Eicca, Perttu, and Paavo of Apocaplyptica
“Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
For our anniversary, Corey surprised me with tickets to the Apocalyptica show at the Norva on Wednesday night. We first discovered this Finnish group several years ago, and I had told Corey that if they ever came here, I wanted to see them.
Surprise for me . . .
Brett and his girlfriend Emilie went with us to the show; it was Brett’s first concert. It was a wonderful show. The Norva is not a big venue, so I didn’t have that whole crowd anxiety thing going, and Corey and I managed to grab two stools to sit on. The two warm-up bands were not bad. The first one was head-banging (my favorite . . .), but I didn’t mind them too much. The second band, 710, is a group of local boys, and they were pretty good as well. I love to hear an electric guitar played well.
But the headliner was the whipped cream on the sundae for me. I love these guys—their music is awesome, and they are so wonderful to look at, I must admit. But the things they can do with a cello . . . absolutely amazing. I’m including two videos: The first one I’ve posted before, and it’s older, but my favorite, “Nothing Else Matters,” and the second one is “Hall of the Mountain King,’ by Edvard Grieg, which they played as their final encore. Even if you don’t like them, you should watch the second one just to see how fast Perttu flies on his 19th century instrument. It is perfection in action.
I wish that I had thought to bring my camera so that I could have recorded. Corey got a few pics with his phone, but the sound is awful. A few people have posted YouTube vids of a few songs (search Apocalyptica at the Norva on YouTube if you are interested).
Enjoy. More later. Peace.
(Background: Apocalyptica is a cello rock band from Helsinki, Finland. The band, which was originally a Metallica tribute band, is composed of classically trained cellists Eicca Toppinen, who founded Apolyptica in 1993, Paavo Lötjönen, and Perttu Kivilaakso. All three are graduates of the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki. Drummer Mikko Sirén joined the band full time in 2005.)
“The noble man’s soul has two goals
To die or to achieve its dreams” ~ Abdelrahim Mahmud, “The Martyr”
Death, dying, and living on the mind lately. I’ll try to write tomorrow.
Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros were killed Wednesday in Misurata, Libya. Hetherington was a conflict photographer and director of the Afghan war documentary “Restrepo,” and Hondros (click links to see some of the brilliant images taken by these two photojournalists) was one of the top war photographers of his generation. Two other photographers, Guy Martin and Michael Christopher Brown, were injured while working with Hetherington and Hondros.
From Plato (read at memorial service):
The souls of people, on their way to Earth-life, pass through a room full of lights; each takes a taper — often only a spark — to guide it in the dim country of this world. But some souls, by rare fortune, are detained longer — have time to grasp a handful of tapers, which they weave into a torch. “These are the torch-bearers of humanity — its poets, seers, and saints, who lead and lift the race out of darkness, toward the light. They are the law-givers, the light-bringers, way-showers, and truth-tellers, and without them humanity would lose its way in the dark.
It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened earlier. Later.
Nearer. Farther off.
It happened, but not to you.
You were saved because you were the first.
You were saved because you were the last.
Alone. With others.
On the right. The left.
Because it was raining. Because of the shade.
Because the day was sunny.
You were in luck — there was a forest.
You were in luck — there were no trees.
You were in luck — a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake,
A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant …
So you’re here? Still dizzy from
another dodge, close shave, reprieve?
One hole in the net and you slipped through?
I couldn’t be more shocked or
how your heart pounds inside me.
~ Wislawa Szymborska