Sorry this has taken so long to complete, but, If you`ve been following me with this story, this is definitely the climax, so, read on...
So, after being asked to dance and being introduced to my partner, we introduced ourselves and tried to gage each other`s ability to dance, mindful that our own ability was questionable, at best. So, the soloists took the stage, and at the right time in the song, my partner and I strolled to the area in front of the stage and began to waltz (Not too bad, I must say). As we danced, we remembered that there were supposedly others that were supposed to join us. They never came. So, there we danced, alone, waiting, exposed... Finally, we finished, the crowd clapped, and we, red-faced, went back to whatever we had been doing before the dance.
So, on I went, talking to people I hadn`t seen in a while, trying to meet all the right people, opera-business-wise, that I should. Parties like this are always the same for me. There are times that are incredibly fun, where the conversation is lively, and times where, every body deserts you and you are left alone to look into space and chew on your hors d`oeuvres until someone interesting comes back your way. Well, during one of the less than enjoyable times, the same person that asked me to dance, asked me to join a group on stage to sing a few Japanese songs. The first of the songs, I didn't know at all. The second, I knew the first verse. I really wasn't very into the idea. But, one of the singers I knew and had been talking to at the time helped me transcribe some of the Japanese, so I was running out of excuses. At any rate, there was strength in numbers, I thought, so I thought I could just blend in with the crowd and mouth the words...
Wrong!
One one of the patriarchs of the company, Mr. Igarashi, called up everyone who was to sing, and taking the mic, began to lecture the company on proper Japanese diction, and singing technique, etc. He must be close to 80 years old, and is very passionate about singing, and very opinionated about how it must be done. His way. So as he is demonstrating how to form the proper "oo" vowel sound in Japanese, he looks behind him and catches my eye. And before I knew what was happening, he starts to gesture to me to come up and join him center stage. Reluctantly, I step up to the stage. He then has me demonstrate the proper "oo" vowel sound and then, drops the bomb. He asks me to sing the first song solo for everyone. I told him that I didn't know it, but that I knew the other one. So he said to just repeat after him. I gave it the old college try, but failed miserably. Finally he told me to join the others again. After we all sang the first song, he looks my way again...
Yes, he remember that I had stated that I knew the other song. So, he asked me to sing the first verse (which was all I had ever learned). (As a bit of a side note, the song, "Aka Tonbo", or "Red Dragonfly" in English, is the first song I had ever memorized in Japanese. After Tomoko and I were married, we used to take long walks. On one of those walks, I had asked her to teach me a Japanese song. This was the one she taught me. I believe that I memorized it in just one walk, though she may remember it differently.).
So, I, an American, sang the famous Japanese children's song, "Aka Tonbo" there, in front of many of the top opera singers in Japan. I was a bit nervous, but I think it went well. The crowd seemed to appreciate it and they very warmly applauded my performance. The rest of the singers on stage, about 15 in all, joined me and we finished the second and third verses together.
I will never forget the experience. It just goes to show, that you never know when obscure things you learned long ago, might just come in handy.
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