This post is best enjoyed while listening to Falco's hit song, Rock Me Amadeus.
Every year in Unazuki Onsen, a small district in Kurobe that bears an uncanny resemblance to Salzburg, Austria (Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's hometown), there is a two-day festival dedicated solely to his music. For two days, people from all over Japan come to perform free concerts for anyone who might be interested. With how expensive and infrequent classical music concerts are in Japan, it's an amazing opportunity.
I had to have a piece of the action.
I had to have a piece of the action.
This is the second year in a row that I've agreed to dress up in velvet, don a scratchy polyester wig and pretend to be Wolfgang back from the dead. A brief explanation for those of you wondering why the heck I would want to do something like that: there's something that happens inside your brain when people openly, visibly love you. Some chemical high that's released by people screaming your name (or the name of some long-dead composer you vaguely resemble for the moment) and scrambling to take a picture with you. I never understood the appeal of celebrity until I volunteered to be Mozart. I don't think I stopped smiling for two days straight. Everyone (including myself) knew that I wasn't really Mozart, but for a few hours we could put that knowledge aside and bask in the pretending.
I'll be honest--I don't love Mozart's music. I tend to like a more intense, edgy brand of classical. Really, if it's not exciting enough to keep me on the edge of my seat or depressing enough to have me on the floor weeping, it's hard for me to get serious about a piece of instrumental music. Now that I've listened to approximately 1,500 renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, I stand by my assertion--Mozart is many things, but edgy is not one of them. Still, you can't deny that he has star-power. Even two hundred years after his death, "Mozart" is a name celebrated all over the world, and much of his music is instantly recognizable. I'm sure he had no idea, back in the 1700s when he was penning his compositions, that his music would end up having such a wide and impacting reach.
During the two days of the festival, there were enough traditional goodies to satisfy any hard-core Amadeus fan. I saw plenty of piano, lots of woodwinds (clarinets, flutes, oboes) and strings (violas, violins, cellos), but there were also several instruments that you might not expect at your traditional Mozart concert. I suppose it's a bit like fanfiction--you know the source material is good if people are so excited to play around with it. I saw saxophones and keyboards, ocarinas and kotos, electric guitars and mandolins. I even heard a symphony in the style of a swing dance. Take that to the bank and cash it, baby!
Of course, when I sat down to write this post I realized that even though the music at the festival was great the people playing the music were the best part. Becoming Mozart meant having an instant "in" with the performers, so I had an up-close-and-personal concert experience and met most of the performers. I also had a chance to surprise my students by showing up at their performances as a man in a white polyester wig. I can't put pics of the kiddos online, but trust me--they're adorable.
During the two days of the festival, there were enough traditional goodies to satisfy any hard-core Amadeus fan. I saw plenty of piano, lots of woodwinds (clarinets, flutes, oboes) and strings (violas, violins, cellos), but there were also several instruments that you might not expect at your traditional Mozart concert. I suppose it's a bit like fanfiction--you know the source material is good if people are so excited to play around with it. I saw saxophones and keyboards, ocarinas and kotos, electric guitars and mandolins. I even heard a symphony in the style of a swing dance. Take that to the bank and cash it, baby!
Of course, when I sat down to write this post I realized that even though the music at the festival was great the people playing the music were the best part. Becoming Mozart meant having an instant "in" with the performers, so I had an up-close-and-personal concert experience and met most of the performers. I also had a chance to surprise my students by showing up at their performances as a man in a white polyester wig. I can't put pics of the kiddos online, but trust me--they're adorable.
Famous composer? More like saxophone genius.
Something you might not know about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is how talented he was at playing and writing music for the saxophone. In fact, many of his most famous symphonies include sax solos that are so complex and difficult to perform that orchestras often choose to omit them in live performances*. Luckily, Mozart himself was at the festival to perform one of his most famous saxophone pieces. He was accompanied by two pianists and a violinist in full period costume. While some other groups at the festival had snazzy uniforms, this was the only group that got into the role-playing aspect so seriously. They sweetened the crowd first by playing (yet another) rousing rendition of Twinkle Twinkle, but they followed it up by playing a composition Mozart wrote for his father--one much darker and more interesting than most of Mozart's music. I'd love to tell you what it was, but that information is highly classified and also I forgot to look at the sign. Makes me wonder what kind of music I'd compose for my own father. Probably something with a lot of sax.
*This is false.
*This is false.
I took a picture with the group after their performance (Mozart, as you can see, had already taken off his hair). You can't tell from the picture, but the young woman in the pink dress actually had bright blue contacts in her eyes, and throughout the picture taking process you could tell she was enamored of my own slighty-muddy-green/blue peepers. When I told her that her dress was pretty, she snuggled up to my arm and said: "You're pretty!"
Who knew that the best way to pick up chicks is premature polyester gray?
Who knew that the best way to pick up chicks is premature polyester gray?
Kanto Felice
In my opinion, there's nothing better than a group of middle-aged ladies getting together and letting down their hair. They know how to have a good time, and they're secure enough in themselves that they don't care if they look silly doing it. So, when I sat down to a chorale performance from one such group of women, I knew I was in for a treat. Not only was their performance impressive, they were also some of the nicest (and most interesting) ladies I met at the event.
Kanto Felice is a chorale group who all graduated from the same university in Osaka but who now all live in the Kanto area of Japan (essentially the Tokyo area). Even though they said they only get together to practice once a month, they still sounded lovely. They sang several songs from Mozart's Requiem--usually performed with a full orchestra and some male chorale participation--accompanied by nothing more than a piano.
