It's not Italy Day anymore, it's just plain old Sunday with groceries to buy and cobwebs to sweep, and a tennis lesson for Daughter #2 while I sit and read in the waiting area for an hour wishing they'd turn on the blasted heat.
But last night's Eyetalian concert was a delight. The first half was The Fountains of Rome, and it went smoothly. Pictures of the fountains (I think three of the four still remain) were projected on a side wall for the audience.
The second half was a collection of pieces performed with a chorus made up of local people. Some of them were quite old, and the very aged woman standing beside the horn section had to sit during one song, with her eyes watering and her hands shaking. I was concerned, but she snapped out of it and went on. O Mio Babbino was so sorrowfully lovely, the audience demanded an encore, so we performed it twice. I only had one note in that piece--two actually, tied whole notes--but the soloist was really a treat.
We finished with the finale to act two of Aida, and the trumpets (#2 included) stood on a landing off to the side and sounded great. Some of our concerts seem to land flat--our audience isn't as backwoods as some like to mock them for being--they are actually learned and well-traveled people--but they seem to like pop concerts more than more serious performances. Last night's display had just enough flash and amusement to lead them to stand for us all at the end. It was a success.
On the last line of the last stupid song, I played in a rest, and I wanted to kick my stand over onto the floor. But I may have been the only one who heard it, and if that my was worst mistake (that and faking the triplets in Figaro), then I would count it a personal success as well.