Paradise Concerts with Kirtley Leigh
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Libretto

Mothers (and Diamonds) are Forever......

5/28/2016

7 Comments

 
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​How many of you "believe" in Serendipity? I would love to share an amazing story about me and my Mother with you, that still gives me goosebumps of joy and wonder and love.

Wikipedia tells us that "Serendipity is a fortunate happenstance"- not just a matter of a random event, nor can it be taken simply as a synonym for "a happy accident". It is evidently one of the hardest words to translate in our language, such is its wide-ranging meaning.

I think that the serendipitous can play an important role in the search for truth. It has for me, time and time again.

The New Oxford Dictionary of English defines serendipity as "the occurrence and development of events by chance in a satisfactory or beneficial way, understanding the chance as any event that takes place in the absence of any obvious project (randomly or accidentally), which is not relevant to any present need, or in which the cause is unknown."

The first noted use of "serendipity" (meaning pleasant surprise) in the English language was by Horace Walpole (1717–1797). In a letter (1754) he said he formed it from the Persian fairy tale The Three Princes of Serendip, whose heroes "were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of". The name stems from Serendip, an old name for Sri Lanka (Ceylon).
Serendipity is a capacity. The Nobel Prize laureate Paul Flory suggests that significant incidents are not mere accidents.

Several years ago, after the death of my mother, I inherited a ring with 3 diamonds. I cherished that ring. A year later, I looked down, and to my horror discovered that the central diamond was missing. I retraced my steps, but to no avail. I gave up in dismay, and resigned myself to a careless tragedy. I was heartbroken, not only for me, but for the legacy of my mother, and also for the meaningfulness for my own daughters, bereft of family heirlooms that they, too would inherit, and the deeper love and meaning that is transferred upon gifting of such treasures.

Soon, I shall be embarking upon a trip to my "homeland". It is no surprise that, although I have adopted Australian shores and even have become an Aussie citizen, that I am a "Born in the USA" girl through-and-through. My heart is in Georgia, and always will be. I find a resonance when I am in the Deep South.

In a month, I will be traveling to the USA, taking my youngest daughter Raiyah Paine to introduce her to the "clan", and also traveling with my dear Bob Halstead. He, too, will meet as many of my relatives (on both sides of my family), as we can fit into three glorious weeks on both sides of my great country!

Well- it is also not a great secret that for a few long years (that seemed they would never end) I also went through a big trial, and faced many challenges that threatened my spirit of loving life, adventure, people and places. That particular difficult time is behind me now, and I have never been happier. I am finally, getting "Leigh" back, and I feel more grounded in who I am than ever before in my life.

So.....just yesterday, after the USA tickets had been confirmed, I was here, in my bedroom, enjoying my first cup of coffee. I reminisced, and took a cherished photograph off my bedside table. It is a photograph of my Mother, Katy (Catherine Bradley Walker), radiant in her beauty. She is one of my heroes. My dad is my other. I clutched her photo, and the tears gushed as I told her that her daughter was "going home again." I told her I was happy now, and there had recently been closure on incidents that had hurt me in the past. I told her I was happy, and that I was moving on. I told her that I would be ok. (She had always known that, but it felt good to tell her myself, and out loud.). I told her that her youngest granddaughter was going "home" with me too, and that Bob was coming to meet all the Aunts and my dearest, loving "crazy cousins!" She was a receptive audience- Mother always looked regal, even in her most casual times! I felt she was REALLY there with me, and was, somehow hearing me. Maybe I am also a "crazy" cousin! But it felt good, and the tears were healing and gentle. I dried my eyes - (after all, another cup of coffee was in order....), and I jumped out of bed, feeling on top of the world, and happier than I can remember at the thought that we were going "home" again soon.

I went into my ensuite, and saw the turquoise scarf that Mother had bought me the one and only time that she had visited my family here in Australia. We had selected it after a perfect day together in Palm Cove, seven years ago. I had just worn it for the first time since her death. I was annoyed it had fallen to the bathroom floor overnight. As I bent to pick it up, I noticed a glint.

