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Dan thinks we're cultured; two shows in two nights! Well, I win, then. I went to the Roux studio piano recital right after voice studio let out. Well, I should explain how superlative that was, before I explain the excellence of the rest of it.
First of all, Mike sounded... like a singer! And he's got the Poulenc Banalites and Tom to work with, which are French heaven with smoking. And then Dan, with this crazy dark-horse Ernest Charles song Dr. Farwell gave him that turns out was played at Tom's wedding and makes hime cry. Well, I didn't see him crying, but I was trying not to actually sob by the third line. It was only half the fault of the actual song:
When I have sung my songs to you,
I'll sing no more.
'Twould be a sacrilege to sing
At another door.
We've worked so hard to hold our dreams,
Just you and I.
I could not share them all again—
I'd rather die
With just the thought that I had loved so
well, so true,
That I could never sing again,
Except to you.
It was also the singing. Dan's got this safety, hearthfire-in-cold-weather, hug-when-you-really-need it quality to his voice that this song emphasized exquisitely. I could tell he hadn't really made a guts-deep connection with the text yet, but that's okay because I had, and I was dripping (quietly) like a leaky faucet. I wasn't exactly subtle about wiping the salt off my face, but then Tom got off on a rollercoaster of oratory about not letting music school suck the bloody life out of us and turning us into singers. And then John had this gorgeous and also obscure song with lovely clarity and line that surpassed most of what I've heard from him. And then I sang Seligkeit, having skipped Latin to practice for an hour before studio. That was the best I've ever felt about my performance in studio class. Or, really, ever. Tom made a point of my noticing that Eric called my Gs glorious, and then told me what I was doing right, and worked with me long enough that I didn't feel like I must be doing something hopelessly and irreversibly wrong because he let me off without fixing anything. I could actually tell what I was doing, and it was good. Like, not only good, but better than it had been before.
And then... and then...
Ben's studio recital. Some freshman prodigy played Liszt's first concerto like a living god, and Scott! Scott! was his orchestra on the second piano. And Ben's turn came, on Tchaik 1. Again with Scott. It was emotionally exhausting for me, so I have no idea how beat Ben must be. It was stupendous. But the recital ended with a grad student playing the Rach Paganini variations, again with Scott as the orchestra of one. The dam having been breached during my studio class, the 18th variation broke it down completely, and I cried at the inversion like the heartbreaker it is. I sobbed. And missed Reggie intensely. For the rest of the variations, which were comparably awesomely played.
After meeting Ben backstage to congratulate him (and for me to be a swooning Scott fan), Stephan took me and Ben and Bryan to Demeris (mm, beef) and made it back just in time for them to park at Shepherd to see the orchestra concert, and me to run all the way to Jones to see Closer. Which was, once again as Baby was last night, a show made awesome by the fact that the only people I knew were the best by far. Trevor's got some mad acting skillz, and I commend him for his British accent chops. He most definitely stole the show in the best way possible.
He couldn't hang out, so Dan and I went back to Sid somewhat morosely to study for the history test. We got all the listenings combined with relevant information; essays are yet to do, but it was time to be done by 12:30. So he went to take me home, but we ended up grabbing Parker and meeting Burfy at Mai's, from which I just got home. It's such a great feeling to still be seeing Bat Boy people in small reunions occasionally. They still exist, and they're just as cool as I remember (you never know, from the perspective of a few weeks).
And tomorrow (I guess it's today now) I have a lesson, at which I may be as good as I was in studio. And Sean's coming! Ee. Lesson with a pianist!
I have sufficiently reversed my somewhat melancholy mood in order to go to sleep.
First of all, Mike sounded... like a singer! And he's got the Poulenc Banalites and Tom to work with, which are French heaven with smoking. And then Dan, with this crazy dark-horse Ernest Charles song Dr. Farwell gave him that turns out was played at Tom's wedding and makes hime cry. Well, I didn't see him crying, but I was trying not to actually sob by the third line. It was only half the fault of the actual song:
When I have sung my songs to you,
I'll sing no more.
'Twould be a sacrilege to sing
At another door.
We've worked so hard to hold our dreams,
Just you and I.
I could not share them all again—
I'd rather die
With just the thought that I had loved so
well, so true,
That I could never sing again,
Except to you.
It was also the singing. Dan's got this safety, hearthfire-in-cold-weather, hug-when-you-really-need it quality to his voice that this song emphasized exquisitely. I could tell he hadn't really made a guts-deep connection with the text yet, but that's okay because I had, and I was dripping (quietly) like a leaky faucet. I wasn't exactly subtle about wiping the salt off my face, but then Tom got off on a rollercoaster of oratory about not letting music school suck the bloody life out of us and turning us into singers. And then John had this gorgeous and also obscure song with lovely clarity and line that surpassed most of what I've heard from him. And then I sang Seligkeit, having skipped Latin to practice for an hour before studio. That was the best I've ever felt about my performance in studio class. Or, really, ever. Tom made a point of my noticing that Eric called my Gs glorious, and then told me what I was doing right, and worked with me long enough that I didn't feel like I must be doing something hopelessly and irreversibly wrong because he let me off without fixing anything. I could actually tell what I was doing, and it was good. Like, not only good, but better than it had been before.
And then... and then...
Ben's studio recital. Some freshman prodigy played Liszt's first concerto like a living god, and Scott! Scott! was his orchestra on the second piano. And Ben's turn came, on Tchaik 1. Again with Scott. It was emotionally exhausting for me, so I have no idea how beat Ben must be. It was stupendous. But the recital ended with a grad student playing the Rach Paganini variations, again with Scott as the orchestra of one. The dam having been breached during my studio class, the 18th variation broke it down completely, and I cried at the inversion like the heartbreaker it is. I sobbed. And missed Reggie intensely. For the rest of the variations, which were comparably awesomely played.
After meeting Ben backstage to congratulate him (and for me to be a swooning Scott fan), Stephan took me and Ben and Bryan to Demeris (mm, beef) and made it back just in time for them to park at Shepherd to see the orchestra concert, and me to run all the way to Jones to see Closer. Which was, once again as Baby was last night, a show made awesome by the fact that the only people I knew were the best by far. Trevor's got some mad acting skillz, and I commend him for his British accent chops. He most definitely stole the show in the best way possible.
He couldn't hang out, so Dan and I went back to Sid somewhat morosely to study for the history test. We got all the listenings combined with relevant information; essays are yet to do, but it was time to be done by 12:30. So he went to take me home, but we ended up grabbing Parker and meeting Burfy at Mai's, from which I just got home. It's such a great feeling to still be seeing Bat Boy people in small reunions occasionally. They still exist, and they're just as cool as I remember (you never know, from the perspective of a few weeks).
And tomorrow (I guess it's today now) I have a lesson, at which I may be as good as I was in studio. And Sean's coming! Ee. Lesson with a pianist!
I have sufficiently reversed my somewhat melancholy mood in order to go to sleep.