They got so much applause when they finished the last Requiem song (Sanctus) that they came back on stage for an encore. An encore which wouldn't have been complete, they said, without the big man himself helping out. Now, for all I know Mozart sounded like an ogre when he opened his mouth, but I personally have the voice of an angel* so I gave it my all. We sang Agnus Dei. Please listen to it and pretend that I am Kathleen Battle.
*This is also false.
Kanto Felice is a chorale group who all graduated from the same university in Osaka but who now all live in the Kanto area of Japan (essentially the Tokyo area). Even though they said they only get together to practice once a month, they still sounded lovely. They sang several songs from Mozart's Requiem--usually performed with a full orchestra and some male chorale participation--accompanied by nothing more than a piano.
They got so much applause when they finished the last Requiem song (Sanctus) that they came back on stage for an encore. An encore which wouldn't have been complete, they said, without the big man himself helping out. Now, for all I know Mozart sounded like an ogre when he opened his mouth, but I personally have the voice of an angel* so I gave it my all. We sang Agnus Dei. Please listen to it and pretend that I am Kathleen Battle.
*This is also false.
Astronomical Odds
Quick--what's the last place in the world you would expect to see someone from Denver? Someone other than me, that is.
If you said Unazuki Onsen Resort in Kurobe City, Japan, you are correct.
I was waiting for the last performance of the day on Saturday (a very talented pianist in a very fluffy pink dress) when I heard it: English. Unaccented English.
Now, my English interactions in Japan are limited to a.) my students and b.) other English teachers who subconsciously use an embarrassing amount of helpful gestures (thanks, job), so I couldn't pass up the chance to talk to someone normally. I asked her if she'd enjoyed the festival so far, and eventually the conversation wove around to this:
Judy: "Are you from Canada?"
Me: "No, I'm from America."
Judy: "Oh, what state?"
Me: "Colorado."
Judy: *blank stare* "Where in Colorado?"
Me: "...Denver?"
Judy: "Me too."
Me: "You're kidding."
It turned out that the woman was named Judy, and she had previously lived in Unazuki for a while instructing teachers in Montessori education. When she's in America (about three months out of the year), she lives less than a mile away from my dad's condo downtown. Of all the art museums in all the towns in all the world, she came walking into that one.
I don't know what the odds of this happening are, but I'd place a bet on them being astronomically low.
If you said Unazuki Onsen Resort in Kurobe City, Japan, you are correct.
I was waiting for the last performance of the day on Saturday (a very talented pianist in a very fluffy pink dress) when I heard it: English. Unaccented English.
Now, my English interactions in Japan are limited to a.) my students and b.) other English teachers who subconsciously use an embarrassing amount of helpful gestures (thanks, job), so I couldn't pass up the chance to talk to someone normally. I asked her if she'd enjoyed the festival so far, and eventually the conversation wove around to this:
Judy: "Are you from Canada?"
Me: "No, I'm from America."
Judy: "Oh, what state?"
Me: "Colorado."
Judy: *blank stare* "Where in Colorado?"
Me: "...Denver?"
Judy: "Me too."
Me: "You're kidding."
It turned out that the woman was named Judy, and she had previously lived in Unazuki for a while instructing teachers in Montessori education. When she's in America (about three months out of the year), she lives less than a mile away from my dad's condo downtown. Of all the art museums in all the towns in all the world, she came walking into that one.
I don't know what the odds of this happening are, but I'd place a bet on them being astronomically low.
感想 (かんそう) Reflection
Since I've been working on this post for almost two weeks already, I'm going to bring it to a close.
I think passion is amazing. It drives people to create beautiful things just because they want to--just because they like doing it. Who knows how much time each of the Mozart performers have put into their art to get where they are now. Most of them have been playing instruments since they were in elementary school, if not even earlier. One of the solo pianists said that she practices for two or three hours every day.
(2.5 hours per day X 365 days a year X probably 15+ years = 13,688+ hours)
When you consider that most of these people are not professionals (meaning they have a day job that helps with things like eating and paying rent) that number seems impossible. The thing about passion, though, is that it's not a sacrifice. The joy their dedication brings them is more than enough justification for the time and energy they put into it.
Having never played an instrument (other than my own angelic vocal cords, of course), I love being around people who do. Like a cat soaking in the sun, watching someone interact with their passion in such a direct way lets me vicariously feel their adrenaline and joy. The world is filled with so many terrible things--sometimes it's nice to be reminded that there are people out there who dedicate their lives to making it more lovely, if only for a few hours a day.
I think passion is amazing. It drives people to create beautiful things just because they want to--just because they like doing it. Who knows how much time each of the Mozart performers have put into their art to get where they are now. Most of them have been playing instruments since they were in elementary school, if not even earlier. One of the solo pianists said that she practices for two or three hours every day.
(2.5 hours per day X 365 days a year X probably 15+ years = 13,688+ hours)
When you consider that most of these people are not professionals (meaning they have a day job that helps with things like eating and paying rent) that number seems impossible. The thing about passion, though, is that it's not a sacrifice. The joy their dedication brings them is more than enough justification for the time and energy they put into it.
Having never played an instrument (other than my own angelic vocal cords, of course), I love being around people who do. Like a cat soaking in the sun, watching someone interact with their passion in such a direct way lets me vicariously feel their adrenaline and joy. The world is filled with so many terrible things--sometimes it's nice to be reminded that there are people out there who dedicate their lives to making it more lovely, if only for a few hours a day.