A Wonderful kNight

Words cannot express my current emotions. So let me just tell you about my day...

Woke up really early to eat before hunting for the Barbican Centre. It didn't take as long as I thought it would to find, though, so I showed up 45 minutes before the rehearsal started. Doors didn't open until 10 minutes `til. I asked, and was allowed to take pictures "before the program starts." No matter, that didn't stop me from taking a couple action shots...Oh, how I wish my computer worked so I could post them...maybe in Scotland.

After eating lunch, I came back here and slept for 3 hours. I still don't understand why I'm so tired. No matter, I awoke in time to take 30 minutes to decide what to wear and, again, arrive to Barbican Hall 30 minutes before I was supposed to get there (that's even after taking 2 wrong turns and having to backtrack).

It was not difficult at all to find Monir and Michel (creators of hberlioz.com). Dinner was lovely (thank you!). Conversation flowed from Berlioz to the States to Berlioz to politics to Berlioz. Nothing to complain about, at all! I'm happy to have heard that Monir also thinks Sir Colin looks like Berlioz- I knew I wasn't all crazy.

Concert. To give you a picture of how close to the stage I was (aside from the illegal one I took): when I crossed my legs, my feet touched the stage. I could reach out and touch it with my back against the chair. I could tell that Mr. Oboe's socks were actually navy blue. I heard the clank when Sir Colin accidentally hit his baton on the metal guard (but then, I'm sure everyone could). I contemplated taking 1 or 2 of the 4 hairs Mr. First Violin lost during Harold in Italy for my scrapbook, but restrained myself.

I made my way to the backstage artists' entrance door as the players did the same. Mr. Security Guard blocked the door and wouldn't let me through. Some nice violin player said, "she's with me," and I was taken through by him. "Now, you're not a terrorist, right? That's his dressing room. If you go through that door now, you can avoid the crowd." And, thus, I entered the Conductor's Green Room.

There He was, sitting in his chair, smiling and talking away to a couple. When they left, I approached, drawing and baton in hand. "I spoke to Miss Glaister...." "You must be Ashley." *shocked* "You're from the states and you love music." "...yes!"

I presented him with the gifts, he was smiley and thanked me.

After two people butted in and started chatting with him nonstop, I stood to the side and waited. But then his son, granddaughter, and wife came in, so I waited some more.

Peace, at last. I stepped forward, camera in hand, and inquired as to whether or not I could ask some questions. I asked if I could record them, and he replied with something witty about not going anywhere. And so I did. Again, how I wish my computer would pick up the internet. A quick picture, and then....I got lost backstage. Luckily, a violinist was on his way out. "Pardon me, but how do I get out of here?" "You have to practice a lot." Darn witty musicians.

Monir and Michel were waiting outside the door (also had a run-in with Mr. Security Guard: apparently he almost didn't let Lady Davis and the son/granddaughter duo backstage, either).

Summary: ---

I will be waking up at about 4:30/5 tomorrow morning to find King's Cross and head up to Scotland. I don't know how the internet thing will go there, so no promises until Saturday. Check, though, just in case.

I'm going to go attempt to sleep, now.