Our conductor this week has programed a piece which asks percussionists to type on a typewriter, hit empty wine bottles, spin a lottery machine, shoot cap guns, spin a siren machine, and smack a bucket of water.
Once a dancer, he is bringing the life and drama of the dance world to the classical music stage. He asked one of the percussionists to open the lottery machine so that the numbers fall to the floor and scatter. And when he insisted on more effort in the water splashing, the stage crew decided it would be prudent to move the set further upstage, away from the audience, cover the stage in plastic, and surround the bucket with plexiglass. Our percussionist is wearing a rain jacket for the occasion.
In Don Quixote, he modelled a dramatic entrance for our solo cellist, demonstrating that he should carry his cello over his head like a club in a fit a passion right before his chivalric entrance. Our cellist is a very calm Japanese gentlemen in his early 70's, but is obligingly playing along with the idea.
Our conductor has no concern for the tidiness of the stage, literal or metaphoric. He is a choreographer with a baton and I'm enjoying the new perspective that he shares.