Tag: concerts

Weekend viewing

In preparation for Tuesday’s concert by one of those Queen tribute bands, I re-watched my Queen Live at Wembley DVD, otherwise know as The Last Concert Ever by the Original Four Members of Queen.

Talk about going out on top. This late in their career, it’s just wall-to-wall hits… so many they can’t include them all, since they also want to include some surprises as well. It’s the end of a long tour, so the set is well-honed; they sound fantastic. The massive crowd is adoring and lively.

Most awe-inspiring: The part where Freddie does these solo gymnastics with his voice, teasing around his highest register, demonstrating why he’s the best rock singer ever. Then followed by Brian May pyrotechnics on guitar. Then “Brighton Rock.”

Most fun: When all four members of the band gather at the front of the stage and swing through a medley of early rock classics: “(You’re so Square) Baby I Don’t Care”, “Hello Mary Lou (Goodbye Heart)”, “Tutti Frutti”, and “Gimme Some Lovin’”. Then BoRhap.

Most heartwarming: The crowd singalong during “Love of My Life”. I love the British fans—unlike the North Americans, they know all the Queen songs, not just the greatest hits.

Most chilling: Freddie, the only man in the room with an inkling that this might be the band’s last concert ever (he hadn’t yet told his band mates of his HIV-positive status), explaining how rumors of Queen’s breakup are highly exaggerated, and that the band is going to be together “until we fucking well die—I’m sure of it!” Then launching into “Who Wants to Live Forever?”.

And then for something completely different…

Jean and I watched Lisztomania, director Ken Russel’s 1976 or so film, very loosely based on the life of pianist and composer Franz Liszt. Definitely one of the weirdest movies I’ve ever seen. It starts as a kind musical comedy-romance, then gradually becomes this sort of gothic horror movie with vampires and demons, and then there’s kind of a bit with war and Nazis, and finally there’s a space ship. And some singing.

It’s hard to believe this thing was ever made, because it’s not some B movie thing. It’s a high-budget picture with cinematographers and famous people in it. Must have been some really good drugs in the 1970s. And so, while it’s certainly not a good movie, it’s definitely an interesting failure.

Most awe-inspiring: Awe-inspiring? Geez, I don’t know. When Listz sprouts a giant penis for the four ladies to ride? When Richard Wagner sprouts vampire teeth and drinks Listz’s blood? The demon-worshiping scene with all the naked girls and the candles? So many options…

Most fun: The opening scene really is hoot. Liszt and the contessa’s fun romp to the ever-increasing beat of a metronome is rudely interrupted by her sword-bearing husband, leading to duel featuring chandelier-swinging, banana-eating, and a quickly improvised loin cloth made of sheets.

Most heartwarming: Well, the Chaplinesque scene where Liszt thinks back on his romance with the contessa actually is kind of sweet.

Most chilling: You know, when the dead Wagner rises as a zombie Hitler and starts mowing down the Jews—that really is kind of chilling. Especially as it’s intercut with Liszt being tortured, then killed, by his daughter, wielding voodoo pins on a “tiny daddy” doll.

He said, she said

This is how Jean explains the fact that we were in Orillia this weekend:

I got back from my canoeing trip and Cathy says, “You need to book November 6 off work. Because we’re going to an adultery concert.”

So I said, “Ah, is there something you’re trying to tell me, honey?”

But see, she meant Roger Daltrey—you know, from The Who?

So, that’s why I can’t do woodworking / go canoeing with you / stay any later at this party. Because we have to drive to Orillia this weekend, to get the pre-sale tickets at the box office, so we can get the good seats.

Which is a good little anecdote. Amusing. Not quite how I remember it, but some of the facts are there.

I did indeed find out, while Jean was away, that Roger Daltrey was touring (for the first time in 25 years), and that his only Ontario date was at the casino in Orillia. Of course I wanted to go—not like there are tons of opportunities to see him perform in relatively small venues—but Orillia struck me as a slightly annoying location, as it wasn’t so far away as to be impossible or terribly expensive to get there, but not so close as to be able to just buy tickets and worry about the details later.

The Who’s official website talked about this 2-day pre-sale (available only to Who fan club members—$50 US for that), including meet and greet packages. That all seemed cool, but there were no price details, and I wasn’t sure how many tickets I’d be needing, and… I fretted, but let those 2 days pass.

Which turned out to be a great decision, since Orillia was excluded from all that—no Who fan club pre-sale, no meet and greet packages on offer. (And by the way, it’s $350-$400 for that meet and greet stuff. Rather a lot for what would likely just be an awkward, 2-minute conversation with a stranger, eh? Like, what would I say to him? “Mr. Daltrey, I’m a big fan of your work. What a great voice. And what a great chest. Really, thank you so much for not wearing a shirt for most of the seventies! I really appreciate that!”

I’m sure that would have gone over well.)

