Friday night music…Part 1
One Friday at the end of May, right before the end of the school year here, a text from Hiltrud popped up on my phone. She told me her grandchild was playing in a concert that night in Greve- the next town over. Would I like to go if she picked me up and dropped me home? This was in my pre-Panda days when I was uncertain about Friday night bus rides. Sure, I love concerts! I told her I’d take the bus in but might need a ride home. At 6 PM I headed into Greve’s Casa del Popolo (there’s a “house of the people” of some kind or other in every Italian town and village- sort of like the local community center).
People were already filling “the people’s house” so I draped my coat over two folding chairs and walked to the door to wait for Hiltrud.
In a minute I had a revelation. This wasn’t just any concert and the people streaming in weren’t just any concertgoers…no, this was the end of year school concert for the Greve Music School! And the people rearranging the wobbly rows of folding chairs were families making room for strollers, grandparents with canes and preschoolers with their favorite toy in hand.
Happy memories of so many evenings like this, sitting on flimsy chairs, straining to see my child or grandchild, in a too hot gym flashed by.
The music director gave a long, passionate introduction (Italians do like to talk!) puntuated with many hand gestures. Then it was time for the first performance. A bass player, drummer and a young woman guitarist took the stage. Another young woman stepped to the mic and began to sing… Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect”!
Yes! There I am in Italy, sitting at a school concert listening to kids sing English songs with an Italian accent! There was Creedence Clearwater Revival’s” Have You Evere Seen the Rain”, another Ed Sheeran song and some others I don’t recall. But there is one I will never forget. A teenager with jet black hair and thick, blunt bangs belted out the most rousing rendition of Eye of the Tiger I have ever heard. Meanwhile I couldn’t take my eyes off the guitarist in the little band. She looked to be about 15 and she had all the moves of a young Eddie Van Halen! The walls of the people’s house were rocking!
Younger musicians climbed on stage for the last set before intermission. A boy in shorts, suspenders and a bow tie captivated the audience.
“What is your name,” the band director asked in Italian. “Patrick” he says as he stood up.
“How old are you?” “Five”. “
“And what’s that you play?” “A ukulele!”
Laughter erupted as he held up his mini ukulele!
Throughout the evening, parents jockeyed for the best spot to capture a video of their child. Inpatient, restless younger kids were shifted from lap to lap while “cooler”, older siblings hung out around the perimeter.
After almost two hours, of rock and jazz, Hiltrud’s grandchild still hadn’t made an appearance. I had glanced at the program but without my own copy compounded by my translation challenges, I wasn’t even sure what I was waiting for. I hadn’t undertsood Hiltrud when she told me what her grandchild was going to perform and I also wasn’t sure if we were waiting for a grandson or granddaughter (gender descriptions of grandchildren in other languages can be confusing) and I was embarassed to ask her to repeat another time. So I waited.
Then, the final act was announced! The school orchestra filled the little stage and Hiltrud pointed with a smile to a girl with a harp (arpa). “That’s Francesca”.
What a magical night. I met another of my new friend’s sons, his wife and their three grandchildrenand. Best of all I shared in a universal experience - an end of year school concert!
