|
PASSPORT, PLEASE
A Tour Around the World with The Lead Singer from The Orchestra
March 2007
By PARTHENON HUXLEY
 h, for the leisurely days of writing Passport #1: I'd construct a paragraph here, throw in a witty quote there...go to the kitchen for perhaps a little more coffee...oh, look, it's snowing...zzzzzzz.
But now Bluerailroad is up and running and editor/savant Paul Zollo wrote to say he expects ANOTHER column! HUH? So soon? Shouldn't we plan the office party first? My deadline for this column is so tight…I'm still writing the end as you're reading this beginning. Badda-boom.
Anyway. Onward through the fog.
If we're lucky, that is. I'm stuck in Copenhagen Airport because my destination, Vilnius, Lithuania, is blanketed by a seasonally odd Shepard's Pie of dense fog and no flights are going in or out. I arrived here from Washington at 7:30 this morning expecting to catch the 9:30 connection to Vilnius-a nice little two-hour layover. It's now 6pm. I've stared bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived at Departure monitors all day as three different flights to Vilnius have popped up and then dropped off the board: "Cancelled."
Crap. This is travel's non-glamorous part. It's also bad for business: my band The Orchestra has a gig tomorrow night in Kaunas, which I'm assuming is a city in Lithuania. It'll be a real drag if the band doesn't make it.
For easy reference, The Orchestra:
Mik Kaminski - violin
Kelly Groucutt - bass
Lou Clark - conductor
Eric Troyer - keyboards/tour mgr
Gordon Townsend - drums
John Shipp - sound
Greg Szabo - lights
I've just borrowed a phone from an airport official and called Eric's cell. We're not even all in Copenhagen. Eric's stuck in England, Gordon and John are stranded in Berlin. Mik, Kelly and Greg apparently ARE in Copenhagen (I haven't seen them) and Lou's the one in Lithuania because he flew early.
It dawns on me why I haven't run into the other guys here in Copenhagen: I DIDN'T GO INTO A BAR. Silly me.
Okay...airport stories are inherently boring. I'll cut to the chase.
I run into Greg, Mik and Kelly. Yay. I'm comforted by our mutual discomfort. Then, mysteriously, a flight to Vilnius is cleared to depart at 8pm and hallelujah we all make it onboard. We take off, and with apologies to MTM, it looks like we're gonna make it after all.
Guess the Lithuanian fog finally lifted, right? Well…about an hour and a half out of Copenhagen, we begin our descent into Baltic airspace. I look up from my book ("The Known World"--a good read) and peek out a window about every six seconds hoping to catch that reassuring vision of clear ground under the lowest cloud cover. Hmmm...Vilnius should be showing up soon...soon...soon...soo-BOOM! OhmyGodwe'velanded. Yikes.
I look out the window. As we say in the USA, I can't see shit. It's incredibly foggy. It looks like the final scene in Casablanca. How come this flight wasn't cancelled like all the others? Somebody up there must think these are important shows!
(I filmed the spooky airport tarmac with my digital video camera. Most of the pictures for this story are low-res stills from video footage…)
The first gig was one hour by bus from Vilnius. The venue was a basketball arena, the Kaunas Sports Hall (home to Zalgiris Kaunas, the team of ex-NBA player Arvydas Sabonis) and we were overwhelmed by the warm reception. Six thousand fans came out to see us play with the Lithuanian State Orchestra and it was one of those magical nights where the applause remained at full intensity long past the polite drop-off point. Several times I was ready to introduce the next song but had to back off the mic as the roar of the crowd poured down over us. It was truly amazing.
(I related the above to a friend who'd been to the 2004 Olympics in Athens. He said the Lithuanians were by far the best basketball fans, making the most joyous noise of all the Olympic spectators. Maybe they've got a good 'fan' gene....)
Here's an example of how good-natured the crowd was: during Ma Ma Ma Belle one fan could no longer restrain his mojo and he sprinted to the area in front of the stage for an impromptu dance, en solo. His style was silly and full of joy. Seated fans smiled. A uniformed security guy reluctantly approached the dancing dude and gently guided him back to his seat. Suddenly, the whole building filled with boos and then laughter. The whole crowd, as one, expressed their displeasure with security and followed it with a little commentary on dancing dude's somewhat lame style. It was hilarious.
The security guys let their guard down with a couple of younger fans. A girl about four years old sauntered back and forth in front of the stage, her hands behind her back, her expression thoughtful. A second kid, maybe six, propped his elbows on the lip of the stage and took about 400 pictures with his Dad's cell phone. Hope they turned out. A key person in the crowd that first night was Gintaras Sabaliauskas from Kaunas Television Services. Ginataras was to film our show in Vilnius the next night. He was in Kaunas to watch us and take notes.
