I’m back in California after staying with my sister Deanna and her family for a few days in their home near Boston while I read from Mamalita at two Borders Bookstores and the Beverly Public Library. Being home with my own family is wonderful, but it means I’m on a coast opposite from my sister. That’s never easy.
But we have great memories, one of which was attending the annual Holiday Pops Concert performed by the Melrose Symphony Orchestra. Founded in 1918, the Melrose bills itself as the “oldest continuously performing volunteer orchestra in the United States.” The company is headquartered in Melrose’s downtown Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Hall, a splendid building dedicated in 1912 to honor veterans of the Civil War. The Hall’s grand pipe organ, dedicated in 1919, commemorates those who served during the World War I.
The program included selections from the Nutcracker, and as Tchaikovsky’s famous melodies wafted over us, I visualized scenes from the many, many Nutcracker productions I’d seen and heard during my lifetime. One that stood out featured my sister Deanna dressed in a pink tulle skirt in the Waltz of the Flowers, performing at our mother’s annual dance recital. Later, as Deanna and I discussed our impressions, my sister said that one was most vivid for her, too. We both wished Mom had been with us.
I was impressed with the Symphony’s arrangement of “The Little Drummer Boy,” akin to Ravel’s Bolero. The arrangement reinforced the notion that even a tune as familiar as Drummer Boy can be interpreted in new and different ways, something to remember when approaching a philosophical question. Such is the power of music, at least for me. One’s mind wanders, in a way that is good.
I loved visiting my sister and her family. Deanna, I miss you already.
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