We arrived early, as usual, at the concert hall and found a parking space just across the street from the hall. Inside I checked our coats, hats, scarves and gloves and we walked up the stairs to the concert hall. We've been there before so the stairs were no surprise.
We had seats in the third row in the center of the hall, close to the stage. I took a few preliminary pictures to check the lighting. A few minutes later we were surprised to see two friends of our, Joanna and Juliusz, come into our row. They had seats, 6 seats from us.
At 19:30 Al Di Meola came out with another guitar player from France whose name I don't remember and an accordion player from Italy, Fausto Beccalossi. That guy is an incredible accordionist. They were going to start playing but there was a buzz in the sound system that delayed the start for about 10 minutes.
Apologies were given to the audience and Al told the list of songs they would play for the evening, some old ones, some news ones from his newest CD, OPUS, and a few Beatles songs, a group he very much admired for their songwriting.
As expected from one in the upper echelon of exceptional guitar players, Al didn't disappoint the audience with his skill or speed of playing. Known for his works in jazz fusion and world music, it was evident in the songs he chose, even in the Beatles songs. I have to admit, at times I wasn't sure which Beatles tune he was playing, the melody was highly improvised.
Before he played one tune he told an interesting story of his family that I could somewhat relate to. His grandfather had immigrated from a small village north of Napoli, Italy along with another brother in the early 1900's. Those 2 brothers also had 14 other brothers and sisters who stayed in the village and didn't immigrate. Al had always heard stories of that village. A trip to that village was arranged some time ago and he was able to meet dozens of cousins he never knew he had. He wrote a song and dedicated it to that village. He played it for us last night.
I've heard different kinds of instruments play jazz but that was the first time I heard a jazz accordionist. It wasn't just the playing of notes but the emotion he put into it. You could see it in his face. I took more than a few pictures of his expressions as he played. I liked watching him.
When the last tune was played, there was an encore. We went to the cloakroom, got our coats, saw our friends, said a few words about the concert and came back home. It was a good night.
Jak zwykle przyjechali艣my wcze艣niej do sali koncertowej i znale藕li艣my miejsce parkingowe po drugiej stronie ulicy. Wewn膮trz odda艂em nasze p艂aszcze, czapki, szaliki i r臋kawiczki do szatni i weszli艣my po schodach do sali koncertowej. Byli艣my tam wcze艣niej, wi臋c schody nie by艂y zaskoczeniem.
Mieli艣my miejsca w trzecim rz臋dzie po艣rodku sali, blisko sceny. Zrobi艂em kilka wst臋pnych zdj臋膰, 偶eby sprawdzi膰 o艣wietlenie. Kilka minut p贸藕niej zdziwili艣my si臋, kiedy w naszym rz臋dzie pojawi艂o si臋 dwoje naszych znajomych, Joanna i Juliusz. Mieli miejsca o 6 siedze艅 od nas.
O 19:30 Al Di Meola wyszed艂 z innym gitarzyst膮 z Francji, kt贸rego nazwiska nie pami臋tam, oraz z akordeonist膮 z W艂och, Fausto Beccalossim. Ten facet jest niesamowitym akordeonist膮. Zacz臋li gra膰, ale w nag艂o艣nieniu rozlega艂 si臋 szum, kt贸ry op贸藕ni艂 rozpocz臋cie o oko艂o 10 minut.
Publiczno艣ci zosta艂a przeproszona, a Al poda艂 list臋 utwor贸w, kt贸re zagraj膮 tego wieczoru, kilka starych, kilka nowych z jego najnowszej p艂yty OPUS i kilka piosenek Beatles贸w, grupy, kt贸r膮 bardzo podziwia za pisanie piosenek.
Zgodnie z oczekiwaniami co do jednego z czo艂owych i wyj膮tkowych gitarzyst贸w, Al nie rozczarowa艂 publiczno艣ci swoimi umiej臋tno艣ciami ani szybko艣ci膮 grania. Znany ze swoich utwor贸w w muzyce jazzowej i muzyce 艣wiatowej, by艂 widoczny w utworach, kt贸re wybra艂, nawet w piosenkach Beatles贸w. Musz臋 przyzna膰, 偶e czasami nie by艂em pewien, kt贸ry z utwor贸w Beatles贸w gra, poniewa偶 melodia by艂a bardzo improwizowana.
Zanim zagra艂 jeden z utwor贸w, opowiedzia艂 ciekaw膮 histori臋 swojej rodziny, z kt贸r膮 m贸g艂bym si臋 nieco uto偶samia膰. Jego dziadek wyemigrowa艂 z ma艂ej wioski na p贸艂noc od Neapolu we W艂oszech wraz z innym bratem na pocz膮tku 1900 roku. Tych dw贸ch braci mia艂o r贸wnie偶 14 innych braci i si贸str, kt贸rzy pozostali w wiosce i nie wyemigrowali. Al zawsze s艂ucha艂 historii o tej wiosce. Podr贸偶 do wioski zosta艂a zorganizowana jaki艣 czas temu i wtedy m贸g艂 pozna膰 dziesi膮tki kuzyn贸w, o kt贸rych nigdy nie wiedzia艂, 偶e ich ma. Napisa艂 piosenk臋 i po艣wi臋ci艂 j膮 tej wiosce. Zagra艂 to dla nas zesz艂ej nocy.
S艂ysza艂em r贸偶ne rodzaje instrument贸w graj膮cych jazz, ale po raz pierwszy us艂ysza艂em jazzowego akordeonist臋. Nie chodzi艂o tylko o granie z nut, ale o emocje, kt贸re w to wk艂ada艂. Widzia艂e艣 to na jego twarzy. Podczas, gdy gra艂 zrobi艂em wi臋cej ni偶 kilka zdj臋膰, aby uchwyci膰 jego ekspresj臋. Z przyjemno艣ci膮 go obserwowa艂em.
Kiedy ostatnia melodia by艂a grana, by艂 bis. Poszli艣my do szatni, wzi臋li艣my p艂aszcze, zobaczyli艣my naszych przyjaci贸艂, powiedzieli艣my kilka s艂贸w o koncercie i wr贸cili艣my do domu. To by艂a dobra noc.