Section 9

It may have been the result of righteous living, good karma, or stupid good luck, but the entire day rolled smoothly for everyone. The Drama Girls not only picked up credit towards their finals, but also were loaned four monster stadium class speakers, plus the crew to move them. Dr. Chamberlain and Prof. Serabian wanted their department to share production credit with Joanne and Nancy.

The ‘roadies’ turned out to be Jim Chamberlain and Bobby Ortega, the lighting designer, reliving old summer jobs, keeping Rock ‘n Roll dreams alive, if only briefly.

May, April and Zina hit Victoria’s Secret like a hurricane. They found exactly what was needed to keep the sun clothes tantalizingly decent, in exactly the right colors. The credit cards took serious damage, as the inventory was decimated.

Marcie sold the epic saga idea to her chief advisor with ease.

Moving SuLing took less than an hour. She was back in school before 8:30.

She, Melody, Wilhelmina and Polly made out like bandits. At some point, the violin instructor brought the Department Chair into the conversation. Dr. Diane Marcinowski loved anything that made the classics breathe again. She insisted they play their homemade ‘Bolero”, then asked for the play list for today. “You’re opening with 4th/9th Beethoven?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Polly answered. “We plan to play it straight, but with a synthesizer, drums, twelve-string, violin, electric bass, cello and clarinet. Our back-up singers will have incidental percussion duties. No chorale this time around.”

“I like the style and tempo pace. But where is the Western and Motown influence?”

“We just started last night. The Carters, Copeland and California are in the works. Zydeco, Doc Watson, and plain old Texas honky-tonk are too much fun to pass over.”

“Now that you mention Passover, a little Bela Fleck klezmer is never out of place.” The Chainman waxed serious. “Girls, I am a fan of anything that keeps great music in the forefront. If you can make ‘The Grand Canyon Suite’ rock, Ferde Grofé gets a new life. Strip the stuffy elitist label away from classical music and people will listen and be enriched.”

She looked the four tiny girls over. “But I have to say, you four are the last people I would have expected to see on stage taking chances. If this works as I think it will, you will be leading seminars for our summer high school development camps. Show the kids how it’s done.” She addressed SuLing. “Ms MacDonald, stop vibrating. I’ll have a tympani delivered to the venue by 2:30. Try not to break it.” She suspected the little 90-pound waif would pound the drum to pieces.

Phil cleared the concert with traffic control. He dropped broad hints to Schwartzwelder and Johnson that 3:30 would be a nice time to stroll the Art Quad. On the way home at 1:00 he picked up a huge bag of burgers and fries from a mom and pop joint.

All twelve of the girls were home going over the arrangements and set placements. They were dressed already in a random assortment of the gauzy summer wear. “You look great! You’ll still be a hit if you don’t play a note.”

The girls brought him up to speed on the changes while they munched. “Everyone we’ve talked to has been wildly enthusiastic. Do you think were building false expectations?” Zina wondered aloud.

“No” Willy said firmly. “Look at who we are. Two sixteen year old computer chicks not even in school yet, three seventeen year old, sophomore music majors, two theatre tech majors at eighteen, one seventeen year old music/art double major, two eighteen year old art girls, an English and a Biology major, both eighteen. The oldest one is only nineteen and he is another computer geek on paper. On paper, if we don’t trip on our own shadow, we win. If we play half as well as we did last night, we win big.”

“Time to go slay some stereotypes. Lets do this thing!” The girls covered their costumes with sweat suits to stay clean. Polly snatched up her clarinet and ran for the door, leading the girly parade. Phil locked up and the siege began.

Loading out was a lot easier without the speakers. Loading in was even faster with the sudden help. The tympani movers stuck around to see what the fuss was about, and with the Drama guys following Joanne and Nancy’s floorplan, set up was quick. The loudspeakers were placed on the ultra wide banisters. Bobby Ortega drew power from the main service with mega cables. Jim Chamberlain fine tuned the wireless pickups and checked the connections.

Drums (SuLing) at the top, flanked, two steps down by the keyboards and guitars (Willy and Phil). Two more steps, brass (May), woodwind (Polly) and cello (April) were fronted by the violin (Melody). Joanne and Nancy were down front running the mixer and ready to sing their brains out.

Vocalists were scattered in the gaps with microphones at every position. The musicians had hands free headsets.

They tuned up and went into the lobby at 3:20, t-minus ten. The costume mistresses had them loose the sweats and put the borrowed choir robes on to start the show. “This is for the serious treatment of ‘Ode to Joy’. As we segue into ABBA, rip them off with a flourish and toss them aside. Then they see the real band.” Joanne directed.

“When Prof. Martin does the introduction, what does she call us?” Phil asked. “I have to tell her something.”

“Gravity’s Master.” The girls overrode his objections and had their way.

Polly offered, “Try to keep the transitions as we practiced, one song into the next. If we are fortunate enough to get applause, draw out the intro a few bars. Phil and SuLing give the cues. Follow their lead.”

Prof Martin and Dr. Marcinowski stuck their heads in. “Who are you?” Phil gave Marian the name. She raised an eyebrow and turned away. She probably talked to Lanie and Rachael too much for comfort, he thought.

