Ann Arbor

Nancy and I spent (I'm guessing here) about 7 hours playing guitar and singing on the streets at the Ann Arbor art fair on Friday and Saturday. I will provide you with the highlights of the adventure that brought about nasty nasty blisterycalluses on the fingertips of my right hand, making it very painful to type, play trumpet and piano, and anything else that involves pressure there.

We started Friday out with a little photoshoot in a graffiti-bedecked alley. 'Twas fun. The cop who walked by was probably really confused. Nancy jumped higher than I did. I blame my choice of footwear.

In location number 2 (sitting on a curb) on Day 1 of our experiment, a mother, father, and young daughter stood and listened for a while. Eventually, the mother came up to us with her arm around her daughter. "She has a request....you'll never guess what it is." "Whatever it is, we most likely can't play it." "Hannah Montana." Nancy: "No...but I've seen her brother in concert!" Mother: "She doesn't like boys, she's 6!" So we told her we'd just play a happy song for her. Mama stood there smiling a huge smile, bouncing and singing along with the chords.

In Location 3, which proved to be the hot spot, a guy and his daughter stood and listened for a while as we played a Bob Dylan song. "You know who wrote that?" "Bob Dylan..." "You know what her name is?" "....Dylan?" Then he said yes, stood there for a second, and walked away without giving us a tip. Jerk. While playing the same song in the same spot at a different time, an old guy informed us that "That song was played in that very spot in the 60s to protest the war."

On Day 2, an email forward rolled up in front of us in his motor scooter to listen for a while. Then he smiled and pulled a laminated sheet with the alphabet and some words on it (no, yes, thank you, etc). He gave that to Nancy to hold, then pulled out another with his life story on it. He was a Vietnam vet who had a bunch of lousy things happen to him, eventually causing him to not be able to speak. He told us (by pointing to letters on the sheet) that he could hear our singing. I think he was trying to convert us to Christianity or something, as he made us read a big long prayer, too.

Also on Day 2, a creepy blues musician guy sat down on the other end of the step thing as Nancy and I played behind her mom's booth in our own little amphitheater. He listed to several songs, then told us how great we were- that we sounded like the Everly Brothers with our great harmonies. "But can I give you a quick free lesson?" Then told us to be loud. When he finally left, he shouted at us to keep being good or something. Creeper. Another toothless creeper gave us a couple dollars. I told Nancy perhaps he should keep it to buy teeth.

A friend of mine from BG was wandering around town playing in a New Orleansy jazz band. I happened to see another BG friend between 2 tents, causing me to throw my guitar and Nancy and go running before he disappeared. A professor walked by and listened, as well.

I bought art for the first time, ever, yesterday! It was a wonderful way to start out the day. I felt like I had really contributed to my past choice of future profession. It's super super super nerdy. It's a little etching of a wooden boat alone on water. Words above and below read, "A Picture of a Dory in Gray." The title is "Literary Punishment." Emphasis on the PUNishment. I'd have gotten a different one had I not just finished reading the book 2 days before.

I helped 3 people take down and load up their tents yesterday. I'm STILL exhausted, even though I slept for 11 hours. I'm sure I'm missing something in this story, but you get the picture. It was a great weekend!

Last Day in NYC.

The Rutter concert was unbelievable. Carnegie Hall is ridiculous, especially with one choir of 175 and a second of at least 250. For once I had NO PROBLEMS getting backstage! The ushers were friendly in pointing me in the right direction and the house manager walked me to the elevator, called it for me, and told me how to get to his suite. When he saw me still standing there a bit later, he realized the elevator had been locked before as they were taking Rutter up, so he called it again and told the worker inside that I was to meet with the conductor. She knocked for me and waited around to see that all was well. When the door finally opened, a little old woman had wandered to the door. Mr. Rutter made a *hold on* face at me and talked with the woman for a while in the suite.

As I waited outside, a boy from one of the choirs came up and asked the stagehands if he was allowed to ask for an autograph. I told him he could go ahead of me. "Do you know Mr. Rutter personally?" Ugh. Little boy had to run off, though, so I resumed my 2nd in line position.