There was Mother's missing diamond.

Serendipity? You decide.
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Mother, I am coming HOME again! I know that's your way of telling me how happy you are for us!
Can't wait to see Y'ALL! California, Georgia, Alabama and Florida, look out, we have our tickets and here we come! Love you all.

7 Comments

I DON'T Get Along Without You Very Well!

5/25/2016

3 Comments

 
When I learned last week that my faithful studio pianist for many years in annual exams was suddenly whisked to the hospital for emergency surgery, my heart went out to Larry for a swift and sure recovery. It left me with a rather last minute dilemma. No accompanist for my string students. Exams loomed.

With only a month to go before exams, the rehearsal time with the pianist becomes crucial. How amazing therefore, that on the very same day that Larry had to cancel, I received a call from dear piano colleague Bill Doolan Kevin Scott. He had moved down to the Gold Coast last year and I thought he was well settled there. How wonderful to get his call saying he was moving back to Cairns and did I have any piano accompaniment work in my studio! Talk about serendipity!

We started working with my students last week and continued today with intensive rehearsals with all the kids from 9am til 6:00 tonight. Kevin is a blessing to the studio and a delight to work with. The day was full, but a day full of music and doing what we love never exhausts us- rather, it fuels us to want more! So....during our brief lunch break, when I suggested to Kevin that we sight read one of my latest favorite tunes, he readily obliged.

I have always adored the swing and croon music of this era a la Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Sarah Vaughan, and of course Ella Fitzgerald. A few months ago I first heard this Hoagy Carmichael tune and fell in love with it's lilt and poignant chord transitions. We had Kyrene Mei Paine record us as we sight read in one raw take, and other than one slightly dodgy "e" that morphed into the more appropriate 'e' flat, ( this is show biz after all and we think we deserve a bit of jazz-inspired artistic License) we think Hoagy might have approved.

So -this is a hearty thank you to dear Kevin for rescuing my studio from our no -pianist emergency, as well as a huge welcome back to my friends! It was bliss to be able to communicate through the music and just well, do what we do.

Here then, as performed on my new French acquisition "The Lily" , is our rendition of the gorgeous song 
"I Get Along Without You Very Well"

But dear Bob Halstead as I know you know the lyrics , you will understand how much I really DO miss you!
3 Comments

Lily's Song

5/25/2016

1 Comment

 
This morning I would love to share an amazing story with you all.

LILY'S SONG

Last month, we headed back to the UK (via Hong Kong and London) to visit Bob Halstead's 92 year old mum. She was in a state nursing home, and our goal was to move her to a better, private nursing home. Lily, however had other ideas. She had three wonderful visits with her 2 sons- Bob and his brother Ric Halstead (and Ric's son James) - and then she passed away quietly in her sleep. We then set about busying ourselves with everything that one has to in such times.

As many will know from your own experiences, it is not only a time of grief, but also full of many organizational and logistical jobs to do. The day before the Funeral, as we all were having lunch, it occurred to the guys that they had somewhat neglected the choice of music for the Funeral. Ric was set, however, as, being a professional jazz saxophonist (based near Noosa), he had found several of his CD recordings in Lily's house from his days as the manager and lead performer at the Hong Kong Jazz Club.

​That in itself is yet another element of this story which makes the serendipity SO amazing, as when I lived and worked as professional violinist in the Hong Kong Philharmonic back in the early 80s, our muso "go-to" club for relaxing after Philharmonic concerts was- you guessed it- the very same HK Jazz Club. I probably heard Ric perform nearly every night for 5 years and we did not know each other until we met through his brother Bob last year! Anyway- Ric selected a few moving and soulful tracks from his CDs for the Funeral and had the Funeral Home prepare them. Meanwhile, Bob remarked to me, "Leigh, I would love you to play violin at the Funeral." Ok....but I did not take my violin with me on this trip, of course not expecting a funeral, and not wanting the hassles in travel it adds these days if not performing. Hmmmmm- the men thought about it. "There MUST be a music shop in Weston Super Mare, how about you head off and go find a violin on loan for tomorrow and we will meet you at close of business on the High Street?" Yeah- right! I will just meander down past Boots the Chemist and Marks and Spencer and Waitrose and find a violin.......

