The girl and the stage
When I boarded the elevator in my building around 11 o' clock on the Sunday morning of a long holiday weekend, a mother and three children were already on. I could tell they were not residents, partly because I’d never seen them, but mostly from their shared excitement; they were going somewhere.
And dressed for it; each was in a new outfit. They were young enough that Maman chose: coordinated tees and shorts for the six and eight year old boys, a ditsy-flowered skirt and pink cardigan for the girl, about ten. They were a good stretch from adolescence, when their slouching-S postures will sag under hoodies. They looked like a catalog page: The boys’ ball caps were pristine; the girl’s braids firm and precise.
They’re not from here, I thought, noticing the careful ensembles and alert cheer. Maman spoke to them with calm precision. “We will have lunch with them”, she said, “ and after that, the theatre.”
This word floats past the boys, but “theatre” electrifies the girl. Her already large blue eyes widen with a pleasure pulled straight from her heart. She’s living for this, I thought.
I wanted to ask what they were seeing, but it didn't matter. (A guess: Cirque du Soleil's "Alegria".)
I felt grateful that the mother brought her children to a stage; live shows are now eclipsed by digital entertainment. I wanted the girl to have her thrill when the orchestra tunes up, the curtain lifts. The brothers, too—but it was she who counted the hours.
I was that girl once, taken from a small town with no year-round theatre or concert hall, for an annual trip to Chicago, where we would see a play or ballet—and once, at my mother's whim, an 11 p.m. cabaret performance. (The chanteuse was so surprised to see a child that she visited our table to ask what I was doing up. "Drinking a Shirley Temple, same as you", Mom retorted, eyeing her highball.)
'Patron of the arts' is a quaint term, partly because of high prices for live performance versus the broadcast and online options. Montréal still offers opportunities for reasonably-priced performances, and in summer, the city is studded with festivals from baroque to electronica to traditional Quebec dance and music. At the market, a young dancer handed me a flyer for the Festival Quartiers Danses, in September,
Montréal's famous Jazz Festival begins June 27; a friend's coming. We bought tickets for a few concerts, but the many free stages will bring our average price per show way down.
An abundance of the performing arts (especially when affordable) makes people happier. I can't prove it, but see it on faces when a crowd gathers, whether for the annual free opera in my street at the close of Italian Week or a subway-station jug band.
At each roll-down of the Passage's shutters, I like to make a wish, and this summer's is that you, too, will take take a young person to a live, local performance, something you think she'd like.
I'm guessing you already have an idea!
And dressed for it; each was in a new outfit. They were young enough that Maman chose: coordinated tees and shorts for the six and eight year old boys, a ditsy-flowered skirt and pink cardigan for the girl, about ten. They were a good stretch from adolescence, when their slouching-S postures will sag under hoodies. They looked like a catalog page: The boys’ ball caps were pristine; the girl’s braids firm and precise.
They’re not from here, I thought, noticing the careful ensembles and alert cheer. Maman spoke to them with calm precision. “We will have lunch with them”, she said, “ and after that, the theatre.”
Photo: Cirque du Soleil |
I wanted to ask what they were seeing, but it didn't matter. (A guess: Cirque du Soleil's "Alegria".)
I felt grateful that the mother brought her children to a stage; live shows are now eclipsed by digital entertainment. I wanted the girl to have her thrill when the orchestra tunes up, the curtain lifts. The brothers, too—but it was she who counted the hours.
I was that girl once, taken from a small town with no year-round theatre or concert hall, for an annual trip to Chicago, where we would see a play or ballet—and once, at my mother's whim, an 11 p.m. cabaret performance. (The chanteuse was so surprised to see a child that she visited our table to ask what I was doing up. "Drinking a Shirley Temple, same as you", Mom retorted, eyeing her highball.)
'Patron of the arts' is a quaint term, partly because of high prices for live performance versus the broadcast and online options. Montréal still offers opportunities for reasonably-priced performances, and in summer, the city is studded with festivals from baroque to electronica to traditional Quebec dance and music. At the market, a young dancer handed me a flyer for the Festival Quartiers Danses, in September,
Photo: La Presse |
An abundance of the performing arts (especially when affordable) makes people happier. I can't prove it, but see it on faces when a crowd gathers, whether for the annual free opera in my street at the close of Italian Week or a subway-station jug band.
At each roll-down of the Passage's shutters, I like to make a wish, and this summer's is that you, too, will take take a young person to a live, local performance, something you think she'd like.
I'm guessing you already have an idea!
Comments
Then I had the joy of taking my sons to the theatre - having a teenaged hockey player absolutely enthralled by Greek tragedy written millenia ago, sitting on the edge of his seat as the chorus lamented the fate of Oedipus, was a wonderful experience for me.
Now I take my grand daughters to the pantomime and Christmas shows.
Mme Là- bas: Some organization allow donors to designate the focus of their donations, such as youth programs or school perfromance programs.
fmc: Wonderful, both the parents’ initiative and the smile of an enraptured 4 year old.
Maria: We pass love of the arts on, a profound gift.
Kamchick: Wonderful memories of the Toronto Children’s Theatre. What a treat you have given your family.
LauraH: I was thinking of you twi as I wrote this!
sensitive poet: Yes! I had same experience when we dragged the blasé 14 yr olds to “ Amadeus”... Mozart. They were hanging on every word and still talk about it eighteen years later. How wonderful to begin the rituals again with your granddaughters.
He has seen Yo-Yo Ma's performance in the Montreal subway as part of his Bach Project. He sat in $200 seats for an OSM concert (students of the musicians get them for $20!). Montreal has a wealth of opportunities to hear music. I must plug college music programs. Recitals, master classes, ensembles of every genre. Many of them free. And these young people are talented and passionate about their music. -Lily