Saturday brings the Trimble’s annual night out to Cineworld to cop an eye and earful of Andre Rieu and his Johann Strauss Orchestra.
Almost as good as being there, and easier on the pocket, the cinema screening of the Waltz King’s hometown gig in Maastricht is an event the wife and I have been attending, complete with secreted Poundland sweeties, for the last few years.
On this occasion we will be joined by Bowhouse Primary School’s best amateur beatboxer and shape thrower – at least he thinks he is – our son Charlie.
It’s a gamble – will a seven-year-old be able to sit through almost two hours of classical music?
I mean, it’s Andre Rieu not Spiderman or Wonder Woman and as far as I know there won’t be any chase scenes – although Andre did once get a lift to the stage in a golf cart driven by his son.
We can only hope Charlie catches Andre’s infectious enthusiasm – I mean the guy literally loves and lives for music so that’s got to count for something to a pre-teen beatboxer.
What I dig the most about Andre is how hard he strives to remove the starch from the, let’s face it, sometimes stuck up, self-righteous classical genre and tries to bring the music he loves to as wide an audience as possible by actually making it – the audacity of the man – fun.
I firmly believe Mozart was the first pop star – an 18th century version of Elton John or Ed Sheeran who wanted folk to shake a tailfeather to his tunes.
I’ve fallen foul of the stuffed shirts in the past who think this kind of music should be best experienced with the kind of expression on your face that indicates pain rather than enjoyment.