The show went down well. The orchestra musicians were great as they typically are in Eastern Europe. Well-schooled, seriously good players. After only two rehearsals under Lou's guiding baton, they dug into the material and kicked butt.
(Note: Lou Clark began arranging orchestral parts for ELO in 1974 for
the Eldorado album. Live, he normally performs his string
parts on a keyboard; when we do orchestral gigs, he packs his
conductor's tuxedo and brings along a small suitcase filled with sheet
music of his arrangements. It's great to have Lou in the band-no one
is better suited to conduct this music.)
Another reason things went well in Kaunas: we were reunited with Misha,
our Russian backline specialist who was so pleased to tour with a "beeg
band" such as ourselves. Besides doing a great job with our monitoring, Misha is now the proud father of a son. I congratulated him and he said, "Yes…thank you thank you…and now…when there is questions for Michael…we must say…'wheech one?'" Awww…Misha prepared a joke for us…you gotta love it.
After a lavish post-gig meal with our promoters we were fat and happy on the bus back to Vilnius. Our driver must've been fat and happy, too, because he was drifting off the road a bit. For once I was glad to be jet-lagged and wide-awake: I watched his back while everyone else snoozed.
I wish we could've hung out in Kaunas after the show and gotten to know the city a bit. Our schedule was simply too tight. But here's a Google entry that's pretty interesting:
Kaunas with nearly 400 thousand inhabitants is one of the most significant cities of Lithuania. Visitors should check out the Devils Museum - the only museum in the world dedicated to all things devilish! For lovers of the avant-garde you are encouraged to visit the Fluxus exhibition at the Modern Art Museum. The Fluxus movement was started by Kaunas born Jurgis (George) Maciunas and included followers such as Yoko Ono, Joseph Beuys, John Cage, George Brecht and Robert Filliou (as well as counting Andy Warhol and John Lennon amongst its interested subscribers) and the exhibition contains many pieces of work by these
artists.
Kaunas, I feel like I barely got to know you. I'm definitely checking out the Devil's museum next time.
In Vilnius the next day I took advantage of a morning off to take a look around the town. I'd been there back in 1999 soon after I joined the band and remembered liking it.
Vilnius is a compact city, the kind of place you can put your arms around. The old town is medieval, perfect for walking. Many of the centuries-old buildings have been restored and upscale tenants have moved in alongside shops that probably haven't changed much in a hundred years. Church spires abound, and Vilnius has apparently become a favorite tourist destination for Italians. I guess it's a Catholic thing.
Our hotel was right in the old town, on a square across from the Philharmonic Hall. I wandered up a narrow street and eventually found myself atop some ancient battlements, recently restored. Defensive walls are always a good spot for a view-that's the point, after all. You need to be able to spot the Huns when they come charging for your town. Vilnius sits huddled in a small valley. It's picturesque. It was also cold and windy, so I climbed down from the ancient city walls and headed for the seclusion of a side street.
That's when my meandering earned its reward. I came upon an innocuous
wall covered in stencil art. Obviously the work of art students, there was some really cool stuff. My favorite was a blue and black stencil of a foosball table. Don't ask me why, but I felt the love.
Apparently I'm not alone in my appreciation of the stencil art. A Vilnius tourist site features some the same stencils on its home page. A graphic at the top of the page includes some of the same art I saw:
www.vilnius-life.com
Not every wandering inquiry paid off. I went into a music store hoping
to spot a guitar no one's ever heard off-you know, a 1962 Zantronacaster or something-but no such luck. I approached a street vendor selling paintings. Nahh. Routine thrift shop treasure. I did manage to score a hand-carved wooden mule for my daughter and lo and
behold she liked it. Cha-ching.
My last little payoff for walking around Vilnius was seeing signs pointing to "The Gates of Dawn." I may or may not have actually seen the Gates...I saw a cool arched building spanning the road…but more than anything I just loved being in a city that had such a groovily named destination. (It sounds like a Robin Trower song, too.)
Wait a minute. Gates Of Dawn. G.O.D. I get it!
Oh, hell, let's just Google 'em:
"The Gates of Dawn are one of the symbols of the city of Vilnius. These
gates are a famous Catholic shrine. They were one of the original five
gates of Vilnius built together with the city wall. The main facade of
the gates is adorned with gryphons bearing the arms of the Grand Duchy
of Lithuania."
Damn. Missed the Gryphons! Next time.
As much as I enjoyed my walk around the old town, it occurred to me there was very little tourist hype promoting the city's "must see" attractions. Assuming that stencil graffiti isn't the pride of Vilnius what exactly WAS I supposed to be looking for?
