No, I did not go to the Bryan Adams concert at Mile One
Stadium on Friday. No, I did not
go to the Steve Dawson concert at the LSPU Hall yesterday evening. Yes, I was at the Coffee House
Fundraiser at the Gower Street United Church. And finally, yes I will be at the fundraising concert
tonight for the Quintessential Vocal Ensemble. If I can get two good things done at once and still have
fun, that's the way I roll. Every
time I choose to spend money I ask myself, "is this the best choice?"
Not that we have to always spend money is our fair city of
St. John's to enjoy quality art of all manner of descriptions. The music crawls that occurred
yesterday afternoon as part of the Lawnya Vawnya festival are just one fine
example. I held a door yesterday
for a man toting a double bass and overheard the conversation he was having
with a musician colleague. I
gathered the bass player was visiting and the other chap was a local. "Things are different here,"
the bassist, said, "It's the quality." "Oh, that's because we all go to each other's concerts
here" was the explanation his host offered. This weekend the musical offerings are so rich that you
would be excused if you complained of musical indigestion.
And to think, this came on the heels of Independent Record
Store Day that fell on last weekend.
So, we were treated to more free concerts at Fred's Record Store in
downtown, St. John's.
The concert I attended last evening featured nine acts who
had all generously donated their talents in support of the Louis Jones-Bernard
& Riley Anderson-Fowlow Memorial Scholarship Fund. I know it did us all good to be able to
participate in something productive after the tragic death of these two young
men. I am a staunch believer in
both the professionalism of art and in art-for-art's sake. However, I would be foolish not to
acknowledge the healing power of art both in the lives of individuals and the
community.
It can happen on the most basic of levels. One grueling morning dragging ourselves
through the Toronto airport during the Christmas rush just after dawn my then
seven year old son was stopped by security. It was on account of the instrument he had surrendered to
the x-ray machine. Andrew
explained it was a viola. The
technician did not know what that was.
Andrew offered to demonstrate, to play. And in a matter of seconds the airport security area was
filled with a heart felt rendition of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the Air
Canada lady, applause from the attentive public was spontaneous. The jittery, cranky crowd was
transformed. I looked down at my
son (I could still do that back then) and said, "And that Andrew is why we
need music."