(from Pu-Chin Waide, lifetime member)
We Virginians were always envious of the Marylanders of their Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, MD. But in 1972 things changed, as we got our very own outdoor theatre in Vienna, VA. In those early days of our youth, we did not mind traipsing from the far end of the parking lot, carrying coolers, blankets, and, of course, the ubiquitous bottles of wine and beer to our own $15 per person piece of grassy slope on the top and back of the stage. We spread out our blankets and took possession of our temporary piece of property. Almost at once our children demanded their picnic. That was what it was all about – munch while listening to the wonderful music emanating from the stage. We loved that and were indifferent to the long trek back to our respective cars at the other end of the parking lot.
As the years rolled by, and our bodies aged and slowed down, our trips to that wonderful musical place also diminished. The trek from the parking lot to the grassy space seemed daunting, but we forgot that relative affluence often accompanied old age, and we could afford to sit in the beautiful, modern, open-sided hall itself. We would not have to lower ourselves gingerly onto the grass, from which it would have been almost impossible to rise. Furthermore, we did not have to lug our coolers full of goodies; we could now buy our dinners and fancy snacks from several five-star eateries. Our cumbersome aging bodies were happy and relieved.
Maria Yang’s mass email to the OCAW Virginia members telling us about Yo-Yo Ma’s upcoming concert, was thrilling. Ma’s cello playing is divine, and although I have many of his CDs, I have never seen him on stage. This was a concert I could not miss.
Maria had warned us about getting the tickets online. The price might be double that of the box office. I tried anyway, and discovered that the lawn spaces were $72 each, and the seats themselves were $125-$150 each. I was shocked. What was happening; Wolf Trap’s pricing was deliberately set up so that it would be within reach of everyone. It did not seem right. So I took myself to the box office. Indeed, the lawn was $35 per ticket and the inside seats started at $72. I told the lady of my experience online, and she said that some people bought up blocks of tickets and then resold them at the inflated prices. There was nothing they could do about it. This was free enterprise. I purchased my two handicapped tickets for myself and my friend, and three for our helpers. I joked with my family, “if it hadn’t been for my handicapped friend and me,” they would not have been able to come, as the concert was sold out of regular seats.
Maria had also said that we might meet during the intermission, and she would hand out mooncakes and toast to the Mid-Autumn Festival. Being in a wheelchair, I did not expect to be able to meet up with my OCAW sisters. Looking around, it was indeed full. In a glance, I might have seen a scattering of empty seats. I felt sorry for those who had had to pay the gouged prices. I remembered our childhood teasing – “Too bad, so sad, I’m glad!”
When we had settled into our seats, I studied the program and was surprised and rather disappointed that the main feature was not Yo-Yo Ma, but rather a series of pieces of Latin music of Mexico, Cuba, and Venezuela. There was only one piece of music to be played by Ma on his cello, Paquito D’Rivera on his magical clarinet, and Cathy Yang on her erhu, an ancient Chinese two-stringed instrument. As we waited, the huge disc of brilliant silver, Autumn moon could be seen peeping from behind the tall trees, also waiting patiently for the music to start.
I gingerly stood up from my wheelchair and looked around. The myriad of different facial features, shades of skin, hair color, and costumes overwhelmed me. We were indeed testimony to Maestro Yo-Yo Ma’s belief that, to quote the Program Notes of the Concert, “Culture could generate trust and understanding that will stimulate the imagination and reinforce our humanity” in the human race.
When the first piece began, I must admit that I was not sure of what I was hearing; it all seemed dissonant and off-beat, and my having been brought up in the Western European musical tradition, I was bewildered. However, I kept my ears opened and my mind open, and gradually I began to adjust to the strange harmony and syncopated beats and began to see in my mind’s eye the lumbering of the Elephant and the prancing of the Clown. By the end of the piece, I was enchanted.
Of course, the next piece was the piece de resistance of the evening. This is what many of us came for. Binoculars were passed back and forth, zooming first on Maestro Ma, then D’Rivera then the erhu, which many had never seen before, and finally we settled down, closed our eyes, and listened. Celestial, wonderful, moving – how can one describe such sublime sounds. What amazed me was that the erhu could produce a voluminous and deep sound from such a small sound box. I was sure it would be dominated by Ma’s cello.
During the intermission, somehow Maria found me, and came to give me a box of mooncakes, to share with my daughter-in-law and granddaughter and friends. It was a wonderful surprise. Of course, we had to open the box and have some of the cakes. Later an official of the venue came and smilingly told us that we were not supposed to eat anything in the pavilion, but she added, “I did not see what you have done” and walked away. We were gently chastised and made to feel a bit guilty. We will remember this always.
The rest of the evening was history. The audience was totally seduced by the musicians and craved for more, especially after such a finale as Leonard Bernstein’s familiar West Side Story in concert form. Alas, it was late and many of us had “miles to go before I sleep.”
Maria,
I am sure OCAW will join me in thanking you very much for a great evening. Those mooncakes were the icing on the cake. Did you also arrange for the FULL MOON?