First a disclaimer:
I am not high-brow.
To prove to you that I am not high-brow, one of the very first performances I attended in the inaugural year of the Mesa Arts Center was to listen to Bill Engvall tell potty jokes.
That wasn’t all that happened that night in November of 2005.
A member of the audience in the first row of the balcony laughed so hard that he or she kicked a panel loose. It fell to the floor below but not before bouncing off of another patron’s head leaving a bloody gash.
When I walked out the door cell phone in hand, I looked up and saw Mayor Keno Hawker and Randy Vogel, who oversees the center’s theaters and operations.
They looked at me and blanched. They knew I was about to call the Tribune, which reported the story in the next morning’s edition. Think about that, only one mishap in more than two and a half years and the newspaper’s editor happened to be there. If you were Randy Vogel, well, talk about bad luck.
But I digress.
I was talking about blue collar comedian Bill Engvall and how my spending good money to listen to him tell pick-up truck stories should add to my credibility as someone who finds more happiness wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt than a black tie.
Though we don’t sit under the balcony, the missus and I have attended several performances at the MAC since then and have rarely walked away disappointed.
While I may not be high brow, I don’t mind trying out something new or old for that matter.
I know you’ve heard of Duke Ellington and so have I, but I couldn’t say that I’ve ever deliberately listened to one of his tunes—until a couple of weeks ago.
We had heard that jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsalis had brought the house down (in a good way) last season; so, we bought tickets for this season to hear Marsalis and his Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra play Duke Ellington music.
Let’s put it this way: I occasionally contemplate the hereafter and wonder whether an eternity of listening to harp music is all that it’s cracked up to be. But if it’s Marsalis and his orchestra playing up there, I’m ready.
Within a few days I was back in the MAC listening to an Australian group called Ten Tenors.
It was Valentine’s Day; so I just assumed I was going to listen to 10 crooners sing love ballads.
Nope. They sang Italian arias, the Bee Gees Stayin’ Alive, Freddy Mercury’s Bohemian Rhapsody, Simon and Garfunkel’s The Boxer etc. I wouldn’t call it the music of love, but it did turn Valentine’s Day into another heavenly night.
Our trifecta ended last Saturday night with Los Lobos of La Bamba fame. Within 10 days, we had gone from Duke Ellington jazz to East LA’s Latin beat—and all in a 20-minute drive from our house. You can’t beat that.
The point is the season’s not quite over. Take advantage of this wonderful facility. If you pay sales taxes in Mesa, you’re helping pay for it. Go see a performance in the Ikeda Theater and find out what you are getting for your money. I’m betting you won’t be disappointed.
Finally, on a personal note, thank you Randy and Nancy Wolter, Johann Zietsman and all the folks at the MAC for a great season.
