Two Disparate Music Experiences

Thursday
First up was a movie theater viewing of “Rush: Time Stand Still” which feels like a sequel to their “Beyond the Lighted Stage” documentary. This one ostensively covers their R40 tour, billed as their last one ever, but includes plenty of reminiscing about the old days, such as their time on the road with Kiss in the 70s, as well as the various vehicles they used to get around the country when they were playing 250 gigs a year.
Behind the scenes videos of people you like—not just their music, but as human beings—are always fun because they come across as “just like us.” Alex in particular is his usual hilarious self, but Geddy and Neil both get to show their funny side too. The best part for me was the first-person video from Neil’s motorcycle; over the years there’s been plenty of photographs, but never vids.
So while this wasn’t nearly as in-depth as “Lighted Stage,” that’s okay, it wasn’t meant to be. Think of it as an author adding a surprise chapter at the end of a book you loved.
Topped it off with a half hour walk home in the dark, something I haven’t been able to enjoy in a while. Just cool enough to feel like autumn. . .

Saturday
Going full disparate from Rush, Saturday featured a live performance of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, bookended by Copland’s Appalachian Spring Suite and Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. This being my second time at this Pasadena Symphony series—the first time I didn’t know where the Ambassador Auditorium and got there way early—I wasn’t expecting anything as good as that first one, with the lovely Elena Urioste soloing on what’s probably my fave classical work, Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, but on the other hand I’ll listen to the Rhapsody anytime anywhere. As a matter of fact I tweeted: “If someone challenged me to listen to Rhapsody In Blue for 24 hours straight, I would take them up on it.” I also tweeted: “The start of Appalachian Spring always reminds me of sunrise on a misty morn,” which pretty much encapsulates how I feel about that work. Scheherazade didn’t do as much for me this time, other than the familiar parts, of course, but this day was about Rhapsody anyway.
I hadn’t given much thought as to who would be the piano soloist, so I was a bit surprised when conductor David Lockington introduced him as a fifteen-year-old who was as good on the violin as the piano. Ray Ushikubo indeed proved he was talented as well as a teen, for he brought a lot of drama and bombastic movement to the piano. . . although a lot of pianists older than him overdo it as well.
The fun part about this piece is in identifying the parts Gershwin mentioned inspired him, like being on a train or the bustle of traffic. The clarinet glissando that starts things off didn’t give me chills like it usually does, but the horns were extra rude to make up for it. This is the third time I’ve seen Rhapsody live in the past couple of years, but it’s tough to say which is better or more fun. This was the smallest orchestra I’ve seen performing it, but then Gershwin originally wrote it that way, and it didn’t suffer from lack of sound. The point is, this was well worth the walk in the surprisingly hot sun and the price of admission, though the fact that I have to take the elevator to get to the restrooms and water fountain got old in a hurry. . . though I did get to flirt with a pretty rainbow-dress-wearing frizzy redhead in the lobby beforehand, so all good. . .

Coming up:
Continuing the disparate theme, this Thursday gives us—me—what I’ve been waiting for ever since I treated myself to fifth row tickets and the meet-and-greet special: Lindsey Stirling!

;o)

Advertisements

Tell me what you think I need to know. . .

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s