Sufjan, Altruism, and the Seven Swans of the Apocalypse

Photo Courtesy Flickr User Coldbrains

8:00pm It was a cold, cold night - well below freezing. I roll down Constitution and start shooting up streets in the 20’s for the Kennedy Center looking for parking. Much to my chagrin I end up on 19th and E. Starbucks? Nah. It’s not that cold. Four blocks later my hands are made of stone; I’ve got my scarf wrapped around my face and forehead at this point. Jane call’s. “I’m almost there boo…fingers…freezing…gotta go.” At this pointing I’m thinking it wasn’t half as cold waiting for the tickets as it was walking to the actual performance.

8:15pm Holy hell, fingers red and achy. Find Jane in the hall of nations, along with some Target reps - a hell of a lot of champagne (free) and some free playing cards with photos from the previous Millennium Stage performances. Pretty cool - and I can always use a deck of cards. Aviva arrives shortly thereafter, after some confusion as to which side was the hall of states vs nations. And where am I dragged to? Target hell (or heaven) - depending on your perspective. Upstairs (while not widely known to everyone downstairs apparently) there was a room lit up red like the fires of hell - temptations at every turn - chocolate fountains, pretzels (for the dipping), chocolate cookies, cake, Rice Krispies treats, and all sorts of loose white chocolate covered pretzels, m&m’s, liquorice, Swedish fish, etc. So yeah, filled a waffle cone (the girl filled her pockets) and we ran…

8:40pm So it’s time to figure out who the lucky recipient of the “Golden Ticket,” as it was referred to the rest of the night, would be. I took a stretch down the sidewalk from hall to hall looking for a cold, lonely person wanting a ticket oh-so-badly and to no-avail. It looked as though security took care of ticket panderers. I walked back down the sidewalk - sucked-back a cigarette before I freeze to death and headed for the big screen areas in the mob/mass of people sitting and awaiting the beginning of a show they waited (most likely) outside in the cold for a week earlier. In a mousy sort of way, as not to create a mob, I assert that I have a ticket, “Does anyone need a ticket, I’ve got an extra here.” Most everyone there was in 2’s or 3’s and couldn’t seem to seperate from their significant other/s. Aviva points out someone hiding out directly behind me, jaw dropped to the ground, sitting in a stupor at the idea that there’s a ticket just hanging out in front of him, waiting to be given away. I turn. I ask him if he’d like it. He asks me, “Why are you giving me this.” I said it was extra - he smiled HUGELY and ran (not a fast walk, he ran) to get in. Shit balls! The lights are flashing and now I realize why he’s running - we dash. Down the center, to the left…and yeah. Amazing seats. And I get a pat on the back and another smile (the guy grinned the whole show) from the benefactor of our altruism. (At no point did I consider selling the tix for an exorbitant price on Craig’s List. There’s just way too much bad karma around it.)

…so here’s t he question that lingers in my mind. So we got lucky and got some tickets. It was utter chaos even at 8am and people were wandering up with coffee - no way to tell who had/hadn’t been there and the line started to form. I wasn’t about to try and figure out who was who - I just hung out - didn’t move and I GOT tickets. Standing and listening to the mob talking about how they were deciding who had/hadn’t been waiting all night by whether their hair was washed or not was amusing. I’m seriously wondering at this point if the people ALL the way at the end of the line have done the math or if its more of a ‘how scene am i’ thing. The question stands: is there some kind of unspoken-die-hard-requirement of get there 26 hours pre-ticket-give-away to ensure tickets if you’re a “fan”. Regardless - I don’t have the time or energy to be a part of that - there’s no place reserved in my brain for empathy for music elitists (those that got the tickets and bitched about people that hadn’t camped, nor those that didn’t get tickets and flamed all over dc’ist and craigslist about (a) not getting tickets or (b) people that waited, got them, and then tried to sell them for exorbitant prices (subquestion, how much is your time worth? if i waited 24 hours, hell, if i waited 2 hours for tickets in the freezing cold, my time might be worth $300 bucks too) - anyway I came, I waited, I gots me some tickets. Oh yeah. (Note: In response to my own commentary here I will say that I do believe that scalping the tickets does oppose everything that the free concert series stands for - but still - not everyone shares the same set of values. To each his/her own. ’nuff said.

So - as far as I can compile, from memory and a compendium of friends memories this is the setlist as follows:

1. concerning the UFO sighting…
2. detroit, lift up your weary head!
3. casimir pulaski day
4. counting song
5. sleeping bear, sault st marie (first live performance)
6. chicago
7. the predatory wasp of the pallisades
8. seven swans
9. majesty snow bird (unreleased)

I don’t want to try and wax musical-officianado  on this so I’m going to put it simply.  His intricate rhythms, the softness of his voice, the magnificence of the orchestra, the delicate twinkling of the celesta, the pounding of the bass, the drums playing against  and with sufjan, at-times-out-there time signatures made for a mix I doubt I’ll get to see again.  It was a very unique experience, truly, from the dynamics that the Millenium Stage opera house creates, to the simple fact that I’ll probably never see Sufjan in a tie again.  All in all - I’d do it again - and no number of swans could stop me.  Thank you Kennedy Center, and thank you Sufjan.