The door eventually opened again. A transcription of the conversation as I remember it will follow. I was going to ask to record it, as I want to remember the advice he gave me, but he was so easy to talk to I didn't find a moment to turn my camera on!

R: That was Virginia, the orchestra's director.
A: I'm Ashley Donaldson. I met Nick in Chicago, but for some reason he's not speaking to me now.
R: I'm sure Nick will speak to you again. He's just very busy right now. He's thinking about starting college in October. And he's going on an orchestra tour this summer in Greece. *sits at table and picks up a pen, so I get my drawing out. He stands up and takes it to look at it* Oh, you drew a picture of Nick! Is this me?
A: Yes; could you please sign it for me?
R: *sits back down*
A: I've never been to a concert here, before. The hall is amazing!
R: Oh, I'll write where we are. It's the 29th, right? So do you go to school?
A: Yes, I actually want to be a conductor.
R: Is that so? I find it to be very time consuming. Not nearly as much as composing, but I don't do too much of it. *by this time, he's wandering around the room packing*
A: Do you have any advice?
R: Study the music to get it just how you want it.
A: That's just what Colin Davis said.
R: You met Colin Davis? At school or a masterclass?
A: No, I actually went backstage at the Barbican. I was in London in December.
R: (something like:) He's a definitive conductor.
A: Nick and I both went backstage at the Chicago Symphony.
R: Oh, yes. Nick mentioned that. You met John Eliot Gardiner. He's a very temperamental man. But I guess you can be that way when you have your own group. He has the Monteverdi Choir.
A: Actually, he was with the Chicago Symphony that night.
R: Oh, then I'm sure that he was on his best behavior....which is still bad. He's been known to make sopranos cry, which I don't recommend. So, are you interested in choir or...
A: Orchestra.
R: What instruments do you play:
A: Trumpet and piano.
R: I recommend a string instrument. After all, they are the largest group in the orchestra. You have to know enough about each instrument to understand how to get them to play what you want. I'd also recommend singing with a choir. Well, I wouldn't be too worried about Nick.
A: Could I please get a quick picture?
R: Oh, yes! *walks towards door, stops suddenly* Actually, I'm not allowed picture back here. *pulls out phone* I'll have to find someone who's not official.
A: I can take it myself.
R: That would be wonderful. *walks to corner of the room in which there was a piano at one side and a bust in the corner* This'll be fun. That's Toscanini! 1, 2, 3...

I thanked him, asked him to at least say hi to his son for me, and left in the rain, only to walk by Radio City to see that Eddie Izzard was sold out for the night. Back to Kier's to shower, eat, and get my things. And that was that. In short, the trip I dreaded beyond all others was a success.

Deja vu?

While sitting at this computer, a tall blonde British guy (named Jan, I later learned) asked me to watch his things for him. My first contact with Nick Rutter was when he asked me to watch his things in the hostel for him. In London, the only person I wandered around with was a girl named Shelly from Australia. Today I ended up wandering around with Jan and a girl named Sally from Australia. Strange, no?

The 3 of us hunted all over the place for "Central Perk" cafe from Friends, but to no avail. It was quite enjoyable to watch Jan ask virtually every type of person to help us on our journey. Sally eventually went off to meet a friend, so Jan and I headed towards Liberty Island. The line was far too long, so we continued on to Little Italy via Chinatown. From there, we walked to Times Square to get "cheap" tickets to Curtains. Boo for (still) expensive tickets, but yay for seeing David Hyde Pierce (Niles from Fraiser)!

I need to leave here pretty soon to head down to the West Village to drop my bag off at Kier's. Time is going to be tight. I'm supposed to meet him at 7 and the show starts at 8. I'm supposed to be meeting Jan back here at the hostel soon, but if he's not here before 6:30, I'm going to have to just meet him at the theatre.

I don't expect internet time again until I get home. The Rutter concert is tomorrow at 2 at Carnegie. A very interesting conversation will surely follow the music...I'll let you in on it ASAP.

sittin'.

