It was a weekend of brushes with fame, in fact, some closer than others. Leaving the dress rehearsal yesterday morning, I walked away from the shed and spoke to Lisa, and her first words were, “You touched Seiji!” I responded that I hadn’t been that close, and she said, “No, you dummy, he was standing right in front of you when you exited the hall. You almost ran him over.” Um, oops. In my defense I was still hyperventilating a little bit from the finale.
Then last night the chorus was entering the stage through the side door of the shed, a path which winds by the dressing rooms of the guest performers and the conductor. An older gentleman stepped by as I walked in and commented, “What a long line of performers.” I walked past and did a double-take: it was John Williams, the former Pops conductor and current film composer, who’s been around quite a few Tanglewood performances this summer. I had been within a step of barreling into him on the way to the stage. I walked on by, noting the vaguely familiar woman standing across the hall. When I saw her later at the after-party, I placed her: Mia Farrow. Both were there to say hi to Seiji.
And me? Too gobsmacked, and honestly too tired, to say anything to any of them. Oh well.