I have been excited about this night (10 September 2014) since July. Tonight was the night I was going to go see classical pianist, James Rhodes, live. I bought my ticket as soon as I saw he was touring and was a giddy mess all day today just knowing how wonderful tonight was going to be. And it was… except something happened on the way…I ended up in The Mousetrap.
No, that’s not a metaphor (although it really could be). I actually started out my night of entertainment seated in the wrong theatre watching a play, not a man playing Chopin, Bach, or Rachmaninov. Here’s what happened (and then I’m moving on to what I really wanted to write about…the genius Mr Rhodes)….
I, notoriously, have absolutely no sense of direction and when I walk around London I am often distracted by the absolute amazingness of the city and don’t always pay the best attention. That being said, I made it from Leicester Square Underground Station to the Ambassadors Theatre without getting terribly lost. I picked up my ticket at the box office where the man told me the concert starts at half seven. I had all sorts of time so I thought I’d just take a stroll around. I told myself, “Pay attention to where you are going so you don’t get lost.” Well, I didn’t get lost. I merely walked around the block (do they call them blocks here?) and stood outside what I thought was the theatre where I picked up my ticket. It was a nice night and there are always people to watch and buildings to gaze at.
Now, while I admit to being a bit of an idiot, I have to say that three, count them—THREE, people looked at my ticket when I went into the theatre. They each actually held the damn thing in their hands so they could see where I was seated and not one of them said, “Hey, you fool, you’re in the wrong theatre.” Nope, they told me where seat D-13 and there I sat until the lights went down and they announce something about it being a performance of The Mousetrap. Denial kicks in fast. “Nah, the theatre should update their announcements when they have special performances,” is what goes through my head. The curtain goes up and there’s a set and a lady walking around the stage doing something actress-like. Then a man comes on stage and they have dialogue. My brain starts freaking out, “What the…(fill in the first word that comes to mind) this is a play, not a concert!”
Here’s where the metaphor kicks in. I was trapped. Third row from the front, almost centre. Once the lights were down and the play started, I’m far too courteous and well-trained to get up and push through to the exit. So, I sat there panicked and sad, ready to cry but knowing that would not help. I knew I was stuck and was just hoping the show had an interval and that it would hurry along. I wasn’t sure if they would even let me in to James’ concert since it had started. “Maybe the intervals would happen at the same time,” I hoped (yeah, because that happens!).
I can’t tell you if the play was good or bad. I tried to pay attention because I have respect for anyone who gets up on stage to perform but my concentration was really on how to get to the other theatre. I wasn’t supposed to be seeing a play; I was supposed to be listening to Beethoven! I can tell you that as soon as that curtain went down and the lights were barely up I was excusing my way towards the exit. I probably could have dove over the three people seated next to me; I was that determined to get out. The front house staff members that I encountered at this point were great and sweet and not one of them made me feel foolish. I missed the Rhodes’ interval but they snuck me in (not to my actual seat but that’s ok) after Mr Rhodes finished the piece he was playing. Crisis handled.
Okay, I hope you lasted this long so I can tell you the better part of my evening. I won’t pretend to be a classical music aficionado. I’m not going to say that it’s the only thing I listen to because if you looked at my iTunes library you’d see that is a big fat lie. My exposure to classical music comes from years of taking piano as a child, a few visits to the Phoenix Symphony, and a passion for ballet. Otherwise, classical music always felt a bit uptight to me. And then, one day last year, I came upon the work of James Rhodes.
The first CD I downloaded was Jimmy: James Rhodes Live in Brighton. I will almost always go for a live CD before a studio version. Live music, even recorded, is always better. What I love best about that CD, besides the beautiful music, is when James starts talking about the music. He takes a form of music that seems so unapproachable by many of us mere mortals and brings it down to Earth and talks about it in a way we can all understand and in a language that is so completely non-high brow. He even swears! And every time he introduces what he’s about to play and takes the time to give a little story about the piece or just what it means to him, personally, that piece of music suddenly has a life and means more to me as a listener.
This is why tonight’s concert meant so much to me. I knew he’d talk about the music with an enthusiasm and love that is completely contagious. I knew he’d be up there on stage in jeans, a t-shirt, and oh-so-cool shoes and he’d make me laugh but he’d also make it easy to love and enjoy the music. Because of the debacle explained above, I only got to hear the final three pieces. It’s difficult not to be disappointed that I missed most of the concert but I am so pleased at what I did get to see and hear that I left the theatre smiling and possibly freaked out a few people on the Tube because I was still smiling all the way home to Belsize Park. I’m still reeling at the speed and grace of his hands as he played. That is something to see and wish I’d gotten to see more of it. I will just have to order his new DVD on Amazon tomorrow morning and be content with the next best thing to an actual live concert!
One last thing…and I feel like I’m burying this at the end when it deserves to be front and centre but hopefully the BOLD print will get your attention. James Rhodes is working on an incredible campaign to get musical instruments and education to school children in England called Don’t Stop the Music. If you are in the UK and have a musical instrument to donate, please do. He also started a petition yesterday to “Deliver on the Government’s promise to give EVERY child the opportunity to learn an instrument.” I have included the links for both of these as well as James Rhodes’ website because, like I said, his enthusiasm and love for music is contagious and music really does enhance a child’s life. I know it enhanced mine.
On My Mind 
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