Well, if you decide you need a live-in-piano-exerciser once or twice a year, call me. I can sleep in the piano. No problem. THrow me a bone every night. No, wait, make that a carrot. (Sorry grainne!)
I used to sing under Edwarta Mata with the Dallas Symphony Chorus, and during Beethoven's Ninth, which is violently Germanic, he would yell at us, IF THE PERCUSSION SECTION DOESN"T NEED A TOWEL, YOU AREN'T BIG ENOUGH! And you could see all the poor drummers cringing and pulling their necks into their collars, trying to lean away from us.
I haven't seen Rent yet, and feel very remiss. The last show I saw in NY was Contact which was a big dance musical, and the amount of sweat dripping onto the floor was amazing. They should have had danceboys, like the ballboys in basketball who run out with towels and wipe up the floor.
They are so graceful and beautiful and controlled, and sitting up close you can see their muscles vibrating with tension. Gorgeous, gorgeous bodies.
People can laugh at woosie artists, but performance is hard work. |
