Two Concerts, Two Nights
You may notice that I rarely write about concerts here. Plays are part of our regular life, and visual art, but not as much music. I was raised with very little music, in fact, which is why I've found it so important for Beatrix to have it (and a shout out to my aunt Jan, who started that early).
Last night, as part of a team event for my incredible client Literacy Matters, we had a group dinner wand then went to see Carbon Leaf at the Fine Line. You may not know the name, but you know at least one of their songs "Life a life less ordinary, live a life extraordinary...."
We met the band before hand and they gave a special shout out to Literacy Matters fro the stage. It was a fun concert, and nice to be out, in a club, which is not something we ordinarily do; I think our last concert together was Sia, also at the Fine Line, about a decade ago...
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Tonight, though, topped it, when we went to see Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Band play at Orchestra Hall. It was Beatrix's first jazz concert, and I'm embarrassed to say, the first time I had been there since the renovation (I told you, I don't get to music as such, I've probably been to Orchestra Hall only 20 times or so in my life).
There are a few special stories behind their one. The first is that we got the tickets because Patrick has a dear friend Randy, whose daughter Kathleen is the tour manager. She got us amazing seats, and the concert was extraordinary. People always give you the side-eye when you bring child to a concert like this, but at intermission everyone around us commented about how much they could see she was enjoying it — because, of course, what's not to enjoy?
Kathleen had us on the stage door list, and so afterwards we went down and got a chance to meet Wynton Marsalis himself. There's a family legend that Patrick's grandmother taught Wynton's dad, Ellis, to read music, and upon looking at a picture of the two of them — and name-dropping, as I have learned New Orleanians love to do — Mr. Marsalis thought that story was probably true.
The most amazing part to me, though, was when he kept looking t Beatrix, and asked her if she played anything. When she replied she played violin, piano, and a little guitar, he said he could tell that she had a special sense about her, and that he thought she would grow up to write music. Then he advised us to root her in true folk music, rather than pop, because that's where the true roots and power were. then he told Beatrix that he looked forward to hearing her music someday.
And when you get that kind of advice, you take it to heart.
Last night, as part of a team event for my incredible client Literacy Matters, we had a group dinner wand then went to see Carbon Leaf at the Fine Line. You may not know the name, but you know at least one of their songs "Life a life less ordinary, live a life extraordinary...."
We met the band before hand and they gave a special shout out to Literacy Matters fro the stage. It was a fun concert, and nice to be out, in a club, which is not something we ordinarily do; I think our last concert together was Sia, also at the Fine Line, about a decade ago...
---
Tonight, though, topped it, when we went to see Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Band play at Orchestra Hall. It was Beatrix's first jazz concert, and I'm embarrassed to say, the first time I had been there since the renovation (I told you, I don't get to music as such, I've probably been to Orchestra Hall only 20 times or so in my life).
There are a few special stories behind their one. The first is that we got the tickets because Patrick has a dear friend Randy, whose daughter Kathleen is the tour manager. She got us amazing seats, and the concert was extraordinary. People always give you the side-eye when you bring child to a concert like this, but at intermission everyone around us commented about how much they could see she was enjoying it — because, of course, what's not to enjoy?
Kathleen had us on the stage door list, and so afterwards we went down and got a chance to meet Wynton Marsalis himself. There's a family legend that Patrick's grandmother taught Wynton's dad, Ellis, to read music, and upon looking at a picture of the two of them — and name-dropping, as I have learned New Orleanians love to do — Mr. Marsalis thought that story was probably true.
The most amazing part to me, though, was when he kept looking t Beatrix, and asked her if she played anything. When she replied she played violin, piano, and a little guitar, he said he could tell that she had a special sense about her, and that he thought she would grow up to write music. Then he advised us to root her in true folk music, rather than pop, because that's where the true roots and power were. then he told Beatrix that he looked forward to hearing her music someday.
And when you get that kind of advice, you take it to heart.
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