Well, after concerted "I -have -to-find-a-music-shop" inquiry and bemused looks from the heavily rugged-up locals, my wanderings led me to the one and only music shop anywhere in Weston:
Weston Music Shop. I walked in, and spilled out my whole slightly bittersweet tale to the friendly young man who greeted me."We need a violin by tomorrow! It is for a funeral! Do you think you can help me?" The chap (tattooed and with several piercings, perhaps not a day over 22 years old) looked at me in a sort of incredulous way, raised one eyebrow, and quipped, "Sorry love. You see, we don't DO violins here in Weston." I was nearly in tears and wondering how on earth I would be able to solve this dilemma in time for the Funeral. As I was leaving, my friend added, "Hang on! I think there is ONE old violin back in the cupboard....I will grab it." Out came the tell-tale student issue case, complete with dust and broken zipper. Out came the violin, Tapes all over the neck, and sad plastic everywhere. Then- the best part- the bow. Hair was dangling off as my friend wielded it and joined me in looking dismally at our prospects of bringing any musical life to such a poor imitation of an instrument. "It's been here in the cupboard for a few years I think- but have a little go! It just might still "play" " (he offered this last as an almost apologetic consolation). I felt I must at least try. After all, this may be my only chance at anything resembling a violin for the special day.

I drew the bow across the rusty strings, and somehow managed a very tinny rendition of "Meditation from Thais". I grimaced and went to return the violin, knowing it was not possible. Having no violin was better than playing THIS one. I looked up, and my friend was.....well, there were a few tears streaming down his gentle face. "Was it THAT bad?" "Oh, NO- it is only, well, you see, I have never actually heard a violin played in my life before- and especially not live like that, and it is so, so, MOVING! It is beautiful! We cannot let you play that terrible one for the funeral, we have to find a way of getting you another violin, There must be SOME way. I will make it my mission now to help you in every way I can."

I was so touched, so I started crying too. We were a mess, the two of us, but we both then remembered, simultaneously, that there was a poster I had passed on my walk to his shop. "Weston Super Mare Youth Orchestra Concert this Sunday", it had announced. "Quick! Let's go read it again!"

So, we ran out of the music shop, around the corner to the Town Hall, and re-read the poster. "Music Director/Conductor Dennis Cole". My friend nearly shouted in glee- "We will get back to the shop and you can use my internet, Let's Google Dennis Cole. Anything you want or need- I am here to help you solve this!" So- we got on his computer and Google came up with a number for Dennis Cole. I rang it. He answered. Out came my story- this version even longer, as I had to include my detour past the local music shop.

"I find this incredible", Dennis remarked. "You say you are from Cairns and you need a violin tomorrow?" "Yes, that's right." He searched for, and found my website as we spoke. There was a strange sensation as I could hear myself performing over the telephone as Dennis had my violin music streaming from my website as we continued. He was obviously checking me out. "I find this incredible on many counts, Leigh. Firstly, our daughter lives in Cairns, Australia, and she has been estranged from us for many years. Today she just arrived to visit us for the first time in 35 years, and we have just had afternoon tea together in the living room and you just called as we finished. I am overcome with emotion at the chances that your coming from Cairns was a "coincidence." Nothing in life is ever a "coincidence". Secondly- you are a great violinist, asking for loan of a violin. I just sold my violin last week to a top student as I am retiring this Sunday. The poster you saw is to be the final concert of my career. I am retiring after 50 years." "Congratulations!" , I exclaimed- "I am amazed at the "coincidences!" " "In fact", he asked me, " would you be available to conduct a masterclass for my Youth Orchestra this Saturday before their concert? They would benefit greatly from your expertise," "I am so sorry, but I am leaving for London on Saturday with Ric and Bob." "Did you say RIC and BOB? And was I correct in hearing that the Funeral tomorrow is for Lily HALSTEAD?" "Yes........." "Well- now I simple MUST help you, as I first conducted those two boys, Robert and Richard,Halstead, when they played cornet and trumpet in my Weston Youth Orchestra 50 years ago!!!!"

