Reverie

Last night Jeff and I attended a concert that featured Bolero by Maurice Ravel. For those of you unfamiliar with this piece, it can be described as a tone color study of the orchestra. Ravel wrote a very simple melody which he set over and over again using each member of the winds in turn. After focusing on them individually, he mixes them together with the strings in several different combinations before reaching the exciting climax. Another less generous way of describing this piece is 16 minutes of the same thing over and over and over and over. I happen to like it.

Anyway, hearing the piece performed last night reminded me of the last time I heard this piece which was while I was performing it in Lyon, France this past March. We were in a beautiful 18th-century building, by far the most stunning room I have ever performed in. I took this photo after our rehearsal that morning. For the concert, the hall was standing room only.

What made this concert so memorable (in addition to the amazing venue) was the absolute joy of performing with our French colleagues. I have never heard a horn sound the way it did that week in France; the bassoon became an instrument of great beauty and richness. It was truly an immense pleasure to play with them.

I think the reason it was so easy to perform with them was also the worst part: it was a temporary experience. We were together for one week, rehearsing and performing, and then we knew it would be over. It lacked that sense of competitive unease that can lurk in the back of one's mind about who is playing what part and who got what gig last week and so on. It was so much easier to focus on the music, even when most of the direction coming from the podium was in a language I couldn't understand.

I know that when people speak of a 'soul mate', they are generally referring to their spouse or partner, but I believe there is also a space in there for a friend who all at once understands you, who connects with you on a level that is immediate and real. The kind of friend Anne of Green Gables (Anne is such a classic) called her bosom friend. I had that in France and it was magnificent.

And I miss her.

So as we were sitting there at the concert last night listening to Ravel, my mind went back to France, where everything was intoxicating: the food, the wine, the music, and the friends.