I met Amy at Starbucks one night because I was early to meet someone else. To be honest, the woman accosted my attention and started talking to me sort of out of the blue, but English conversation is always appreciated. She invited me "to see an orchestra". Like all things in Korea, I hastened to get my hopes up in the event that, like the soccer game where we didn't hob knob with celebs, it's less than earth-shatteringly spectacular.
First of all, I got to ride into Seoul in a car. What a treat. I didn't realize how much driving reminded me of home...that feeling of excitement, the comfort that comes with sitting versus standing on the tube, how bright and beautiful the lights of the city look when you get to see them from four separate windows showing four different angles. Cars: the new awesome thing.
Amy received a ticket for me from the conductor of her choir group. He lived in Rome (hmmm) for ten years and is very good friends with the conductor of this orchestra, Stefano Trasimeni. Riiiight.
We arrived at the Seoul Arts Centre (pic above). The place was immaculate, gorgeous, elaborate, swarming with the elite of Korea. It was great to be surrounded by artsy people again. Made me nostalgic for the Nutcracker with Laura and the Hamilton Philharmonic (and how my mom and I left after intermission). Everyone was in their overcoats and heels, coiffed hair and teeny tiny glasses of wine. Again, I breathed a sigh of relief: I was home.
The show started at 8 with a bang. I wish I could tell you what songs (pieces?) they performed, but I just can't bombard my little head with details like that. Needless to say, it was a dynamic performance that kept me enthralled for two and a half hours. It was remarkable...I thought I would fall asleep (because really, who can listen to music like that for that long? Usually not me), but there I was, alert and tickled pink for a loooong time. They started with a harpist who wore a ballgown and the highest heels I've ever seen while performing. I wonder if she practices like that? How else would you be comfortable? She was great.
Next came this pianist who looked like she was in pain when she was banging away on her keys. Oh, I didn't mention we were in the third row...close enough to see the pained expression on the face of the musicians. Next was a soloist (like, a singer) with more facial expression than I have ever seen on a Korean person before. She was telling a story (a great one at that) with her face and I was loving it. She sang in Italian. Alas, I didn't understand her. Won't opera be fun once I know what Carmen is singing about?
The violinist came next. She seemed a bit out of her element. All of the other women were ethereal and serene (even the pained pianist), but this woman reminded me of a maritime fiddler in the big city for the first time. She wore a ballgown too, but hers was more prom date than debutant, so I wasn't buying it. But the principal violinist, she was remarkable. She was a foreigner and she played like it was all she's ever wanted to do. Perhaps this is true. She was the most graceful weilder of a bow I've ever seen. I said it.
The conductor was fabulous too. I didn't know who he was or that he was Italian. I only knew he had heart, and quite a bit of it. He was so excited, so sweet, and so father-like. It was a pleasure to watch him.
When the performance was over and they played the encore piece, which I actually knew, we went out to a bar for a drink with the choir members. The conductor of the choir showed up with the conductor of the orchestra. I thought that was neat, but didn't realize how neat until he started talking.
Turns out this man lives in Rome and splits his time between the Rome Philharmonic (or something like that) and the Seoul Philharmonic. My desperate attempt to speak Italian was welcomed warmly though. I told him in the most ridiculously shy voice (now I understand, Korea. I'm sorry I was so intolerant), "Mio nome (then because I'm a female and I'm pretty sure I was supposed to use the female form of "me"), mia nome secundo, uh, famiglia, e Bergamo." Is "is" even "e"? Who knows. He was thrilled, "Oh, you're Italian!" He told me his English was "tragic"...yeah, you should hear my Italian. In a panic, I recalled the Italian contest Mrs. Palermo entered us in. I tried though (last night as well as at the contest) and my efforts went over well.
Signore Trasimeni asked me when I was planning my move to Rome. It THRILLED me to tell him fall of 2010 (yeah, pack your bags, because I know all of you want to go on a Euro Adventure. We're doing Europe 1997 all over again, but waaaay better). Then he tells me that his email address is on his card and I'm to email him when I have questions about Rome, moving to Italy, and of course, to be shown around once I'm there. Riiiight. Just going out for an espresso with my old pal.
So there you go...now not only do I have famiglia in Roma, but a friend who knows a thing or two about a thing or two. Good night...good day :)
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