I was incredulous. My punk friend in the music shop was incredulous. Dennis continued: "I am about to give you a phone number. Please realize that I do not pass this out to anyone, but there is a terrific man in the village, Andrew Barrington, that collects violins, He is passionate about his collection, but also very private. In fact, he is the "violin secret" in this city! Here- give him a call, and say Dennis sent you, Please tell him you are a lovely lady violinist and a good friend of mine!"

By this time, my friend in the shop and I were hugging and squealing with delight and amazement. We were doing a little jig together of happiness. I rang Andrew- and the now-famous story had to have another chapter added to it as I relayed all the details up til now to Andrew. I heard my "Lark Ascending" serenade me again over the phone, as this time Andrew was giving me a phone "audition" and listening to my abilities over his computer before he made me any fast promises. I nervously held my breath! He was also amazed that the trail of intrigue lad this far to him! "Come right over, Leigh. Yes I will most certainly love to help you. Lily cannot be without a violin for her day, now, can she?"

I bid my farewells at the Music Shop, and met Ric and Bob. They saw I was empty-handed, and so resigned themselves that there would be no violin for Lily the next day. "No! Drive here- we are going on a violin mystery chase!" Off we went, up a road over a hill, around several bends and down a lane. We arrived at
JPB Music, a quaint shop that was in a converted Coach House from several centuries ago. The plot thickened.

As we greeted Andrew, he led us through into the only kind of room I love more than the stage- a room filled with violins, Everywhere. Perhaps 500? 600? Heaven to me. "Go on- pick one! Anything you like." I chose. I played. I loved what I heard, It was like coming home in a violin sense. Since I felt I must, I then reluctantly put back the first selection, and started randomly choosing other violins and comparing. None touched the very first one I had picked (out of hundreds, remember). I was certain- the initial choice was THE violin to play at the Funeral.

The brothers came in from the next room and agreed. "There was one instrument that stood out from the rest- we are certain of it." So, the violin chosen, Andrew grinned and gave a knowing smile. "You have chosen well!" That is a French violin, about 120 years old." "Please- choose a bow." This I did, and after being presented with a bow case of 100s, also chose (luck? I think not
) a bow that was also French, We got a case, and then went to settle up for the loan. Andrew would take nothing, he would not hear of it. "It is for Lily." "Enjoy."

Off we went. I was happy as a Lark.. That night, I played the violin at a sumptuous Italian restaurant
La Cucina - and the charming beautiful waitress Asia Asia was immediately filled with emotion too at the music. The head chef even left his helm in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of red and attend my mini-recital! He was a large man, yet the tears were evident as he stood and bowed to me before he returned to his post.The violin and the story were touching everyone we met.

The next morning, we drove in quiet reflection to the Chapel for the Funeral.The music that Ric chose was ethereal and exquisite. The tears rushed forward as we all were overcome with the emotion and the moment and the celebration of a glorious life. It was my turn, and I rose, acknowledged the family and thanked them for inviting me to perform for Lily. Bob told me Lily's favorite music was the little tune, popular back in the day, "Daisy Daisy". Bob had requested, if possible, that I incorporate that tune somehow and play a cadenza. I opened my cadenza with the famous strains of the song, and then let my mind carry me across an improvised musical landscape, basing the themes on Daisy, and yet allowing the structure and form to take shape as it wished.

