the JSB portion of the program as the first raindrops were falling. The program was paused, and we were told that they were going to wait and see what happened with the weather. We moved in under the overhang formed by one of the side paths along the courtyard. The rain became torrential, with wind whipping the sheeting water, blowing it under the shelters where the audience were now huddled, accompanied by great flashes of lightening, and shortly following booming of thunder. Quite a spectacle. MB entertained my mom and me, showing us some dance moves she'd learned at the workshop in NYC, including a very fun handkerchief dance.

After a time, the rain subsided. They announced the concert would be moved to the larger tented theater. The audience slowly began migrating in that direction. We found very good seats in the new space, and after awhile, the concert picked up where it had left off. Next up was a work (Last Round) by a young Argentinean composer (Oswaldo Golijov), that was an homage to Piazzolla. Very good. Some of these young players have yet to learn that less is more when it comes to body language. One in particular, a cellist in a red dress, telegraphed her interpretation of the emotion of every line with her madly swaying body, grimacing face, arched (or furrowed) eyebrows, and her impassioned tossing around of the head. I had to close my eyes several times, because it was such a distraction from the music. But, her playing was absolutely brilliant, and so, taken as a whole, it was easy to forgive her, the passions of youth. The last piece was Mendelssohn (String octet in E-flat Maj). The first violinists bearing seemed to say that he had every faith in the purity and efficacy of the elixir, distilled by the composer, and brought to life by the bow of his instrument. It could have been Popeye's sales pitch for spinach, for example. I dozed a bit in the middle, but the last movement in particular was fiery and enjoyable.

We took a short walk around. The concert went into "overtime" (a less structured portion of the evening, with smaller ensembles). The first piece was a virtuosic duo between the first violinist and the aforementioned cellist. It was a re-composing of themes from Handel's messiah, I believe. Quite amazing. Such lightness and speed... and very enjoyable uses of advanced violin techniques (playing close to the bridge squeeky harmonics, etc). Next, a Theremin  piece. The announcer said something about a Russian device named the ANS (after Scriabin). They played some prerecorded electronic twitterings, but the Theremin was having technical problems and so that portion of the performance was abandoned. Next, a string trio took on some Dvorak's miniatures. The violist seemed to not like playing near the Theremin, thinking perhaps it would explode or give off radiation if he turned his back on it. We left after this piece.

My mom would have sent us off in the wrong direction, but I managed to get us home, despite being quite sleepy by this point. Set up our bedding situation, and after a brief evening sitting, to bed.