Excited because he actually told me about the concert this time. (Unbeknownst to me, he excused himself from the Winter Concert, telling the mu sic tea cher he had soccer practice.)
Nervous because...well, to be honest, because Mark has never practiced his cello at home. Not once. I am not proud of that -- it's just that I p a y for drum lessons, so all music time is spent pounding away on the drums. (He practices those every night.)
But Mark was excited to play his cello, which seems much smaller than it was at the beginning of last year, when we bought it. Either the cello is shrinking, or Mark has grown.
I've been to the symphony a few times before. I know the musicians usually spend the pre-show time warming up and tuning their instruments. Unless, of course, they are third- to fifth-graders. Then they spend their warm up time giggling, slapping hands, and just generally trying to forget they are dressed up in uncomfortable clothes.
But once the concert started, it was down to business. Here is Mark the master cellist at work.
It was hilarious to watch him. He played the exact opposite of the two girls on either side of them. Each time their bows went left, Mark's went right. When his bow went left, theirs went right. Instead of a single, fluid movement of bows, it looked more like a cog, all parts spinning in different directions.
But he sounded great! He was mostly well behaved, although once he spied me in the audience, he made silly faces and rubbed his eyes because he knows that drives me crazy. (He was center-stage, too, which made it worse. I gave him the ol' fingers-to-eyes-to-pointing-at-him "I'm watching you" gesture, and he stopped.) He also stopped once mid-song to remove the giant plastic blue pinky ring he was wearing. I'm guessing not a lot of professional cellists sport giant pinky rings during their performances.
After the fourth- and fifth-graders finished, it was time for the third-graders to strut their stuff. The little kid in front of me had his shirt buttoned up all wrong, and kept tugging at it. And the kid next to him was very serious about playing his violin. Except that he forgot to give himself enough space, and spent most of the time smacking the mis-aligned button boy in the head with his violin bow. I finally had to look away to keep from giggling.
I've gotta give props to their music teacher. She is amazing! There must've been 50 kids on the stage and steps, and they listened to her every word. They went from giggly, silly kids goofing around before to perfect musicians, serious and well-practiced, as soon as as she raised her arms. They watched her intently, most faces studied and familiar with the music, some contorted with confusion or perhaps intense concentration, as they followed her arm movements. But they all played the music in sync, on key, perfectly. It was quite impressive.
Almost as impressive was Mark trying to show off his violin skills. No, he does not have a violin. Instead, he picked up his cello and put it up to his shoulder.
"Look, Mom!" he yelled. "I told you I was the strongest kid in the orchestra! And I have the biggest violin!"
And I just smiled. Because I can dress him up, and put him in the orchestra, but he's still the same ol' crazy Mark.
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