I think I find out about the most amazing things completely by accident. The concert I just went to on Wednesday, called Danu, was absolutely incredible, and I found it completely by accident. I actually went about a month ago to go find tickets for Beauty and the Beast (which was absolutely incredible, might I add) and I saw a pamphlet in one of the bins about a "Christmas in Ireland" special done by a group called "Danu". Of course, this immediately caught my interest, seeing as I'm part Irish and LOVE anything to do with Irish culture and music. I decided to pick up a pamphlet and maybe, if I had time in the coming month, buy tickets for the event.
So a month passes and here comes the end of the semester. I'm bogged down with projects and papers and all manner of end-of-the-year paraphernalia. I'm stressed and tired and have all the symptoms associated with finals. I'm thinking I need a break here soon or I'm going to die when I look up on my bulletin board and discover the pamphlet half hidden behind written reminders and deadline dates. I stopped, deliberated my schedule for a bit, and then decided that it would be in the best interest of me and my mental health if I took the night off on Wednesday, so I immediately went to Emens and got myself a ticket.
Fast forward to Wednesday night. I walk in with my roommate and two other friends and realized that there are about 20 people here so far....and it's 7:20. The show starts at 7:30. Needless to say, it was not the most encouraging sight.
We made our way down to the seats and sit, idly chit chatting until the band appears on the stage. When the lights finally dim and and stage lights up, the group walks out on stage to their various stations, looking a lot smaller than I had anticipated.
When they finally get all settled and the lead singer goes up to the mike, I hold my breath, waiting for the worst. I'd been to many concerts where the vocals for a crowd this size were....less than substantial. However, the minute she opens her mouth, I'm instantly transported across the sea to the tiny island of Ireland, swept away by her easy grace and beautiful tone. The instrumentals in the background blended perfectly with each other and they rose to create the most beautiful of music. After she finished her first song, I clapped vigorously, rethinking how glad I was that I had taken the night off.
The rest of the evening consisted of a mix of classic Irish Christmas songs and Irish jigs (my favorites) and they finished off the night with my personal favorite, the Parting Glass. I stood and gave the band a standing ovation, clapping until my hands hurt.
As we gathered up our stuff and prepared to leave, I thought back to my week and all the stress it had contained. After that night, I felt like the outlook on my week was going to vastly improve, for the concert had reminded me that this was season for joy and for festivities, not one for stress and worry. As we were walking back to the dorms, a thought crossed my mind, and it made me smile to myself.
After that concert, all I have to say is one thing....
I'm proud to be Irish.
Cultural Event Report NUMERO UNO!
9/10/11
About two weeks ago, I was walking back to my dorm after an intense Planning 100 session (not really, but it gave me an excuse to get a Starbucks Chai). I was heading over to Woodworth Commons, happily anticipating the delicious creaminess of a hot chai tea latte, when I passed by the banner advertisements in front of Emen's Auditorium. I glanced up at it like I do every time I walk past there, but this time a name happened to catch my eye: Phil Keaggy. For some reason or other, fate or something else entirely, I felt a really weird need to find out more about this guy. So I skipped the chai altogether (I mean, you only need so many in a week, right?) and headed straight for Park, briskly walking up to my room. I plunked myself down in front of my laptop and searched "Phil Keaggy" on youtube. Lo and behold, a million videos popped up of the guy and I clicked on the first one, hoping it was the right one.
The link lead me to a video of a guy just going to town on this guitar. Instantly I was enthralled by what I heard, hanging on to his every note and finger pluck, thinking, "I have GOT to see this guy live." An hour and a piano lesson later, I was in possession of a "golden ticket" to see Mr. Keaggy. I clutched it to my chest excitedly, eagerly memorizing the date and the time, making sure I WOULD NOT forget any of it.
Fast forward a week, and I find myself finding a seat in the back of Pruis Hall, self-conscience of my lack of friends. Still squirming uncomfortably, I looked up as an...unremarkable man of 60-ish years walked onto the stage only holding a guitar. I frowned. I had been expecting maybe some backup and a little more "Pazazz" than what was shown to me on the stage right now. Great, I think to myself as he tunes and adjusts. I came by myself just to see some old guy strum some chords.
