STORIES AND ANECDOTES of “AFTER-CONCERT TIME”
After applause and encore, there comes the “after-concert time”.
It is a strange lapse of time, a time for taking stock.
“THE LADY”
It is summer; the concert is over and it went great.
Among the people coming to greet us, a lady appears (it is an apparition, indeed). She is very tall, almost one metre eighty, slim, her silver hair up in a bun, a beige dress reaching her feet, blue sharp eyes. She’s a natural beauty.
We are talking to some members of the audience and we do not acknowledge her at once. She suddenly loomed up in front of us, she pulls a hard face, as a general visiting his troops. We are momentarily puzzled, maybe even frightened. Then she hugs us and kisses our cheeks.
«I could be your grandma», she says as if to justify her warmth.
«Orazio», she continues, «my man is a Classical music lover. We’ve been to hundreds of concerts lately. The other day, after reading about your string trio concert, he felt Mozart’s soul hover about his head and he dragged me here. Tonight I didn’t feel like listening to Classical music, I received bad news and I was in a black mood, but when I heard the first notes of “All of Me”, dear boys, you put me back on my feet», then turning to her man: «Orazio», she orders, «congratulate the boys!»
Orazio complies and he even congratulates us on Mozart’s “Turkish Rondo”. Maybe it does not come under the Classical music canon, but he appreciated our interpretation. They go away, the haughty lady like a Queen, and her man head down like a prince consort.
“THE SAME FEELING”
The instruments have been put away in their cases, the audience is leaving.
People’s clatter fades away. Now there’s only silence. From the open church doors we glimpse the starred sky. We’re going to leave when a boy comes towards us. He has got dreadlocks up on his nape, his long beard makes him look like a young wise man or an old hippie. We noticed him sitting aloof during our performance.
He says nothing at all, he comes out with us and sits on the church steps.
All of a sudden, he says: «I like Janis Joplin».
«Good», we answer curtly, since we’re a bit tired and we’d like to go home.
«Yes, I do like Janis Joplin, she moves me, she excites me», he goes on.
Without a reason, maybe a bit frustrated because he’s talking about Janis Joplin and not about our concert, or maybe because he’s a queer fish, we put down our instruments and sit next to him.
The boy goes on talking as we do not exist: «She had such a voice, such an energy coming from her soul, she sang Rock and Blues with a matchless telluric power, never heard again. She cried her desperate need to be loved and the bleak pain of loneliness with nail-biting energy and vibration. Sometimes a touching smile exploded on her face. Wanna know something? Tonight you gave me the same feeling.»
«Now, if you have four euros to spare, I wanna buy your record.»
We gave him the money, because we’ve never had a review like that.