I have been remiss in not writing more, sooner, about the 2001 International Festival of Arts & Ideas, which began yesterday. My main sticking point is that I won’t be in town to experience most of it. Instead I’m in Los Angeles, covering several other festivals as a “fellow” in the NEA/Annenberg arts journalism program.
I’ve attended part of every Arts & Ideas festival since the annual summer tourism-boosting events began in the mid 1990s. While for most years of it I can boast having seen and reviewed every major (and a whole lot of “minor”) events, it’s not unprecedented for me to have missed whole swats of Arts & Ideas. Twice in particular, owing to the wondrous June births of my daughters Mabel and Sally.
I’m writing this on an airplane en route L.A. on June 12, but I was able to squeeze in one A&I event before blowing town. It is the one which will likely define the fest for a lot of people anyhow: Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Project’s free concert on new haven green.
He wouldn’t remember me, but Yo Yo Ma and I both lived in Winchester, Mass., in the 1970s. I babysat regularly for the Cass family who lived next door to him. It was common to see him tossing a cell on hired car trunk and driving of to the airport. (I could relate, since my father was, among other things, a touring puppeteer who likewise was always tossing odd baggage around).
We also attended the same Winchester church, Parish of the Epiphany. My older sister Catherine and I sang in the choir. On Christmas eves Yo Yo Ma would be up in the choir loft as well, playing preludes and postludes to an entertained and truly blessed congregation.
Those memories came flooding back to me Saturday when I took a break from packing for L.A. The girls and I wandered downtown for book-browsing, ice cream licking and Green grazing. The evening rains had subsided, but only just. Thousands of people packed New Haven Green, many sitting on the grass and barely noticing it was soggy. When they stood, it wasn’t because it was wet but because they were giving a rapturous ovation.
The sounds were intoxicating. We were latecomers to the concert, and the music wafted us from the upper Green towards the stage. The only previous Green convert I can compare that experience to is when Chaka Khan appeared there at one of the Music on the Green series, backed by an orchestral big band. The Silk Road Ensemble’s aural allure was similar, the sense of mixed cultural traditions equally apparent, the wildly diverse yet devoutly respectful audience a credit to the arts-loving masses which make up New Haven.
But this Silk Road journey was unique. Where classical players, and big bands, often maintain a certain austerity and formality even when playing for “the people,” Yo Yo Ma and his bandmates were doing all they could to break down those barriers. They behaved more like a jam band than a schooled ensemble, or– in one instance where a bagpiper squared off animatedly against someone playing a wooden recorder– like an improved production of Riverdance.
Behind this sonic set piece stood
Yo Yo Ma himself. Yes, stood. He’d gotten up from his accustomed cello chair and delightedly mixing it up with the percussionists. His expression was merry, his rhythms precise, his role as welcomer and exemplar of the 2011 International Festival of Arts & Ideas assured.