Small Moment: A Glittering Evening

In a few hours, my husband and the other musicians of the Central Ohio Symphony will take the stage for the March concert, which is always held on a Sunday afternoon. Two guest artists, violinist Simón Gollo and violist Randolph Kelly, will play the Mozart Sinfonia Concertante for violin, viola, and orchestra. Right now, Simón, who stayed with us for the weekend, is upstairs warming up before he and Warren head to the concert venue. I'll follow in a few hours.

For the last two days, Simón  and Randolph sat in our percussion room, emptied of its timpani, and played together, working out the rhythms and pairings that two virtuoso performers need to share to put on a stellar performance. So all weekend I have had the supreme pleasure of listening to world-class musicians work together, collaborate together, compare techniques and approaches on this measure or that passage, laugh together, and fill the rooms of this house with exquisite sounds.

Last night Warren and I hosted Simón , Randolph, and Randolph's wife Barbara in our home for a small, informal dinner. (Dinner followed a two-hour rehearsal in the percussion room.) The meal was simple and delicious, there was homemade apple pie for dessert, and the five of us sat and laughed and talked and shared our lives for two hours. Randolph especially had many, many orchestra stories to tell, as he is ending four decades of a stellar orchestral career. Conductor and musician names were sprinkled liberally throughout, most of whom I had only the vaguest idea of the person. Some of his stories centered around his relationship with "André," and he was well into several emotional stories about his last conversations with "André" before I realized "André" was André Previn.

Even I know who André Previn was. Those are the kind of stories shared last night.

 Our talk ranged far and wide, from instruments to music to childhood memories to tomatoes to, yes, end of life.

It was a glittering evening of good talk and good laughter and good fellowship.

And good pie. There is always good pie at the heart of it all in this house.