Wednesday evening, I threw my violin case over my shoulder and we headed to the Parian again. The Aguilas were there, but they didn't seem to recognize us from the night before. Also they were being monopolized by a very sad group of young men, all drinking giant bowls of something alcoholic, and requesting song after song of cry-in-your-beer music. Had they just lost a compadre in a gang confrontation? Or were they just missing their girlfriends? Whatever the case, they held on to the musicians for a good hour or so at least.
Meanwhile we saw and heard another group of mariachis in another restaurant (remember, the only thing to separate them is the color of their table coverings) so went to sit by them, hoping for a chance to buy some songs and a chance to play. Monopolizing THEM was a couple- an older man and a girl too young and cheap looking to be his wife- and he bought song after song, impressing his date, we figured. She sang with them, and the couple danced, and we sat and waited.
One of the young violinists noticed my case and asked if I was a philharmonic player. His violin was really beautiful, with abalone inlays for the perfuling and a carved face of Beethoven on the back. About this time, the couple released the group, and the young violinist, whose name was Isaiah, or something close, asked if he could see my violin. He and his compadres were very interested in my violin, wanting to know where it came from and how much I paid for it. Isaiah played it a bit and then told me that the space between the strings over the bridge is too narrow. And for just a minute we played together the opening section of Son de La Negra, one of the three songs I know. Then he had to leave. The nightly folklorico show was about to start. He said I sure could play with his group. But we stayed till after 11:00 and the folklorico wasn't done yet, so we left. The next two nights were out, so tonight I will try again!
Meanwhile we saw and heard another group of mariachis in another restaurant (remember, the only thing to separate them is the color of their table coverings) so went to sit by them, hoping for a chance to buy some songs and a chance to play. Monopolizing THEM was a couple- an older man and a girl too young and cheap looking to be his wife- and he bought song after song, impressing his date, we figured. She sang with them, and the couple danced, and we sat and waited.
One of the young violinists noticed my case and asked if I was a philharmonic player. His violin was really beautiful, with abalone inlays for the perfuling and a carved face of Beethoven on the back. About this time, the couple released the group, and the young violinist, whose name was Isaiah, or something close, asked if he could see my violin. He and his compadres were very interested in my violin, wanting to know where it came from and how much I paid for it. Isaiah played it a bit and then told me that the space between the strings over the bridge is too narrow. And for just a minute we played together the opening section of Son de La Negra, one of the three songs I know. Then he had to leave. The nightly folklorico show was about to start. He said I sure could play with his group. But we stayed till after 11:00 and the folklorico wasn't done yet, so we left. The next two nights were out, so tonight I will try again!
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