Yo-Yo Ma

Went to see Yo-Yo Ma tonight at Symphony Center. There were a lot of what appeared to be suburban high school students occupying several rows of the gallery. One of the ushers kept coming down the steps and bellowing stern admonitions that cell phones were not allowed, and people must put them away. Apparently someone in the first row was unusually obdurate since the ushering staff pulled out the big guns to deal with her. Right after the lights went down, an usher appeared who didn't look eligible for social security (unlike his colleagues), and was also black and had long dreadlocks. He warned a young woman (twice) that she could be ejected for using her cell phone, and then politely wished her an enjoyable evening. As far as I could tell she toed the line after that.

I always enjoy Yo-Yo Ma, and tonight was no exception. He played with an English pianist named Kathryn Stott (in a very sparkly top). The music was marvelous. Yo-Yo Ma has an engaging. loveable quality as a performer. I also appreciate the fact that he doesn't make a big deal of parading on and off the stage after every piece. He accepts the applause and then sits down and gets back to business. I like that.

Recently I read an article about two anthropologists or sociologists or something who named their daughter E, and their son Yo. One reason for doing this was that they wanted to give the kids names that did not sound like names. (There were also other reasons, alas too tedious to get into here). Well sorry to break it  to you Mr. & Mrs. Social Scientist, but I'm sure that with all the hip and cool people Yo-Yo Ma knows, somebody must call him Yo. Maybe his wife or Bobby McFerrin. Also, as my former boyfriend Carl used to remark, it's good to know there's a Yo-Yo Ma out there, since it means there might also be a Yo Ma-Ma.