Furman University, a private college just north of Greenville and home of the quasi-famous bell tower by the lake, has a summer concert series we’ve just discovered. It’s not Boston Pops on the Esplanade, but for a college of less than 3,000 undergrads, it’s an impressive schedule.
Last night, we went for the jazz program.
We’ve become increasingly fascinated with jazz over the last few years, so L hears quite a fair amount of it at home and in the car. It’s never among her requests — she’s particularly fascinated with Counting Crows’ music — but she does listen and bob her head about occasionally.
Last night, she simply danced. A little. Generally, she was having more fun throwing Baby down the little embankment where we’d spread our blanket, running to get it, and repeating.
She did calm down for the ballads.
Igor Stravinsky said, “My music is best understood by children and animals.” L seems to understand music on some very primal level: it makes her want either to jump about or to sit calmly. It’s rarely merely “there.” It almost always provokes some kind of reaction.
In an informal atmosphere such as this, that’s just about perfect. Space to dance, an informal mood that doesn’t require silence, well-performed music — what could could a two-and-a-half year old want?
