There's a lot of blah blah about all this--stuff that I could ( and usually do) go on and on about, but really doesn't interest anyone else. Example: Learning three songs by Rachmaninoff in Russian (for two concerts last Thursday) just about made my head explode--random syllables strung together at break-neck speed. We all decided that it was better that, though, than using the English translations, which featured, among other themes (we're told), a love-sick duck and a woman being chased around by her husband with a whip. The music is gorgeous, so it was best to let the imagination of the non-Russian speakers in the audience (the larger percentage, I would hope) soar to loftier subject matter. One more example: The last piece we sang for the traditional July 3rd concert is a compilation of the anthems representing the 5 branches of the armed services (I'll bet you can't hum the Coast Guard hymn). The only thing I'll say about that is that the words, all about the glory of battle, made me sad. Had to block 'em out.
But the part of the experience I loved most was sitting so close to (just behind) the orchestra, no matter the music, whether in practice or performance. The sound is electrifying, the percussion in particular! There's nothing like feeling the air vibrate during the 1812 Overture (parts of which we get to sing along)! I just floated around in it. Hungarian Dances. John Williams' Superman March. Many others. The only thing that can almost break the spell is watching the horn players empty spit on the floor. Really? That's the only way to handle that little problem in these high-tech times? Otherwise, glorious! Lucky me!
Most of the concerts were indoors, but the Happy Birthday USA is another outdoor picnic, which is where Tom took the first two pics. The chorus wore white tops instead of the usual black so as to set off flag-printed scarves we had to wear for the performance.
I will miss the music this summer, as usual. We won't meet again for two months when we'll jump right into Christmas music (which will feel like whiplash, I'm sure). But it's part of the rhythm. I'll adjust.
At the concert, we bought raffle tickets to support the kids' programs run by the Music in the Mountains. We actually won some prizes--gift certificates for local wineries, a Williams/Sonoma-type kitchen store nearby and a nice restaurant in town...
...which we used the next day, on the Fourth. We had a great lunch in a beautiful patio before driving to Malakoff Diggins State Historical Park for a little hike in the woods. Tom wouldn't let me take his picture, so here's a shot of Humbug Creek, along which we trekked.
The Park, located about an hour north of Nevada City, preserves the little mining town of North Bloomfield and the legacy of the mining activity in the area, which employed the force of pressurized water to wash away the mountains to find the gold. The practice, called hydraulic mining, was outlawed in 1884, or thereabouts, but there's quite a bit of evidence left of its destructive power.
Next day, we had a fun visit from our niece, Lily--Terry and H's daughter--and her roommate, Talitha (Lily's on the left, Talitha, the right). Talitha's mom lives nearby and they were visiting here from Fresno for the long weekend. They weren't able to stay long, but we had a nice chat and the usual photo op in front of the house.
So, you got off easy. I didn't mention Goody Patrol, or the Veronika Kincses concert, or--ooh,ooh! I almost forgot. Go see Toy Story 3!! I mean it! We loved the first two, but this one blows even them out of the water! The 3-D is nice, but not necessary. Seriously, do it!