“When she finishes and says your name, start the show.” Diane gave a double thumbs up and left them waiting as she took her place in the audience.

Prof. Martin gave the cue and they exited the building, slowly and soberly taking their places on the stairs. Phil got their attention, smiled and nodded. He mouthed a four count and the concert began as described to Dr. Marcinowski, with the synthesizer, drums, twelve-string, violin, electric bass, cello and clarinet.

They played it straight, but spirited, as the piece deserved. The crowd politely applauded. The energy level grew as they cast aside the robes and Phil picked up the Stratocaster and, with SuLing began the intro into ‘Dancing Queen’. The girls’ harmonies were perfect, with Zina carrying the melody slightly above the others.

The two Drama Girls were playing the mixer like another instrument, not as techies, but as two more members of the band.

The crowd was dancing halfway through the tune and then was rapt as the twins sang, as one clear, bell-pure voice, ‘To Sir, With Love’. Phil knew they sold it when he saw teary eyes in the front row.

The pair really pulled out the stops with ‘Silver Threads’ in a clean segue before the crowd could react. The entire band sang in the background. They brought the house down. In the gap, Zina strolled to the center and stared the audience silent, and straight up wailed the beginning notes ‘Piece of My Heart’. Phil answered with a chord reaching for the sky and the fire was lit. Zina was lost in her zone. SuLing drove the rhythm where it wanted to go.

As Zina’s last cry faded, Emily stepped up and waited for Phil’s cue. She and the others began the Airplane classic ballad, ‘Somebody To Love’. It gave the crowd a chance to catch their collective breath, only to have it taken away when SuLing thumped the opening beats of ‘White Rabbit’ on the tympani with May’s bass. Phil came in on the guitar in sync with Melody’s violin and Polly’s keyboard, followed a measure later by Polly and April on clarinet and cello.

Again, Emily nailed it. As the last ‘feed your head’ echoed, SuLing segued into the “Bolero’ beat ever so softly on the kettle drum, in turn joined by May’s bass. Each round expanded, the clarinet, cello, violin and piano added as the rhythm picked up.

Phil brought the Stratocaster to life and Ravel became raw rock, then syncopated Reggae, morphing into free style Zydeco and back to Dr. John style rock. The Drama Girls maxed out the pots and opened a channel to Mars. The girls soloed and jammed and danced until they were drenched in sweat and kept going.

‘Theme and variations’ gained a new definition.

The leaders gave the sign and SuLing initiated the wind up, giving the others a last chance to show their chops and bow out. An eternity later, only Phil, SuLing and May were playing at max volume and as fast as before. The girls were ready, watching the guitar fret board. He screamed the last notes and raised the neck high. SuLing hammered the cymbals with one hand and the tympani with the other. May punched the final bass chord as Phil dropped the neck. The trio let the notes fade naturally to silence.

The stunned audience, covering the entire quad by now, went totally insane for the next few minutes. The band took a bow as the girls blew kisses.

Phil finally stepped up and tried to quiet the masses. “Thank you all for the tremendous reception. This is only the second time we have played as a group. Basically, this is our second practice.” He grinned at the surprised faces and said. “Now, we’ll show what we can do if we try to rock and roll.”

SuLing counted them in as Willy synthesized a perfect Asbury Park organ. May took up the sax; April grabbed her twin’s bass guitar and fingered it upright like a cello. Melody and Polly blended right in.

The Art Girls snatched any maraca, shekele or castanet they could reach, passing tambourines to the Drama girls at the soundboard.

Marcie and Karen bracketed Phil, dancing like the Supremes on meth and delivering solid background vocals. He sang the melancholy song as he had before while the entire band rocked the chorus. After the second repetition of the final chorus, Willy keyed the Harley sound and they rolled immediately into ‘Born To Run’ with a vengeance.

They actually improved on the homemade version. The improvised secondary percussionists formed a chorus line down front and quickly worked out a routine, adding a dancer one at a time as each picked up the steps Zina started.

Phil had to end it so he signaled SuLing to wind down. He ended it with a wailing solo.

They put the instruments in the stands and lined up for a Broadway style bow. Everyone except, SuLing. She was impatiently waiting behind the drum kit, staring daggers at Phil’s back.

The audience never stopped cheering and stomping the ground. SuLing, taking charge, swept out from behind the drums and up to Phil. “Pay attention bozo, they want an encore.” (Nancy made sure her mic was live.) She dragged the guy more than a foot taller than her to his Stratocaster and pointed. “Guitar. Play. Stones.”

She aimed the hairy eye at the others until they too picked the instruments. SuLing smiled like the sweetest angel ever and returned to her stool.

Phil mugged to the crowd, “She who must be obeyed has spoken. There will be an encore.” He opened the intro.

The band played ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ like it was written for them. The Swensons were in their element and naturally drove the song. Ms MacDonald was as good as Charlie Watts, and kept the volume lower than her usual, matching the Girls’ Cathedral Choir mood for mood.

Phil let the last choir riffs extend and fade, and on the fourth beat after silence, launched the entire band into the first verse of ‘Gimme Shelter’. Except for the altered vocal parts, they played it as Jagger and Richards intended. Anything else would have been sacrilege.