By Rebecca Wallace
About this blog: I grew up in Menlo Park and have long been involved with both local journalism and local theater. After starting my career as an editorial intern with The Almanac, I was a staff reporter for the Almanac and the San Mateo County Ti... (More)
About this blog: I grew up in Menlo Park and have long been involved with both local journalism and local theater. After starting my career as an editorial intern with The Almanac, I was a staff reporter for the Almanac and the San Mateo County Times, covering local government, cops, health/science and many other beats. In 2005 I made the move to the arts desk at the Palo Alto Weekly. A&E is close to my heart because of my experience in the performing arts. I've been acting and singing in Bay Area theater productions for years, and have played everything from a sassy French boy to a Texas cheerleader. In Ad Libs, I blog about the exhibitions I see, the artists I meet and the intriguing new projects and trends I see in the arts world. (Hide)
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The four musicians walked on stage one by one, striking pieces of wood with mallets. Each built upon the last, starting with a single bright "tong!" sound and then layering his own pitter-pats of rhythm on top.
I felt like the sounds took me in all directions at once. Kids in the audience weren't sure what to do. Were they supposed to be quiet? Was this music? My head was bobbing a la "Spring Awakening," but not at the same time as my foot tapping. Yet we all ended up in the same place. When the So Percussion members hit the last note at once, leaving a silence as satisfying as everything that came before, we all thought: "Damn. These guys are good." (Except for the kids, who thought, "Darn.")
To read more about the recent So Percussion performance, go to Ad Libs