The violin was in her element. Rich, sonorous and strong-voiced. Even and pure of tone across the entire range of the instrument. Not too strident, not too gutteral. She was perfectly voiced. I fought back my own tears in order to play. As I finished, I turned, touched the coffin, and gave a curtsey of respect to a great woman.

Farewell Lily. I hope I honored you. I hope you loved the music from your beloved son Ric and this new woman you only ever met over the phone (until the three visits after we arrived here.) - the American with a "lovely laugh" as you liked to tell me, and you often thanked me for "giving my son a new meaning of love." "You make him so very happy. I can hear that every time he tells me about you. Thank you Leigh", you used to tell me.

Well, at this moment, I was just so filled with emotion but I was humble in her presence and so grateful that the violin had soared and allowed me to express that which words cannot. After the Service, we all celebrated Lily's glorious life once again at a terrific Bangladesh Restaurant,
The New Viceroy restaurant. We were spoiled by the delicious cooking of owner and host Zak Rahman. He too, allowed me to perform on the violin in a little reprise of the cadenza. His guests were delighted, and we enjoyed the music and the company of friends old and new, and basked in love and life's ebbs and flows- the cycles of life had completed in another soul today. We relaxed as the afternoon continued. The heartfelt feelings of everyone were genuine as the story entertwined and was made longer each time by the addition of new characters and events in "The Violin Journey".

As the afternoon led into the evening, I became sad and reflective. I did not see how I would be able to let the violin go. How could I return the violin after all this? Plus, she was SUCH a violin. I was smitten. All the tell-tale signs were there. I was falling in love with that violin.

I literally did not sleep that night, I tossed and turned, and finally had to pace the empty house, Lily seemed to be somehow with me, saying goodbye to her family home of some 50 years. I felt comfort that she was releasing her space, and also somehow found comfort and strength and greeted the morning knowing that I could do it- I would be ok returning the violin to Andrew.

As we ate breakfast, and my calmness of happiness was restored, I was content with the world, feeling gratitude that I had had the extraordinary experience of finding and performing on a violin that had given not only me, but everyone she sounded out to, such great pleasure. At this moment, Bob called to me, "Leigh, come with me." We walked into his childhood bedroom, and he gave me a giant bear hug. (He is really good at those- being somewhat of the stature of a giant bear.) "Here is a gift for you." It was an envelope. Quite a fat envelope. Well- as it gradually dawned on me, I squealed and screamed! The violin would be mine! Could you all hear my joy around the world that moment? The neighbors certainly could!

And, in case you think my amazing tale ends there- it doesn't. just yet. Yes! There is more! We went back to see Andrew at JPB Music. I told him the good news. I was purchasing the violin! Remember his raised eyebrow and wry smile earlier? "Leigh- how did you do it? You managed that day, to select the very best violin in the whole shop. First pick. Now I am envious, as I will no longer be able to practice on that violin-my favourite- when I am here working in the shop !" It is amazing! That violin is the best! Well, dear readers- life has a wonderful way of unfolding, doesn't it?

​ "That" violin has now got a name. Meet Lily. She found me, I had really nothing to do with it. Lily is happy in my music room as I type, and in 5 minutes I will take my favourite journey: down the stairs to my beloved music room. And I will play Lily. Can you hear me yet? Oh yes- and thank you from the bottom of my heart, dear Bob (and Ric.) Your gift means the glory of your Mum lives on through the greatest power I know to transform- music.
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Heifetz the Legend

5/23/2016

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I remember my parents playing me this recording of the "Violin King" when I was about 6 years old, and being amazed at how easy it all sounded! If only I knew......as my professor Gingold used to say, "When Heifetz walked in the room, any other violinists might as well start packing up their violins. There was no point to even try to match him!" Hora Stacatto is known for its up and down bow stacattos, and Heifetz plays each way with equal bravura. Sigh! Time for bed!
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A River Runs Through Me

