One of the best things about living in Portland is Anne the pianist in my little world-domination duo, and another is coffee. Today we had the pleasure of combining both.
Anne's guy Howard had a photography show opening at Dancing Beans Coffee so we went over and played a little set. We did our Lyle Lovett cover, some Carmen, of course bits of Bartok and Chopin, Cole Porter, Clarke and Debussy. I want to find a wider mix, but the legal aspects of adapting folks' tunes to our needs can be tricky. Too bad it's not like the visual arts where you are allowed to appropriate and recreate and such. Sigh.
Anyway, last night I had a dream about this gig. Wait! Don't gag yet- it's not one of those blog posts, I promise. In my dream, Karlos Calmar was the only guest at the coffee shop. He's the conductor of the Oregon Symphony and if he did walk in it would be awkward and audition-y, I just know it. It was kind of a nightmare. I remember him smiling thinly over a very small espresso.
Today he did not show up. However, the guy who played concertmaster of the symphony for, like, a gazillion years did. He seemed nice and claims to have liked my playing, so, phew. I was oddly unnervous, because what's the point of getting nervous in the middle of a set?
I did commit a felony bit of stupidity when he asked what instrument I play. Please remember I'm pregnant. I said mostly viola, but I teach violin too. He was kind enough to laugh and clarify that he meant, OF COURSE, which maker. Ha. Haha.
Well, I play tweedle dee some days and tweedle dum t'others. Violists.
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