Chapter Nineteen - What Dreams Are Made Of
September 28, 2013 - Aratani Theatre, Little Tokyo – The Dream Concert - Intermission.
I was sitting backstage, deciding on which pair of socks to wear for the second half. No shoes.
I happen to hear applause from the audience.
Wait, that is for the concertmaster right? The orchestra still has to tune.
“No they’re tuned. The conductor is out there,” says the piccolo player who is sitting out this number.
WHAT???!!!!
I race to pull on my shoes and socks. Grab my nearby sheet music. Run on my tiptoes from the greenroom, two-thirds of the way around backstage, to the wing I am supposed to enter from. I tear the mic from the stagehand’s grip and dash on stage.
Fortunately, the conductor, Daniel, had forgotten to change from his tux into a matching long sleeve black shirt with a custom scarf for the second half, allowing me to improv, “You knew about the costume change, right?”
Laughter and applause. And we were off.
The Aratani had a brand new stage manager direct from the LA Opera. She was stationed off stage left with Daniel. I was to enter from stage right. With an opera background, she was accustomed to calling all musicians to the stage and everyone was supposed to take places. I’m from a theatre background, where the stage manager is supposed to check with the, quote, talent... Me.
Never happened.
Fortunately, we had opened the first act with my being late and Daniel frantically dialing his cell phone trying to find me in the middle of the piece. He did the same thing to start the second half, and everyone thought it was part of the show. It got a big laugh, and the concert went on.
The result of this was, I didn’t have time to bring the custom designed scarves on stage that Jessica Campion of Studio eQ had made for the third of my performances in a row.
I was supposed to give a scarf to each of the two girls playing the rain sticks, Julia and Claire, and Daniel was supposed to wear one. It did, however, make me stand out very well against the orchestra.
Jess’s amazing work has become a part of my signature at every show dating back to “Closer Than Ever”.
Rewind eighteen months. One week after the recital at Colburn.
I bumped into Heewon and excitedly told her my grand plans for my next performance.
She said no.
I wanted to actually play the Rachmaninov “Rhapsody on a Theme” and learn Gershwin’s “Concerto in F”.
She asked why.
And as I went into my reasoning, she stopped listening.
She suggested I pick up a Mozart and a Bach and continue to develop my playing technique that had suffered from the many years of not properly practicing.
Wait, many years of plain not practicing. Mozart and Bach?
This was not like her.
Heewon was also concerned that debuting two huge pieces I hadn’t performed before on the same program might not be the best idea I’ve ever had.
Weeks later, though, she introduced me to Daniel, the conductor of the Dream Orchestra. The problem with my piece selection, she told me then, was the concerti needed to be performed with an orchestra, not a second piano, and I should still consider playing only one.
After three weeks of stubbornly practicing the Rachmaninov and the Gershwin, I realized I really only had time to be studying the Rachmaninov.
I would, of course, revisit “Totentanz” and also add some original compositions on the program.
I proposed this plan to Heewon and got the stamp of approval.
The next time I tell you I’m going to produce, perform two concerti, and compose several numbers for one big concert, your immediate reaction needs to be “NO!” Then pummel me in the face when I continue to talk about the idea.
That is not true. The next time you decide to do something that is going to take a year out of your life, know you’re going to be living and breathing it every second. Do it and commit!
No film, theatre, or previous music project came close to the magnitude of this show. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life and my biggest accomplishment prior to delving into Inception.