5/21/2016

2 Comments

 
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I am reposting this story from last year of my childhood and teenage memories spent as a swimming "water baby" in the rivers and lakes of my Georgia. The reason is that a dear violinist friend of mine, Juan Ramirez, still a performer with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, who was a mentor (as well as others) of mine when I was a student and Concertmaster of the Atlanta Symphony Youth Orchestra, just made a post of him playing his violin on the deck of his holiday home overlooking the very same Lake Arrowhead where we had property and where I spent so much time swimming and loving life in my formative years! Juan and I caught up last September, and Jaun met Bob Halstead too- so its a nice completing of the "circle of serendipity" that, after all these years, Juan and I never knew that we shared a holiday location so special and slightly "secret", and we just found out today! Felicitaciones, Juan! I too, hope we can achieve your dream of performing some great Chamber Music together at your Lake Arrowhead idyllic home in the coming years!

This morning I woke up early, went outside and welcomed the dawn. I can see a glimpse of the sea from my balcony, and lush tropical rainforest surrounds me. New
Years are sometimes times for reminiscing, and so here we are- I am taking you back to the waters of my childhood, in North Georgia, USA.

This is the place I feel most grounded in, and most attuned to. I have always been attracted to water, and I learned to become a strong swimmer and have a deep respect for the water not far from the banks of theChattahoochee River Park pictured here. My first lessons were with my Daddy in the pool on various United States Air Force bases in Illinois (where I was born), then California (where my sister, Kara Walker Griffith was born), then later Washington DC. Then, when my Daddy retired from the USAF, he got a new job, and we moved to North Atlanta, Georgia, where these photos are all taken.

After moving here, my "advanced" swimming training began. Besides training every day in the Olympic-sized pool near the river clubhouse, our swim team coach devised a program for us to learn "open water" skills. Every morning in summer break, at the crack of dawn (5:00am or so), we would meet on the banks of the Chattahoochee River, at the Huntcliff River Club and Stables. We all stood on a balcony platform dock hanging over the swiftly running river, and, one-by-one, had to dive off, and swim unaided (in many instances against strong currents) and with very cold water temperatures, half-way across the river, to a long island finger, where we pulled ourselves ashore - (no beach, just craggy rocks and bush scrub...), and waited, wet, cold, and shivering, until the entire group in my class had done the same. Then, we repeated the exercise in reverse, this time with the coach yelling and screaming support in a gruff voice through his megaphone from the far bank! It was only after resurfacing on the club dock that we were allowed the luxury of a dry towel and a thermos of hot chocolate!

The safety measures for us kids were different in those days, as I suppose over-regulating had not become the norm. However, we had the aid of a support canoe with a rower and a spotter together in the craft following us during our river crossings should anything run amiss! I usually wondered how there would ever be room for anyone else in the small canoe should we actually need their assistance.....

So- all my love of all-things swimming and water-related stems from these years. My Daddy "taught" me how to dive off the extreme high-dive at the fore-mentioned Olympic standard pool by climbing up the ladder after me, and saying, "You had better dive, Leighfus (YES! That was my nickname!!!!), as there is only ONE way down, and that is in the water!" So, I instantly became a "highplatform diver."

I suppose all these skills have aided me in my abilities today as a scuba diver, a sport I came to very "late" in life. Anyway, continuing on with my North Georgia waters story....some other pics are from the place, high up in the North Georgia hills, where my parents had a plot of land and planned a summer home. The home was never built, but they kept the land, at a gorgeous place near Canton called Lake Arrowhead. The lake is massive, and many summer vacations were spent there swimming, water-skiing, and rafting. My swimming adventures continued at this idyllic location, as there were frequent "swim the lake" meets and championships which I participated in and relished.

So- there we go. I am a water baby, and there is no place on earth I feel more at "home" than Georgia. Well, other than the stage, anywhere, (that is another story), and, now, more recently, in my new underwater home of the diving world. I have Bob Halstead to thank for that.

