Day 11: March 8, 2010 Back to Omaha, Nebraska

Day 11: March 8, 2010 Back to Omaha, Nebraska

Sorry, I’m a little behind on my blogging here. I owe you some yarn on the last two concerts. Right now we’re once again driving in thick fog on the 35 through Iowa. This is the road that I still have nightmares about from two years ago. At least this time it’s only fog we’re dealing with, instead of snow, wind and ice. There are no abandoned cars, or overturned trucks or emergency vehicles like the last time.

Last night’s concert was probably our best. That didn’t mean that we could just relax and let it “roll.” All it takes to mess up is two seconds of mind wandering. It took discipline not to think about: “I hear a few coughs. I need to play better so they won’t.” or, “How in the world are we going to pack all this stuff up and get it on the plane?” or, “Did we forget to eat dinner?” or, “I hope we both remember the changes we did to the show.” It doesn’t matter how well one knows the material; there’s something about being up on stage that can play tricks on you. Also, people don’t realize that even if one whispers from the back row the performers can hear every word. One time I heard, “Wow! Would you look at those shoes! How does she do it?” We had a full house of enthusiastic listeners. There were also some families in the mix, which I especially like. The piano was an older 7-foot Yamaha, which was in great condition. It had ivory keys, which I love! I compare them to a mink coat; PC or not, they feel fabulous.

After the show while greeting and signing CDs, a nice older gentleman offered up some comments. He said while he couldn’t quite connect at first to my original pieces because they were not yet familiar to him, he did enjoy my “Blue Mountain,” and asked if I was really picturing those waterfalls, majestic snow-covered peaks, and wildflowers which I had described to the audience. He also really liked the “Phantom of the Opera “ medley, and asked what I was feeling when I played it. I explained that while it’s always good to get one’s fingers on the right notes, piano playing and being a musician in general goes beyond playing one’s instrument: One must be somewhat of an actor. When playing “Blue Mountain,” for example, I was hiking up a beautiful path in my mind, and inviting the audience to join me. With “Phantom,” I was acting out the show. He smiled, and just then, his wife chimed in that he had been a drama teacher for many years. “Stanislavski!” I shouted. There was a wink, a nod, and thumbs up. That’s pretty much what I try to do in a nutshell, and he understood.

There was an artist’s reception at the Mark and Deb’s house, she being their concert association president. That was our “cast party!” A nice man came up to me and remembered seeing me in the late 70’s, playing in The Shoreham Hotel in Washington, D.C. Wow. He said that after seeing me, he caught The Mark Russell Show in their Marquee Lounge. Wow again. As it turns out, back then Frank was playing bass for that show. Frank and I had worked side by side in that town without ever meeting! This man, thirty years later, was our link. I met a Swiss hotel manager at the time, married him, and moved to New York City. Frank went on to Los Angeles. Four years went by, and my Swiss husband got a transfer to West Hollywood. Once again Frank and I were playing in the same hotel, The Bonaventure, in L.A. This time, we met. Twenty-five blissful years have passed, and I still feel a “zing” every time we’re on stage, and I see him playing his bass and smiling at me.

Let’s backtrack to Minnesota. Garrison Keeler was on the radio yesterday as I was about to write about the good people there. As he says: “Where the men are strong, the women good-looking, and the children above average.” He describes them well. I love the way they say their “O’s.” In one day, we went from Kansas through Missouri, then Iowa then to Minnesota. It was amazing how in each state the accents changed. (Actually, it’s probably we that have the accent.) The small towns throughout Minnesota are neat and well kept, with signs of thriving downtowns.

I wished we had had more time in them.

Shane, our sound and lighting technician who was a high school student, explained that some things were “sketchy” in this auditorium, sound-wise. After working for an hour trying this and that, we finally came up with solutions. The lighting, however, was his forte. He had flashing spots, blue, red, and interesting angles from above, behind, and in front. Wanting him to feel good and use his creativity, we left it up to him. While rehearsing, though, Frank and I thought we were in a Disco!

After being announced, we walked out on stage for our first number. I slid onto the piano bench and couldn’t find middle “C!” There were red, blue and black shadows all over the keys. After hitting the wrong first chord, my heart raced. I quickly recovered, and from then on I pretended that I was Ray Charles. “Don’t look down,” I thought. Later we started “Waltz for Allie.” I looked down again. Darn. Another false start! The red and blue was flashing now. I came close to just stopping, and getting up and doing the Watusi! The piano was a Baldwin, and unlike the lively, wild previous one, this had dignity, grace, subtly and it was clean. I had to search for the “tiger” in it, but finally it was there.

We ended up playing a slightly different show each time this tour. The first one in Ogallala, Nebraska needed to be shortened to an hour and a half, the second in Canyon City, Colorado needed to be different, (because we had played there before) and after that, we decided it felt “fresh” and fun to keep changing it up every time. We told different stories, played different pieces and improvised more. We brought our own microphones with on/off switches so as not to drive our sound guys crazy, and Frank had a bigger presence on stage. He talked. He was funny. He rocked! (He also wore the new pair of tight black pants he let me buy for him.) It was genuinely fun up there on stage.

Frank just gave me some statistics:

Miles driven: 2780, through five states

Time spent in the car: 49 hours

Time performing: 9 hours

Time rehearsing/set up: 20 hours (about four hours per show)

Average audience size: 400-600 people

We made it back to Omaha, ate lunch one more time at “The Big Horn Barbeque,” filled the void in our suitcases (from CD sales) with their BBQ sauce, returned our Jeep Cherokee (slightly damaged) and are now lying on still another King size bed at La Quinta Hotel by the airport. We’re on vacation! There is absolutely nothing we have to do until our flight at 6am. Once we get home, as nice as it will be, it will be “back to work” in another sense. Signing off, now...,