and I didn’t ask his name
Brussels, 10 April 2014
On the way to the European Parliament, we were somehow lost. Then we saw a very nice cathedral (later I know it’s Cathedralis SS. Michaelis et Gudulae) and decided to come in just to have a look. We felt so lucky when we heard such beautiful music, perhaps one of the best of its kind, right after we entered. It was in the middle of a concert.
The conductor, a young guy in black shirt (girls always seem to have a thing for guys in black shirts, don’t they?) quickly came to my attention. Although I only saw him from behind, it was some kind of a heartfelt impression. His hand movements, the way he turned to the left for the choir, the way he turned to the right for the orchestra, the way he tried to cheer one guy in the middle up when that guy dropped the tambourine, everything about this guy was so genuine and mesmerizing. All I knew then and still remember now was how much I wanted to approach and say something to him. Anything.
At the end of the concert, it took me 12.5 years of patience to wait until he was alone and another 12.5 years of courage to ask him for a photo. He told me he’s from America and just finished his Master. Now he’s enjoying his life doing this music thing.
- I’m going back to the Netherlands tomorrow.
- Ohhh so last night in town. I hope you’ll enjoy it!
- Thank you. And thanks for the beautiful music!
And I didn’t ask what his name is. Because I knew one day, when he becomes a well-known conductor, I’ll know his name.
15 April 2014