"Well hello there," he says into the mike, his voice higher than i expected. He is greeted by hoots and whistles and cheers from the audience, a reaction I was not anticipating. "Whoooo! Alright got a great audience tonight! How about we get started!" More cheers from the crowd as he strums a chord on his guitar, picking his strings and swaying his head like a true guitarist does. Now, don't get me wrong, being a guitar player, I really appreciate good guitar playing. But that's just it. It was good. It wasn't great or fantastic or groundshaking. It was...good. I plop my head into my hand, hoping this concert doesn't take long so I can get back to the studio and finish my sketch.
He plays a couple more songs and he gets more cheers from the crowd, me clapping along politely whenever he finishes a song. I'm just gathering up my stuff to get ready to leave, thinking I can just sneak out the back way, when a sound stops me. I pause, halfway between sitting and standing, what sounds like a violin gluing me to my seat. I train my eyes back on the stage and see that he has attached a device to the hole of his guitar, making it play like a violin. The song is so yearning and caressing that I sit back down, hard, my gaze never wavering from the stage.
He continues to play some more, and then does something amazing. He presses his foot onto a button on a small device by his feet and I realize that he is playing a new riff while the one he was just playing is being replayed in a loop by the small machine. Then he adds another layer. And another. The next layer he treats his guitar like a drum and adds a beat to the song. Another layer he brings out a tiny set of bells and chimes them into the loop. He adds another riff and still another! The sound finally reaches such a cacophony of beauty and zealous joy that tears spring into my eyes and without thinking about it, I'm crying. And I don't want to hide it.
He finishes up the song and receives a standing ovation, my claps and whistles adding to the applause. As I duck to wipe the tears from my face, I catch a glimpse of the man next to me and realize he's doing the same thing! I realized as I look around that I am not the only soul he touched in that room.
He finished up the concert and as we all stood to give him his final applause, I smiled. Now I knew why I had been moved to come to this concert. I've never been so moved in my life by music and it changed something in me. It was like a sweet release of all the tension and loneliness I had been feeling for the past 2 weeks. I felt closure and contentment.
12/9/11
I think I find out about the most amazing things completely by accident. The concert I just went to on Wednesday, called Danu, was absolutely incredible, and I found it completely by accident. I actually went about a month ago to go find tickets for Beauty and the Beast (which was absolutely incredible, might I add) and I saw a pamphlet in one of the bins about a "Christmas in Ireland" special done by a group called "Danu". Of course, this immediately caught my interest, seeing as I'm part Irish and LOVE anything to do with Irish culture and music. I decided to pick up a pamphlet and maybe, if I had time in the coming month, buy tickets for the event.
So a month passes and here comes the end of the semester. I'm bogged down with projects and papers and all manner of end-of-the-year paraphernalia. I'm stressed and tired and have all the symptoms associated with finals. I'm thinking I need a break here soon or I'm going to die when I look up on my bulletin board and discover the pamphlet half hidden behind written reminders and deadline dates. I stopped, deliberated my schedule for a bit, and then decided that it would be in the best interest of me and my mental health if I took the night off on Wednesday, so I immediately went to Emens and got myself a ticket.
Fast forward to Wednesday night. I walk in with my roommate and two other friends and realized that there are about 20 people here so far....and it's 7:20. The show starts at 7:30. Needless to say, it was not the most encouraging sight.
We made our way down to the seats and sit, idly chit chatting until the band appears on the stage. When the lights finally dim and and stage lights up, the group walks out on stage to their various stations, looking a lot smaller than I had anticipated.
When they finally get all settled and the lead singer goes up to the mike, I hold my breath, waiting for the worst. I'd been to many concerts where the vocals for a crowd this size were....less than substantial. However, the minute she opens her mouth, I'm instantly transported across the sea to the tiny island of Ireland, swept away by her easy grace and beautiful tone. The instrumentals in the background blended perfectly with each other and they rose to create the most beautiful of music. After she finished her first song, I clapped vigorously, rethinking how glad I was that I had taken the night off.
The rest of the evening consisted of a mix of classic Irish Christmas songs and Irish jigs (my favorites) and they finished off the night with my personal favorite, the Parting Glass. I stood and gave the band a standing ovation, clapping until my hands hurt.
