A buddy and I stood outside Roy Thomson Hall for two hours on Saturday. We stood where the map is centered, a bit north of Wellington near the left octagonal structure. The line had run out the entrance, out Simcoe, along King, down the east side of the concert hall, and down the stairs to where we were. It would eventually snake back north towards King, and go around the oval back down towards Wellington, behind that left octagonal thing.
And despite the line, I think pretty much everyone got in. At least those who were in line when the doors opened. There were still people arriving at 3 pm thinking that no one would be there because, you know, it’s only Oscar Peterson and it’s only a free concert.
They gave out tickets. Tickets! It seemed like overkill, even if it was just to make sure people didn’t steal seats. I’m keeping that and the program guide as collector’s items.
I sat in the balcony, house-left. Decent view, with the left side being blocked only when people rose to give standing ovations. A black and white close up of Oscar Peterson hung at the center on a large projection screen. A large portrait photo with his daughter Celine at 5 years old during a London concert sat on the left beside his Dusseldorf grand piano. Another grand piano, a drum kit, amps for bass and electric guitar was on the right. A microphone was at the centre for soloists and tall microphone stands were at the back for the choir at the end.
The choir was sitting in the choir lofts (where we sat for Firebird) for about a third or so of the concert, then disappeared to warm up.
As for the concert, you can decide for yourself, since CBC Radio 2 is hosting the concert audio, but do it within a year since that’s the hosting length. I’m not that into jazz, but pro performers are pro performers.
In terms of mood, the concert was generally sombre. The playing of OP’s 1985 Berlin performance was the most energetic point, and no one ever matched that going forward, opting for more reflective pieces.
On that note, Herbie Hancock’s piano performance was decidedly non-jazz. It was…Impressionism almost, but he ventured into the realm of atonality or just really complicated polyharmony that I didn’t grasp. The amount of audience coughs was noticeably higher and I don’t think it was that enthusiastically received.
He burned us electrical engineers, though. Burned us good. It was his major until he decided to become follow OP’s footsteps. If it wasn’t for a record he’d heard that had OP as pianist, he would have wound up as “just another electrical/electronics engineer.”
:/
You’re not supposed to record the concert or take photographs, but that didn’t stop anybody. Some guy had a compact video recorder out during the performances, the guy beside me had a small digital camera.
The flashes really came out when Herbie stepped on stage. I understand why, but it’s still disrespectful. The man took a red-eye flight (and then had to leave right after his performance) not to wave to his fans and have them photograph him.
The concert was supposed to be about 2 hours long and wound up closer to 2.5. On the subway trip home some obviously drunk guy got on at Bloor and sat beside us, where he proceeded to talk to himself and to us even though we didn’t reply. Maybe he imagined us talking back? He almost exclusively muttered and was generally incomprehensible. Drunk at 7 in the evening, ’nuff said. My friend noted it was a small miracle that he knew to get off at Davisville.
Tags: music, toronto, ttc
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