Last of the Romantics

As if this unexpectedly balmy weather isn't enough to make a girl swoon, there was romance the whole night long.

Classical Revolution RVA was doing an evening called "Romantic Incarnations," so I dug up a (couple) date; left my windows open and met them at Balliceaux.

With a bottle of Domaine de Rome Sancerre and seats near the back, we were ready to hear music from the Romantic period as well as just plain romantic music.

And, let's face it, few words are as subjective as "romantic."

But Holmes and his beloved know music so I think they'd have enjoyed their first Classical Incarnations no matter what kind of music was played.

We'd missed the very beginning of the show, walking in on Alex playing violin to Debussy's "Beau Soir," followed by Stephanie singing an aria to organizer David's piano.

Andrew and his classical guitar got the award for Best Costume, coming onstage with his shirt collar up and tie unloosened, saying, "You may have asked yourself, why is he wearing his tie so ridiculously."

Seems he was emulating the look of composer Francisco Tarrega. "Google him and you'll see in the first picture that comes up. I wanted to present in the style when it was composed."

Okay, so I did look it up when I got home and he was right.

Like many other Romantic composers who incorporated their country's folk music into their compositions, Tarrega's "An Arabic Caprice" had a decided Muslim-sounding element.

At least until the guy in the bathroom near our seats dropped the toilet lid and it reverberated right to the fifteen-foot ceiling in there.

On the other hand, this is exactly what Classical Revolutions set out to do: put classical music in a relaxed bar setting instead of a concert hall.

Talking, moving around and probably even lid-dropping are all fair game, and by those standards, tonight's crowd was fairly sedate.

During intermission, I checked in with Holmes & Co. to make sure they were enjoying themselves, but then how could any music-lover not enjoy a free night of classical musicians choosing their own music?

An anniversary card was being passed around because tonight marked the end of Classical Incarnations' first year, a cultural milestone.

David came out alone to do a technically demanding Chopin scherzo, all flying fingers and, if you ask Holmes, excess of bass.

I don't presume to hear such things.

We saw two classical guitarists from VCU and a violinist named Nathan who did a lullaby written by the man he called "the czar of violinists" and for his son, Antoine.

Holmes, ever the card, leaned over and observed sotto voice, "If I were up there to play my viola, I'd tell a few viola jokes first."

I thought that was pretty hysterical.

Classical guitarist Andrew returned to give a shout-out to VCU's school of music, commenting on how many VCU alums and students were performing tonight.

"We're so lucky to have VCU in our city," he reminded everyone.

He was finishing the evening with three pieces, but first he explained to us why Liszt was the original rock star.

He was a notorious home-wrecker. He had amazing chops, touring Europe to great acclaim. He organized the first benefit concerts for earthquake relief, and then referenced Live Aid, although I'm not sure he was born yet.

I'd say Andrew made a pretty good case for Liszt.

His final song was one he said he'd learned just last night. "This last one will be short and sloppy and for that I ask your forgiveness."

As discussed with my crack team of a date, we only heard short, not sloppy.

"So that's it. We're done," David said unceremoniously to let us know it was time to exit, stage right.

It was a tad jarring after all that high quality romancing we'd just had.

But since it was still early, Holmes and the near-Mrs. invited me back for some left coast bubbles he'd recently picked up.

Treveri brut rose was not only looked like the most gorgeously feminine of pinks, but tasted that way, too, with lots of strawberry and just enough crispness.

I was invited down into the man cave, where the music, the bar and the comic book collection dwell along with the dust of ancient civilizations.

Holmes was in charge of music, although he also took requests and moderated discussions about song tempos (see: "Layla," "After Midnight" et al) when required.

Necessarily, the music followed Holmes' curve, coming as it did from his CD collection, so Byrds (I do love a twelve-string guitar), Gene Clark, Patty Griffin, that ilk.

The most unusual request came from Beloved and was for a CD of music that was played during the Kennedy years in the White House, stuff like Pablo Casals, Mahalia Jackson and Count Basie, something she'd picked up at the VMFA.

It even included the overture to "Camelot," which has one of the most romantic songs ever written.

But if I'd ever leave you
It couldn't be in autumn
How I'd leave in autumn, I never will know
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air
I know you in autumn
And I must be there

Drinking pink bubbles and listening to more romantic music, now that's the way you keep the evening's theme going.

Even solo.