Back in my room, I leafed through a tourist magazine called Lithuania
Today. Here's the first thing I read:
"How are you able to live in such a sad country as Lithuania?" My friend who has visited Lithuania a couple of times was obviously not too impressed by what he saw, but after some convincing we agreed that it may not be so bad, after all…".
WOW! How's that for hype? Suddenly, I was completely on Lithuania's side. I'd never read a more self-deprecating advertisement in my life. I can see the campaign now: Come To Lithuania Even Though It Sort of Sucks! I read through the magazine, delighted with Lithuania's harsh modesty. Excerpts are at the end of this column. Enjoy.
My brief love affair with medieval Vilnius had to take a break. It was time to get ready to rock.
We'd known for a while that our Vilnius concert was to be filmed but it wasn't until we got to the venue that we got excited. Maybe a little too excited. When our bus arrived at the Siemens Arena and dropped us backstage, I think each of us suddenly realized the scope of what we were getting into. The place was huge! It looked like (a brand new) Madison Square Garden. Holy shit. We're playing HERE? We were told the crowd would be about eight thousand people. This was no ordinary
gig.
Gulp.
How come we're so popular in Lithuania? I'm afraid that question will remain rhetorical, as I have no answer. Also, don't look a gift-horse, etc.
I dropped my stuff backstage and went to take a look around. There must've been twenty cameras positioned on, around and in front of the massive two-tiered stage, including one on a crane. Cool! We'd get those sweeping cover shots from overhead. THE MONEY SHOTS.
As I took in all the preparations that were ultimately on our behalf, I'll confess to a small bout of nerves. Not competency nerves. I wasn't afraid of making mistakes--that happens no matter what!
It was more like…disaster nerves. As in be careful. Don't trip and break an arm. Don't walk through glass or accidentally swallow sand. Don't do something so horrible there's no way to hide it when the cameras roll. That kind of thing. Avoid suddenly growing a horn.
A cameraman followed us around backstage, probably with orders to capture witty banter and hilarious rock and roll shenanigans. I felt a little bad for him. First of all, our conversation is mostly stale band jokes; secondly, there isn't a groupie within two time zones of this band; third, we don't do drugs (anymore); and fourth, all of the
above. BORRRRRRRRRRRRRR-ing!
Okay, Mik is really funny, but he's hard to understand. Kelly likes getting naked but who the hell wants to see that? (No offense, Mrs. Groucutt!) Lou belches like a Greek tugboat, Eric and I do annoying vocal warm-ups and Gordon…where's Gordon?
Good luck, camera dude!
Anyway, off we go, boys. Lights are dimming. Crowd is yelling. Let's try to look pretty, bring the rock and make a great movie.
Journalistically, I wish I had some wonderful calamity to report, but overall it turned out to be a fantastic show. We had one major train wreck with the orchestra when they fell behind the beat during the Eldorado Overture. It's pretty tough to get seventy players to catch up all at once. But overall the show was a keeper. The crowd was great, we played well, I didn't combust, and the orchestra was terrific.
The thing that pleased me the most was...I think the film may've captured all the little inside things we do that I treasure as a band guy. Like every band, we have little moments onstage that are flagged--nothing the audience would know about--just specific places in the show that act as connection points for us guys on stage.
Here are four of those flags, out of at least fifty:
About thirty seconds into the show while Kelly sings the first verse of "Evil Woman" I have a few moments off mic. I'm playing a simple rhythm guitar part, something easy to groove to with Gordon. It's the place near the top of the show that says to me "And we're off!" I habitually turn toward Eric up on his keyboard riser and give him a look that asks, "Is your shit working okay? Anything on fire?" If everything's fine we give each other squinty-eyed-super-concentrated-rock-face along with a slight nod that indicates, Yes, We Are Grooving, Baby.
During our insane, epic version of "Twist and Shout" (from our album No
Rewind WHICH YOU CAN BUY ON MY SITE … oops did I say that OUT LOUD?)
there are two points where I join Kelly on his mic so we can sing backups face to face like the You-Know-Who's did. As I approach his mic he makes room for me by lifting his bass neck out of the way in an unnecessarily dramatic arch. This gesture unfailingly causes us to acquire shit-eating grins.
We've made a short medley of "Livin' Thing" and "Xanadu" by linking them with eight bars of driving rock during which Mik and I converge at center stage to create some visual movement. We don't have time to do anything more than make goofy faces at each other but I always try to reach one hand out and pantomime an adjustment to his violin's tuning pegs, i.e., intimating he's a daft bastard who plays out of tune. For some reason, I always enjoy that!
In "Telephone Line" there's a section ("I'll just sit tight/through shadows of the night/and let it ring for evermore") where I don't have to sing for a few bars. I turn to Gordon and lock my guitar upstrokes to his snare hits, over dramatizing the effort it takes to do so. It's dumb and we love it.
