What I'm about to say may shock you. It's certainly throwing me a bit, to imagine this statement coming out of my own mouth, but I've said it, and I won't take it back, despite the appalling lack of patriotism that is revealed.
Let me explain.
This afternoon, we went to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra, at the Air Canada Centre. Oh my. What a show.
The music ... the lights ... the pyro ... the passion ... the creativity. Our socks were knocked off, as one reviewer promised.
This, my friends, is what the classical composers surely felt when they wrote their symphonies. Not the tightly controlled groupings, sitting in perfect semi-circular rows, with not an ounce of emotion to be seen, polished and pure. No, no.
This was raw passion, powerful and crashing, unrestrained ferocity sweeping through musicians who ran and leaped and hurled themselves from one place to another while they played with abandon. You wondered wildly if the music, which had swelled to become a living entity greater than any of the participants, would continue, even if they did not. How could anyone stay in their seat, observing this all-encompassing spectacle of sound and lights with calm detachment?
Which brings me to my shocking statement.
Because it appears that, in Canada, we are quite capable of staying reserved and calm, even when it is unnecessary. The crowd in the ACC tonight applauded politely, for a proper amount of time, nodding earnestly every now and then. We should have been on our feet, roaring with delight, laughing as the music swept over us.
And so...I must tell you... I certainly WILL see the Trans Siberian Orchestra again. But when I do - it may not be in Canada, where dignity is a highly-rated virtue. It may just be in a southern land where passionate performances are loudly cheered, where the whole crowd joins in the exhilaration.
And when it is over, I will put my socks neatly back on my feet, breathe deeply, and return to my beloved homeland with patriotic dignity.
Let me explain.
This afternoon, we went to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra, at the Air Canada Centre. Oh my. What a show.
The music ... the lights ... the pyro ... the passion ... the creativity. Our socks were knocked off, as one reviewer promised.
This, my friends, is what the classical composers surely felt when they wrote their symphonies. Not the tightly controlled groupings, sitting in perfect semi-circular rows, with not an ounce of emotion to be seen, polished and pure. No, no.
This was raw passion, powerful and crashing, unrestrained ferocity sweeping through musicians who ran and leaped and hurled themselves from one place to another while they played with abandon. You wondered wildly if the music, which had swelled to become a living entity greater than any of the participants, would continue, even if they did not. How could anyone stay in their seat, observing this all-encompassing spectacle of sound and lights with calm detachment?
Which brings me to my shocking statement.
Because it appears that, in Canada, we are quite capable of staying reserved and calm, even when it is unnecessary. The crowd in the ACC tonight applauded politely, for a proper amount of time, nodding earnestly every now and then. We should have been on our feet, roaring with delight, laughing as the music swept over us.
And so...I must tell you... I certainly WILL see the Trans Siberian Orchestra again. But when I do - it may not be in Canada, where dignity is a highly-rated virtue. It may just be in a southern land where passionate performances are loudly cheered, where the whole crowd joins in the exhilaration.
And when it is over, I will put my socks neatly back on my feet, breathe deeply, and return to my beloved homeland with patriotic dignity.