I had had only one prior (very bad) scuba diving experience before I moved to Australia and met him. I had been in the Florida Keys, and the Scuba Instructor offered me an introductory lesson, but after gearing me up and getting me in the water, he basically abandoned me. So, although extremely comfortable in the water all my life as a strong swimmer, I felt nervous and unsure on scuba after my bad experience. When I met Bob, I told him I was uneasy and apprehensive to Have another go. His words I will remember forever: "Just try a one-hour session on scuba in the pool with me, and afterwards you can see what you think." The rest is history. I wonder if it is of any significance that I was the last scuba diving student that Bob ever certified before he "retired" from instructing diving?

​So, dear friends, for those of you who have bothered reading this far and have stuck with my story MUST be dear friends, that is my childhood story of my innate love of the water, and my equally strong love of Georgia, I am a Georgia Girl, through and through. The Chattahoochee River and lake Arrowhead still call me sometimes, and today, well, I listened. Happy New Year.
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Bravo Bowie!

5/20/2016

1 Comment

 
When Legendary Artist David Bowie died, I too was devastated by the news. You see- I met David Bowie myself, way back in December, 1983, when I was a first violinist in the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra!

Bowie was on the Serious Moonlight World Tour, one of his biggest and most successful. The final two nights of the tour were in Hong Kong, in the colossal Coliseum. My HK Philharmonic was the accompanying orchestra on stage. I had only recently arrived in the city the previous September, freshly out of my Graduate Degree at Indiana University School of Music, and beyond thrilled to take on my first permanent professional orchestral job.

Hong Kong in the early '80s was cacophony- a riot of neon, skyscrapers, shoulder pads, bustle, traffic, the best cuisine on the planet, night markets, obscene assaults of color, sound, smells, bodies and energy. Hong Kong was relentless, yet perfect for my wide-eyed 22 years of eagerness. I relished the new shock of every sensation the city and my job had to offer- I was independent, proud, and ALIVE!

Imagine, then, my astounded reaction when I learned that we select musicians would be accompanying the Icon at the conclusion of his World Tour. Speechless? Yes. In Awe? Yes.
We arrived at the Coliseum on the afternoon of his first performance, ready for rehearsal. We loved seeing the all-white grand piano on stage. The members of Bowie's touring band, who we were supporting by adding the strings, winds, and brass sections, greeted us. I was star-struck and the Man himself wasn't even on stage yet! Would he even appear? Maybe the band would just take us through the set order and the changes. That was not uncommon for artists of Bowie's stature. Then he could have appeared only at the Show, and the fans would be none the wiser. But- No! There he was!

Laughter erupted from a seat in the cavernous auditorium. It was HIM! David leapt up to the stage, swinging up on his arms and skipping the stage stairs. Dressed impeccably in a pure white suit, hair bleached and coiffed, grinning and eyes twinkling. In his oh-so-English accent, he said hello. He thanked us for being a part of this historic tour. He sat at the piano and motioned to begin. As we struck the opening chords, "Scary Monsters", something was not to his liking. He stopped us, and began schooling us, ever-so-politely, in what effect he wanted. Oh my! It dawned on me that he must have Perfect Pitch. He was plucking obscure notes out of the air, time after time, without first referencing his pitch on the piano. He never missed or dropped a note. I too, have perfect pitch. It is s blessing and a curse! It means if I am reading a score and it is being played in a different key than what is notated, I go crazy!

Anyway, noting that Bowie was so incredibly musical when singing live (because the recording studio can famously hide a multitude of musical sins), I vowed to myself that I would somehow pluck up the courage to say hello and thank you right back to him at the break.

I did not know if my idea would work, as it is all-too-customary for famous artists of any genre to disappear in hiding to the Green Room as soon as there is a break in rehearsal. Sometimes artists are whisked away by their minders or agents.

December 7, 1983, was however my lucky day. The conductor left the stage for a tea break. Bowie stayed right where he was- at his piano.
I sidled sideways towards him, not wanting the embarrassment of rebuttal so trying to make my approach random. I must have been a sight! What ELSE could I have possibly been heading towards? The podium next to the piano?

