Thanks, I Needed That

I woke up at 6:30 this morning and got up for an hour or so. Ate some breakfast and watched "The Beautiful World of Ugly Betty" that I had TiVo'd on Thursday night. What fun to see my dear friend Jill Becker's gorgeous and fabulously talented daughter, Veronica, on national television. Veronica is one of the writers on Ugly Betty, and we-the-friends-of-Jill are enjoying every moment of her success and rise to fame.

Then I went back to bed and slept until a little after 10:00. 10:00 o'clock! I never sleep until ten, or even nine, very rarely eight. Boy, I guess I needed that.

When I go back to sleep like that, I always have fantastical dreams. First I dreamed I installed a fountain in back of the house. Then a woman sitting next to me in the chorus told me Hector Berlioz would be at our next performance. Here's the thing. Berlioz died in 1869. I don't think he'll be at the matinee tomorrow.

The performance last night went well. Not fabulous, but well. George tends to dig deep inside himself at the beginning of each movement and see if he can find a tempo he's never used before for that movement, and then spring it on us. He pulled that stunt a couple of times last night, to less than stellar results.

There's one passage in the Paulus that gives us a bit of a problem. (There's more than one passage that gives us problems, but I digress.) This particular passage is three measures: the first two measures are 3/2, and the third measure is 3/4. The men sing half notes in the two identical 3/2 measures (A-Bflat-C "I am so") then the same notes and words in the third measure, only quarter notes. The women have a little quarter and half note thing going on an octave above the men, then join them in the 3/4 measure. Well, one with any musical training would think the quarter notes would be twice as fast as the half notes — that we could simply subdivide the half notes and determine the speed of the quarter notes. Right? Wrong! George, of his own volition (okay, he's the boss), picks a random speed for the quarter note measure that is unrelated to the half notes. Only once — in Thursday night's performance — did he conduct the quarter note measure in a tempo that was related to the half note measures.

We'll see what surprise he springs on us tomorrow.

And here's a funny music-is-a-small-world anecdote. Parking at the music hall is horrible this week, so people are arriving very early for concerts just to be able to find a parking place within walking distance of the hall. When I walked into the green room last night at 6:30 for a 7:30 call, there was a man playing the piano. One other person, Lois Manowitz, who sits next to me, was in the room, sitting and enjoying some fabulous Chopin or Beethoven or something this man was playing. (I ran out to dish with my friend Terry; I didn't pay attention to the piece or the composer, just noticed that it was very skillfully and musically played.)

When I came back into the room at 7:20, the man was still playing and the room was filled with chorus members. A moment later the piece ended and the chorus applauded him. A couple of us called out "Who are you?" He said, "I'm with Doc." Well, our director is Dr. Bruce Chamberlain and many of the students in the chorus call Bruce "Doc." That wasn't what this man meant. He meant Doc Severinsen, who is performing with the Symphony tonight in the Pops Special. But Lois wouldn't let it go at that. She said, "But what's your name?" The guy turned and looked at her, wondering what her deal was. He replied, "I'm Bif [something]. I just came over to warm up a little. I didn't know anyone would be in this room." Lois responded, "Did you go to such-and-such high school in East Plainfield, New Jersey?" And he just stared at her. She continued, "What's your real name? Tom, right?"

What a hoot. Lois and this guy had gone to high school together, she had known his brothers, they had lived a couple of blocks apart on the same street in New Jersey. Lois moved out here a year ago and is CEO of Jewish Family & Children's Service of Southern Arizona. She sat watching this guy play and thought he looked very familiar.

Isn't music a wonderful, magical, small world?