As we gathered up our stuff and prepared to leave, I thought back to my week and all the stress it had contained. After that night, I felt like the outlook on my week was going to vastly improve, for the concert had reminded me that this was season for joy and for festivities, not one for stress and worry. As we were walking back to the dorms, a thought crossed my mind, and it made me smile to myself.
After that concert, all I have to say is one thing....
I'm proud to be Irish.
Cultural Event Report NUMERO UNO!
9/10/11
About two weeks ago, I was walking back to my dorm after an intense Planning 100 session (not really, but it gave me an excuse to get a Starbucks Chai). I was heading over to Woodworth Commons, happily anticipating the delicious creaminess of a hot chai tea latte, when I passed by the banner advertisements in front of Emen's Auditorium. I glanced up at it like I do every time I walk past there, but this time a name happened to catch my eye: Phil Keaggy. For some reason or other, fate or something else entirely, I felt a really weird need to find out more about this guy. So I skipped the chai altogether (I mean, you only need so many in a week, right?) and headed straight for Park, briskly walking up to my room. I plunked myself down in front of my laptop and searched "Phil Keaggy" on youtube. Lo and behold, a million videos popped up of the guy and I clicked on the first one, hoping it was the right one.
The link lead me to a video of a guy just going to town on this guitar. Instantly I was enthralled by what I heard, hanging on to his every note and finger pluck, thinking, "I have GOT to see this guy live." An hour and a piano lesson later, I was in possession of a "golden ticket" to see Mr. Keaggy. I clutched it to my chest excitedly, eagerly memorizing the date and the time, making sure I WOULD NOT forget any of it.
Fast forward a week, and I find myself finding a seat in the back of Pruis Hall, self-conscience of my lack of friends. Still squirming uncomfortably, I looked up as an...unremarkable man of 60-ish years walked onto the stage only holding a guitar. I frowned. I had been expecting maybe some backup and a little more "Pazazz" than what was shown to me on the stage right now. Great, I think to myself as he tunes and adjusts. I came by myself just to see some old guy strum some chords.
"Well hello there," he says into the mike, his voice higher than i expected. He is greeted by hoots and whistles and cheers from the audience, a reaction I was not anticipating. "Whoooo! Alright got a great audience tonight! How about we get started!" More cheers from the crowd as he strums a chord on his guitar, picking his strings and swaying his head like a true guitarist does. Now, don't get me wrong, being a guitar player, I really appreciate good guitar playing. But that's just it. It was good. It wasn't great or fantastic or groundshaking. It was...good. I plop my head into my hand, hoping this concert doesn't take long so I can get back to the studio and finish my sketch.
He plays a couple more songs and he gets more cheers from the crowd, me clapping along politely whenever he finishes a song. I'm just gathering up my stuff to get ready to leave, thinking I can just sneak out the back way, when a sound stops me. I pause, halfway between sitting and standing, what sounds like a violin gluing me to my seat. I train my eyes back on the stage and see that he has attached a device to the hole of his guitar, making it play like a violin. The song is so yearning and caressing that I sit back down, hard, my gaze never wavering from the stage.
He continues to play some more, and then does something amazing. He presses his foot onto a button on a small device by his feet and I realize that he is playing a new riff while the one he was just playing is being replayed in a loop by the small machine. Then he adds another layer. And another. The next layer he treats his guitar like a drum and adds a beat to the song. Another layer he brings out a tiny set of bells and chimes them into the loop. He adds another riff and still another! The sound finally reaches such a cacophony of beauty and zealous joy that tears spring into my eyes and without thinking about it, I'm crying. And I don't want to hide it.
He finishes up the song and receives a standing ovation, my claps and whistles adding to the applause. As I duck to wipe the tears from my face, I catch a glimpse of the man next to me and realize he's doing the same thing! I realized as I look around that I am not the only soul he touched in that room.
He finished up the concert and as we all stood to give him his final applause, I smiled. Now I knew why I had been moved to come to this concert. I've never been so moved in my life by music and it changed something in me. It was like a sweet release of all the tension and loneliness I had been feeling for the past 2 weeks. I felt closure and contentment.
I felt happy.