IrishOboe

Tonight was the Tanz-abend.  It’s midnight and I should go straight to bed, but my blood is still pumping from the fun.  About 150 merrymakers gathered in a room a bit too small for five hours of watching, listening, dancing, eating, laughing and playing.  The evening started off unpleasant for me because of confusion over just who was playing what and with whom and when and some people were not happy about it and I really couldn’t take the bull by the horns because I’m still figured out the system.  I felt irresponsible, yet unable to take action.  Yuck!  I’m happy to report the story has a happy ending.

Most of the evening was a mix of Renaissance and Baroque dances, either performed by trained dancers in costume, or made simple enough to include most of the audience.  It’s always so much fun to dance in groups and meet people without having to make small talk.

 I should mention that earlier in the day I’d tried to coax some life out of my Baroque oboe reeds and praise God (he must know the reed fairy) it met with success.  The battery in my tuner is out, so I couldn’t tell if the pitch was right, but it was even between octaves (something the other reed I’d been using was doing horribly) so I figured it was close.  I managed to get a chord from the harpsichord before the evening started and was very relieved to know that it was indeed dead on!  I was still nervous about our lack of preparation and the lack of solution, but just before I had to play I discovered some other musicians would join us, which made it much better for me, though I didn’t have the confidence to guide the tempo even though I was the one who had rehearsed with the dancers.  We played too quickly, and I felt bad about that, but at least I didn’t mess it up by squawking all over the place.

 The second piece I played was indeed only cembalo (harpsichord) and me.  I had a few squeaks, but it generally went okay.  I’m sure a better musician would have done more with it, but I survived, which made me very happy.  One of the teachers graciously complemented me saying I had a good lilt, or something like that.  Anyway, that part done (and actually enjoyed) I relaxed for the rest of the evening dancing and listening and loving every minute.  The musicians are amazing and the music is so exciting.  The dancers were pretty, too!  In one of the group dances I had the privilege of dancing with one of the trained dancers and he really swung me around.  What fun!  He kept talking to me in French, though.  I understand that even less than Swiss German . . .

 The most magical moment of the evening was at the end of a performed dance variation.  As the main dancers invited those with dance experience to join in on the improvisation, the audience spontaneously (it seemed to me at least) broke into improvised singing over the simple bass line.  I love singing with a large group of musicians (like at Eastman’s Christmas Sing), but to sing with a large group of musicians so into the music they’re compelled to join in the improved fun is quite another experience.

 Somewhere in there we took an hour break to enjoy a pot luck dinner and at 10:30 we took a break so the salsa band could set up.  If I’d read the brochure correctly, or believed what I thought I read, I would have know about it, but I didn’t, so it was a great surprise to me.  After the first song everyone was on the dance floor whether they knew now to salsa or not and quite a few musicians joined the band on stage for a spell.  I was grateful for the salsa lessons I received in Japan from my friend Mike.  I was able to remember the basic steps and a few moves and danced for most of the songs.  I first danced with friends from the Renaissance dance class, who knew even less about salsa than I did.  Then drunk on the late hour and the great music I decided to break out of the role of new-kid-on-the-block and invite a few guys too shy to join in to dance.  I don’t think it killed them to dance with me, and I dare say they had a little fun, too.  Many people on the floor really knew what they were doing and it looked like so much fun.  Improvisation is so important in life and in play.  Is that the problem with the world today?  We’ve forgotten how to improvise?  We want to be told what to do and do it without having to think.  I sometimes think of life as a great Dance with the Great Dance Master at the head teaching us patiently how to join the Dance without tripping ourselves and others up.  Yes, there are rules about where we can and cannot go and how we can and cannot dance, but it is not a rigid dance.  The best dancers know the rhythm of the dance so well they can improvise beautifully within it, coming up with their own creative ways of expressing their joy while fitting into the great Pattern.  That’s what the Dance Master is teaching us to do when he says “don’t step here” and “do step here.”  Some people wonder how Christians can live without certain “pleasures.”  There’s a far greater pleasure in being a positive part of the dance.  It might be fun to twirl around, but if you twirl around in the wrong place you make a mess.  Is it loss of freedom to only twirl in some places?  Is it less pleasurable to twirl when it’s the right time?  Is it painful not to twirl when it doesn’t fit the dance at the moment?  No.  I think that if I’m struggling with a sin, I do not see God’s more beautiful plan for experiencing the pleasure I’m seeking.  If I see it and experience it, it is hard to remember being tempted by that sin.

 I fear I’m making less sense as I go on.  That’s the penalty for writing at 1am (in addition to typos).  Even though I walked home (shhh, don’t tell Mom) I returned safe, sound and happy.  Now go, take up a dance class!