OF THE WORLD!
A terrific week at work, and now I'm off early on Friday, so's I can A) talk to (with?) you about the Fringe, and B) rehearse for my bass clarinet gigs tomorrow. (And, OK, C) talk up my bass clarinet gigs, too, he said shamelessly.)
When last we spoke, I promised to tell you about my encounter with Leslie Ball, chanteuse extraordinaire. Now, I first interacted with Leslie at the Southern Theater, one year ago, during the 2003 Fringe Previews at Leslie Ball's Midnight Cabaret at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis. I'll bet many of you know this eclectic, offbeat cabaret far better than I do -- Leslie has been hosting it nearly every weekend for nigh on thirteen years now. I had heard about it, and had been hoping to be able to stay up late enough to take it in sometime or other. But it was the prospect of being able to preview excerpts from local (one week) and out-of-town (the next week) Fringe productions that pushed me into taking the plunge last July.
I found Leslie to be a warm, gracious, casual, friendly host of these cabarets. She warned the newcomers in the audience that, if we were hoping to one day bring our own unpolished, un-juried acts to her Cabaret stage, and were intimidated by the quality of the Fringe previews, that we should bear in mind that these were unusually high-caliber acts (at which the Fringe actors present guffawed loudly). We were then entertained by brief snippets of several shows, which served to get us salivating for the upcoming Fringe immersion, and gave us some ideas on shows we'd like to see in full. This was a terrific service, one that continues this year (more on that later).
It was several months before I returned to a "normal" weekend at Leslie's cabaret. I started going again in late May 2004, with the notion of eventually dipping my own toe in the water and trying out a couple of bass clarinet solos on the stage. I eventually did this, twice in June, and was rewarded with a warm welcome by Leslie, the rest of the staff, and the audience. These visits confirmed my initial impressions of Leslie, andI was happy to be able to talk with her and bask in the glow of her humanity and her optimism. I even heard her sing a little, when she performed on stage one night with Ochen K. Nice voice!
BUT... all that did little to prepare me for the absolutely ecstatic experience I had last Thursday, being washed over and enveloped by her tender, tough, playful, earnest, broken, healed, spiritual voice as she put on a full performance at the Dakota in Minneapolis. Accompanied by local standout musicians Dean McGraw (guitar), Peter Schimke (piano), Anthony Cox (bass) and Kevin Washington (drums), she offered us a local music love-fest that lasted four hours, and left my wife and me floating several feet off the ground as we departed, arms wrapped around each other, marvelling at the experience we had just had. Leslie, THANK YOU for sharing yourself with us. You're a hell of a songwriter, a hell of a participator/oberver/chronicler of this sweet mess we call life, and you have a damn fine group of musicians that you count among your friends!
I took lots of hasty notes in the dark during that wonderful performance, but not too many to be fully in the moment with Leslie and everyone else (including Ochen K, who provided Leslie and us with some sweet, ad hoc(!) accompaniments on acoustic guitar and accordion). As I look over those notes, now, and think back to that evening, and recall some of her lyrics, I feel myself choking up with emotion. Damn it, Leslie, Big Boys Don't Cry! Well, I'm much better off having got shut of that foolish notion.
"I will not whisper,
Will not hide,
Will not keep this thing inside.
But listen up everyone:
I'm not leaving 'til I'm done!"
Leslie, you're beautiful -- from your head, to your heart, to your face, to your voicebox, to your gut and your soul.
And your Cabaret embodies the spirit of the Fringe, which I'm here to testify about. More on that later -- I need to take a breather.
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