Anyway. Pre-sale tickets for Orillia were set for August 16, so I had about a week after Jean got back to talk him into it. Because, see, Jean doesn’t particularly like going to rock concerts, as a rule, and while he has nothing against The Who, you wouldn’t call him a big fan, either.

I waited a day, then launched my pitch. I started with a joke about researching casinos because I thought I might take up gambling, but that fell a bit flat, so I just went into the facts, “and I know it’s a three-hour drive, and it’s Thursday night, which means you’re on call, and…”

“Well, find a friend to go with you and I’ll drive you. We’ll stay overnight, right?”

Say what now? “Yes, we’d have to. And I don’t know that any of my friends would be interested, but I don’t mind doing the concert part by myself.”

“Well, if you’d be alone, I’ll go with you.”

Say what now?

My second bout of fretting now deflated, I turned to the matter of getting tickets.

I called the casino and asked what the deal was with this pre-sale. Which was that, first of all, you needed a casino card. It was free to get one of those, so fine. But secondly, you had to take yourself and your casino card to the box office in Orillia, in person, and get the tickets there.

I concluded it just wasn’t reasonable to drive six hours in a day (there and back) just to get tickets, but then I fretted that they’d be all sold out in that two-day pre-sale.

Jean sighed. And then suggested that maybe we could make a weekend of it, spreading the driving over two days.

I started cooking him all his favourite foods.

But, you know, Orillia turns out to be quite a nice little town (and really only a 2.5 hours drive), apparently not drained of its life blood by its casino. It’s right on the water, and it was a beautiful weekend, so we quite enjoyed the beach and the marina. Downtown had an exhibit of classic cars, which was kind of interesting. Our reasonably priced Inn room had a little kitchen, living room, king-size bed, and two TVs! We ate in this neat restaurant set up in an old train, and went to see a musical revue about golf. (Which, OK, was a little weird, but it did fill up the evening.)

And, I am now the proud owner of two tickets in the seventh row, just slightly to the right of center stage.

On the way home, we stopped at Michael’s Statdlander’s new bakery in Singhampton. Best ice cream ever!

So now I can stop fretting. (But Jean can keep telling his anecdote.)

From 1974 interview with Roger Daltrey:

Roger Daltrey

Q: Will you still be doing this in your 60s?

A: Sure. Why not? Singers only get better with age.

Q: Would you play Vegas?

A: I don’t know. Maybe.

Q: You won’t get fat like Elvis, though, will you?

A: No. That will never happen.

Spectacular Spectacular

The snow had ended but the roads were still dicey as we headed out to the KW Symphony’s Yuletide Spectacular, so it was nice to see a fairly solid crowd was still in attendance. As was the news that the Grand Philharmonic Choir would live to sing another day after all.

This was a symphony concert rather light on the symphonic side of things, as they were joined by many guest performers of all types. The highlight of the first half was something I’d never seen or even heard of before, the Synergy Bell Choir. It’s just the coolest thing to see these young people (11 to 20) manipulate these bells—I wish they were on YouTube. But it sounds lovely too; we even bought their CD at intermission.

The Grand Philharmonic Choir did a very nice Gloria chorus in the first half, but my very favourite was the “Musicological Journey Through the 12 Days of Christmas”. Each day of this famously long carol is a sung in a different musical style, from Gregorian Chant to American Jazz, passing through Back, Beethoven, Mozart, Strauss, Stravinsky, Williams (John), and so on. Very cool! I searched iTunes for a version afterwards, but found I can get it only if I purchase the entire album by the San Francisco Gay Men’s Choir (I kid you not). Still pondering that one.

The Grand Philharmonic Children’s Choir was just deadly cute on their two numbers, “Veni, Veni, Emmanuel” and “Somewhere in my Memory” (from Home Alone). And sounded very sweet. And there were some solo singers as well, including identical twins Mercedes and Phoenix Ann-Horn (and yes, it was feeling a bit PBS-special at times, but delightful nonetheless).

Unfortunately, we frankly sitting too close to really appreciate the work of Carousel Dance, who danced a couple big numbers from The Nutcracker Suite, along with a more modern piece to Stille Nacht. It was hard not to just focus on one nearby dancer instead of trying to take in and appreciate the whole group dance effect.

And then there was the singing along, which we got to do to the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah (good thing they handed out lyric sheets, because it turns out the only lyric I knew was “Hallelujah”), “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, and “O Come, All Ye Faithful”.

“Laughter may be the best medicine, but singing is good for the soul,” said conductor Brian Jackson. Indeed!

The whole gang—soloists, adult and child choir, bell choir, dancers, and—oh yeah—the KW Symphony—got together for the final sing-a-long number, the “Be careful what you wish for” per Mr. Jackson, “White Christmas”. And we even got candy canes at the end.

I am finally in the mood for Christmas.