The music of Peter and the Wolf was mesmerizing, hypnotic even. It created vibrant colors that painted pictures in my mind. Each character likened to an instrument. I could envision a bounding, chaste, little boy when hearing the strings, a stealth, murky wolf with the French horn, a fluttery bird as the flute, a cheeky cat as the clarinet, a clumsy duck as the oboe, and an old, ambling grandfather as the bassoon. The feelings that surfaced with each different sound stunned me; I was moved. How could I feel fear at the sound of the French horn? Dread at the sound of the oboe? I was no stranger to classical music. I'd been to symphonies at a young age and loved classical music, but this, Peter and the Wolf, was different.
My love for Peter and the Wolf lives on. As soon as Parker was old enough I introduced him to the composition. I found myself back on the floor; this time intertwined with my 2 year olds limbs, and sprawled on a circular rug with elephants and balloons. I might as well have been back on Grandpa's floor though. The same feelings I had 30 years ago came flowing back, and all I wanted to do was have Parker experience them too, have him moved by the music. To my delight he loved it, and still does. To more of my delight Reid loved it and we listen to the composition all the time. It's a staple in our car cd player.
A few months ago we were alerted to a show at the Sydney Opera House of Peter and the Wolf by the Sydney Youth Orchestra. The Opera House has amazing shows for children through a program called Kids at the House. The show was a Saturday matinee in the main concert hall. Done! Tickets purchased, we were going! Upon reflection, I should have done a wee bit more research on the show before subjecting our - how do I say - fainthearted, wimpy, pusillanimous boys!
It was a magnificent Sydney day, the sun was shining and not a cloud to be seen. The boys dressed in their fine wears were buoyant and energized.
...oh shit. How was THIS going to play out?!
Now, as I previously stated, our boys are not brave, far from it. They hide behind the couch during certain Octonaut episodes. I'm pretty sure Elmo has terrified them before! This was going to be interesting.
As the audience quieted I could feel Parker's energy shift. He gripped the handles of his theater seat like a frightened airplane traveler in a bout of turbulence, and stared wide-eyed at the stage. Reid, still somewhat clueless, was entertained with his folding seat. I began pointing out the instruments on stage, drumming his memory about which instruments were which characters. The lights went out and the narrator appeared. The narrator was extremely entertaining and engaged the child-filled audience while he introduced the orchestra and instruments. Then the movie began accompanied by the orchestra.
Within the first 30 seconds both boys were curled in their seats, bodies half-way in my and Mark's laps fearfully whispering, "I'm scared, I want to go!" I was bound and determined to make them sit through this. I wanted to summon my inner cheerleader and shout, "Come on boys! You can do this!" Instead I just whispered, "It's ok, it's pretend, close your eyes and listen to the music." At this, Parker curled in the fetal position and turned his back to the screen. What kind of psychological damage were we doing to our children?! My blissful childhood experience on the soft fur rug was unraveling before my eyes!
To be fair the movie was dark and creepy. Even Peter was spooky looking. Another 30 seconds in, before the wolf had even made an appearance, Reid's incessant cries of, "I want to leave!" sent Mark racing toward the exit. Parker continued pleading to leave, but I told him we would stay and brave it together. My body arched in his chair, I wrapped my arms around him like the wings of a mother bird and whispered, "You can do this!" As the wolf appeared I said, "Look, he's fuzzy and soft looking and has pretty eyes." Thankfully the composition leaves room for comic relief in the cast of characters, enough comic relief to keep Parker from flying out of the concert hall. I bellowed with hearty laughter at anything funny to keep the air light. However, I thought I was doomed when the wolf ate the duck. As the duck ran to the open arms of his friend Peter the wolf gruesomely caught him, threw him in the air, and with his head in the howling position swallowed the duck whole; I gasped. Parker's mouth agape and eyes bulging, he was stunned into silence. Elsewhere in the hall children wailed in sorrow at the gloomy demise of the beloved duck. At this point, the damage was done, I figured I'd throw $20 in the therapy jar when we got home and call it a failed lesson in bravery.
Mark and Reid, having regained composure, came back for a second attempt. Fortunately they missed the ghastly duck gobbling. The boys sensing the tide turn braved the end needing to root for the hero once he caught the wolf by the tail. And then, it was over, PHEW! The boys applauded vigorously, clearly because it was over. The relief was visibly written on their little faces. Mark and I gazed at each other with one of those, "damn this on-the-job-training" looks.
Regardless of the long-term damage we caused, the boys slept peacefully and haven't spoken about the horror film since. It was the damn movie and not the music that sparked their utter fear! Damn artsy films! Anyway, I rest peacefully with the beautiful music of Peter and the Wolf continuing to dance gracefully in my memory. I will always hold the sounds and senses of my brothers and me tangled together on the wolf fur rug very close to my heart. And someday I hope to play the Peter and the Wolf composition for the boys without triggering their post-traumatic stress disorder.