Kier had to be in to work 2 hours earlier than he thought, so I'm sitting back in the lounge of the hostel, again. I don't really want to wander around too much as my feet still hurt quite a lot. I'm probably just going to sit around in here where it's cool for a while. I had the most amazing plain bagel with cream cheese this morning.

Yup. Going to surf the web for 9 minutes and 24 seconds now.

Come and Meet...

those aching feet. I walked about 120 blocks today, which is about 12 miles. 110th to 103rd to Central Park, through part of the park up to the south end of it, where I walked over to 5th Ave, all the way to 45th, up Times Square to the 50th St. Subway which I took to 86th St., walked across the park on 81st St., walked around in the Met., met Kier at 91st St., walked to 70somethingth to eat, to the subway, to the hostel. Then I stood in line to check in for 40 minutes. You do the math.

As for the bus ride....it left 40 minutes late, arrived at Cleveland in time for us to run directly to the next bus when we got there, left Pittsburgh an hour late, and the bus driver was 20 minutes late on another stop. Still, we *somehow* managed to make it to NYC only 10 minutes past the scheduled time of 8:50 AM. Oh, how I wish I'd have gotten an earlier train back (11:15 PM Sunday night...ugh).

Now for the happier side of things. I took some nice pictures in Central Park. There were rose petals in the shape of a peace sign on the mosaic at Strawberry Fields. Exciting.

I walked down a street of piano shops where I played a pretty nifty Steinway. Got my picture taken with the Naked Cowboy! "You're alone? Well, that changes things!" Then I walked up to the Hello, Deli and gave Rupert a drawing. I told him I'd send him one when I had him sign one for me in March of 2007. He wasn't in there when I first went in, but the co-owner woman cooed all over it (but pointed out things that were slightly different in him from when the pic was taken and had me change them).

Before going into the Met, I sat outside and drew for a while. It was nice to get off my feet. Kier just happened to be at a museum a few blocks away from me when I called him from the Met, so I walked down and met him. The National Design Museum (they had a big Rococo exhibit). It's pride weekend...and I'm staying with Kier in the West Village...this will be interesting!

I feel like I'm forgetting important things. I guess I'll just have to mention them in my next post.

New Year's

I have tickets to London for New Year's. Leaving Detroit on December 29, arriving at Heathrow on the 30th. Returning on the 8th. Thanks to Ophelie, I have a free place to stay for most of the trip. The LSO won't be playing while I'm there, so I'm partially depressed. But since I won't be living in the Barbican this time, I'll be able to wander around town and do all the things I didn't/forgot about before. Hopefully I'll get to see Emma (coming down from Manchester) for the first time! Nick will hopefully come down from Cambridge at some point, too. I have a job now, so I'll even have spending money.

Chicago

It's not Europe, but it's also not Ohio, so no complaints. The complaint would be that spring break is over before spring even starts.

The bus left Toledo at 1:50 AM. Including the driver the total number of people on the double decker bus came to a whopping 6. We arrived in Chicago an hour less than it should have taken. The driver spent the ride boogieing to Bob Marley. Nancy's aunt let us crash at her downtown apartment at 5 AM.

Upon our eventual awakening, we hit Water Tower Place, then met back up with Nancy's aunt at Puck's in the Museum of Contemporary Art for lunch (thank you, Nancy's aunt!). Wander wander, checked into hostel. Room 1n for Nancy and myself= full of French girls who never checked out. Room 2= full of little kids. Room 3= 2 bunk beds, a "normal" bed, and a tiny TV. Yay for mistakes. But then we had to move again the next day back into the first room they gave us (with room for us, this time).

Wednesday night, while we were sitting in the lobby of the hostel, I joined a British boy in a game of pool. We eventually introduced ourselves, leading to his informing me of the fact that he is an English composer's son. We played what felt like 50 games of pool until the clock struck midnight, when I was presented with a little birthday postcard. More pool and 'foosball', doubles against other British people.