Bowie smiled. He smiled AT ME. OH MY GOD!
He patted the spot next to him on the piano stool. "Come- sit and join me- I'm too tired to get up!"
I went through the motions as any 22 year old in shock might do. There I was. David Bowie and I were- well, "cheek to cheek"!

I said "hello" and he told me he loved the violin, as an instrument, which I was clutching. My knuckles were red from squeezing it so hard! He said he loved the sound of the violin but instead, at his Boy's Grammar School in England, been made to learn the flute. Having been an excellent choir boy,
he later took up sax and piano.

"Excuse me, Sir, but I believe you have perfect pitch"! "Yes, you must too, to be able to tell! Looks like you and I were not destined for the Cricket Pitch"! He chuckled at his joke. I sat frozen. Did he notice? What will my Mother say when I tell her?
It is a strange sensation, when one is so close to a famous celebrity, what odd mannerisms we adopt. I have met many other celebrities in my life, and over the years have learned (only slightly) how to relax and be more natural. But that day I know Mr. Bowie's gracious charm and gentle manner won me over completely. The best thing, that stands out in my mind even today, is that not once did he make me feel uneasy or out of place. He never made me feel inferior. I was his musical colleague on stage, and no matter I was green and young, I was treated with such polite kindness.

We continued chatting until gradually, my fellow musicians trickled back on stage. Bowie asked me about my home in Georgia, and how I liked new life in HK. "We have more than music in common, Leigh- you see, I share your love affair with all things Asian." "Cherish this time of your youth and your musical journey. You have already embraced life by coming here to a new job on the other side of the world. Live it- Love it-Enjoy It." I asked him how he liked the Touring Life. He responded- and I will never forget it- that "Tours are not about fame and fortune. Tours are chances to take our art- our love of music- to the people. We would be nothing without the people. If we cannot be human with them, why would we expect them to buy our albums, attend our concerts? I love interaction. I love people. " I also was amazed at his humility, in including me in his sentiments, by saying "our" and "we". As in "we musicians". That was the gift Bowie had. It was obvious why he was so popular. Artistry, consummate musicianship, compassion, and that bright spark.

That's it. And then, in a flash, I was back near the front of the First Violins. My stand partner poked me with her bow and gasped. "Oh my! What was he like? We had no idea he would stay on stage and that anyone could TALK to him!"

"What was he like"? I responded- "A complete gentleman- and funny too. "

We played two shows together. I'm sure I played all my notes brighter and better since our chance meeting. I was on cloud nine. On the second night. backstage, David gave me a big hug.

I didn't faint. But I shook all the way home!
I wanted to tell my story immediately after I learned the news of his death, but have had to wait until my pain from surgery subsided. I have been resting at home and recovering, and started thinking about those memories of sharing a stage with him. I remembered that his tour managers made a short film about his trip to Hong Kong- and, after a quick Google search, I found the film!

The film is eclectic and kinky and magic- just like Bowie. It somehow captures the essence of HK in the 80's, and evidently Bowie wanted the short film made to document his deep joy of the city and the culture and the people of HK. If you have a spare 15 minutes, enjoy. I loved it, as it brought a flood of memories of a great city - my fav on earth- at a great time.

You can just spot me, there on stage in his final show, as Bowie raises his blonde tresses skywards and starts the first few notes of his tribute and thank you to Hong Kong- his rendition of "China Girl".

I'm near the very end of this short film. I'm on the left in the violin section - the blonde glint of my hair is visible as I play my heart out in the spotlights as the camera pans out wide angle. I also found a better clip of the orchestra, when Bowie sings Lennon's "Imagine" in tribute. I'll post that clip in the comments section.
​
Bowie you were great. Bravo forever!
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    Welcome to
    ​"Perfect Pitch"- a collection of my musings about life, career, friends, laughter, and love of all things artistic.....

    Sometimes I love to write- it calms me down after all that music...well, nearly always calms me down! Unless, of course, I get carried away.....

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