I haven't seen all the footage from Lithuania, but I'm hoping Mr. Sabaliauskas captured those kinds of moments. It'll be a great souvenir if he did. When this band becomes history, I wouldn't be surprised if it's all those little things that I'll remember most fondly.
* * *
Here are two excerpts from the tourist magazine Lithuania Today with spelling, grammar and punctuation intact. Keep in mind the purpose of the magazine is to encourage people to visit.
Lithuanian Tourist Snapshots
Some things that come naturally in one culture can be hard to fathom in
another and nothing can be more fun or annoying than these cultural differences. Some customs are important and should be respected by all travelers, but not all of them... Soviet-style service is a dying art, but still alive in some places. Many good stories have emerged from this phenomenon. But seriously, in a modern tourist industry, the sources of such stories can be a problem for the image of a country.
The following example is meant as much for amusement as a warning.
Ticket office
It can be hard to get tickets to good shows due to the high demand and limited number of seats. That the venue don't want to sell seats tickets is luckily even rarer.
"Do you speak English?"
Cashier: "Yes"
"May I buy a ticket to the show?"
"No"
"Eh. Why?"
"You have children"
"Yes I have."
Silence.
"So...no ticket?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Children!" (Woman points to children).
"Yes, they are my children".
"No Children! (Angrily)".
"At the concert?"
"No Children!" (If looks could kill).
"Can I buy a ticket? Please?" (pointing at myself).
(Woman walks away shaking her head murmuring something)
A young girl turns up.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes please, may I have a ticket to tonight's show?"
"Yes, where do you want to sit?"
"Somewhere nice."
"No problem."
"One ticket?"
"Yes please."
"15 Litas"
"By the way, can I bring children?"
"Off course"
"Thanks, have nice day."
"You too, Viso gero".
And another:
"How are you able to live in such a sad country as Lithuania?" My friend who has visited Lithuania a couple of times was obviously not too impressed by what he saw, but after some convincing we agreed that it may not be so bad, after all, I have to say, though, that his words remain in the back of my mind and I sincerely wish I in honesty could have told him that; "-yes, to be a tourist in Lithuania is just fine...." In this issue we focus on some of the good reasons to visit Lithuania - but also we have to admit that there are still too many sad aspects characterizing the travel trade here.
Some of the sad aspects:
THE STATE DEPARTMENT OF TOURISM
Our reporter made several attempts to get an interview with the department's Director General Mr. Alvitis Lukosevicius, in order to learn about their present vision and plans for tourism in Lithuania. The department never responded, and missed another opportunity to talk about how attractive Lithuania is. We know that other institutions and foreign tour operators have had similar problems with the tourism authorities here - both centrally and in some of the districts and municipalities - hence improvements are obviously much needed.
THE SMILE
Arriving at a Lithuanian airport or border crossing is not a joyful experience. Very often the first impression of Lithuania is a sour face at the passport control, not to mention what it's like if you should require a visa and need to go to the police department where Soviet practice still hangs in the air of the dark corridors, or if stopped by police for speeding. Also personnel at many offices, restaurants and
shops should have been given a course in smiling. Put on a happy face
guys, and the world will smile back at you...
THE GENERAL ATTITUDE
If you drive a car in Lithuania you will soon feel that the country is full of nasty drivers who want to show off and irritate every other road user, so don't ever expect them to be helpful or polite. The same lack of a friendly attitude also applies, unfortunately, to people on many levels and in many everyday situations, even if there are so many wonderful exceptions.
Some of the good aspects:
VILNIUS OLD TOWN
Lithuania's most prominent tourist attraction is a proud monument of
what was going on in this country from the time of the Grand Duke
Gediminas in the Middle Ages. It is said to be the most Italian city
outside Italy and the most baroque city north of the Alps.
CULTURAL LIFE
The repertories of the Opera, the National Philharmonic, and many other
stages are fantastic. As is the case for many of the galleries,
museums, clubs and art exhibitions. The level is high and the prices
are below the west.
COUNTRY TOURISM
Many Inns and country roadside restaurants have been popping up over
the last few years, and even if the food and service sometimes may not
be the very best, this has become a very nice and attractive hallmark
of traveling around Lithuania. Well done!
THE HOTELS
The bigger hotels have been teaching their personnel the best manners
and are also performing their extensive marketing much more
professionally than the official tourism organizations. This kind of
international level is what Lithuania needs for all its travel
industry.
THE PEOPLE
While I mentioned the public face of Lithuania, once you are befriended
and taken into their confidence, there are no more generous and
good-natured people on earth. Let's help the rest of the world see that
side of Lithuania as well.
Aage Myhre
Editor-in-Chief
Lithuania Today 2006 Issue 9
Top
| Back
|