The next day, Nancy, Ryan, Nick (said Brit), and I went to the Field Museum, Art Institute, and Chicago Symphony. After the symphony, Nick and I managed to get backstage after some slight difficulties (I was on the list, but the guard was given the wrong list. A guy eventually came and told her we were all allowed). A man standing outside John Eliot Gardiner's closed reception room door jokingly gave me an unfunnily hard time. I finally made it inside, got a picture, got my picture signed, and was told "good girl, good girl." Nick said, "Hello, I'm Nick Rutter." "Should I know you?" "No, but you probably know my father." etc etc, "You should sing for me sometime." So we both left the backstage area with amusing little comments from John Eliot. A homeless man followed us down the sidewalk, but gave up in confusion after Nick started rattling off German at him.

Another quick game of pool, a goodbye to Nick as he had to leave the hostel (there wasn't a single free bed) for another, bed, wake up, check out, 12 block walk to the bus stop, waiting in the cold, packed ride home. I'd post pictures, but I think I left my memory card converter at school.

I am now sitting in my kitchen with no signs of being able to leave. There is a level 3 snow emergency and a foot of snow. Driving back to BG tomorrow will be exciting.

Testing, testing.

I bet no one will see this until my next trip, but I just wanted to say that I miss keeping up with my travel journal. Any takers on donating to the fund for my next adventure? If you pay for your own ticket, you can come, too!

In case someone does happen to stumble upon this random post, and you haven't had the opportunity to see my scrapbook or pictures, I have included two of my favorites with this post. The first is from the first day in London. It had just stormed seconds before. I love the way the subjects in the photo are the only things highlighted by the sun, just peeking out from behind the dispersing clouds. The other could get a certain member of the Horse Guards fired...dun dun dun! Nonetheless, it's a sweet photo.

Perhaps France is next? Or Austria if I do the summer program in Austria with the German department?

No Time

I don't have enough time to elaborate, nor money to buy more internet, so all I can say is: I went to bed at 8, but couldn't get to sleep until 11. Crazy old woman. Hugh Grant. Bank Manager.

11:23PM, Dayton...

Arrivederci, Londra :'(

I spent the majority of the day with Michelle, my Australian roommate. We went to the National Gallery (go figure...she hadn't been there, yet, though) and took the most touristy pictures possible in phonebooths and at Trafalgar Square. While we were eating lunch (I had a chicken, bacon, and mayo jacket potato), her friend, Ned, also from Australia, met up with us. Strangely, Ned bears a great resemblance to fellow Aussie, Hugh Jackman. When he asked me where I was from, he asked if it was near any big cities. He has actually heard of Toledo. How? The John Denver song, which probably will give him zero desire to visit when he comes to the states in February. After all, Saturday nights in Toledo, Ohio are like being nowhere at all.

The pictures turned out wonderfully, which is good. I had forgotten that the first couple of days are no longer on my camera. I will have to burn them to a CD or order them online when I get back.

I went back to Tea for the third and final time a bit ago. The same 3 people were working every time I stopped in. Every time you have tea and scones with cream and jam it tastes better. This means I will miss that place, a LOT. Panera will not cut it. Panera is also as close to EAT as I will get back home. Too bad.

I don't understand: everything seems to fit in my suitcase better now that it did on the way here. I'm afraid to pick it up, though...Not looking forward to the 45ish minute tube ride all the way over to Heathrow.

It is only a bit past 5, but I am exhausted from all of this walking. It would probably be a good idea for me to go to bed early, anyhow. Maybe if I get up early enough, I can go to St. Paul's again or walk down to the Tower. Whatever, I will have to use my debit card. The only money I have left are the £10 Scottish note I want to keep, money for the tube, and a couple coins to keep. Oh, and 7P. That's it. I guess I did a pretty decent job guessing how much to convert, huh (although I did go out and buy some candy this afternoon. those curly-whirly squirrelies are amazing)?

Again, not sure if I will post tomorrow morning. I will write something a few days after I get back, though- the remaining pictures, etc.

Next trip? Well, Sir Colin will be in Boston on MLKJr weekend...