Piano World Home Page Forums Our Most Popular Forums Pianist Corner - Non Classical Let's Talk Weddings

Or England Dan,

I still think that the Forrest Gump theme (Feather) is an odd choice for wedding music, yet I receive this request all the time. There's the bride walking down the aisle and all I can think is: "Stupid is as stupid does."

At my own wedding (we had a jazz trio) the pianist played Prisoner of Love.

Last night we had an uninvited guest, but very charming guest at the wedding dinner. Right in the middle of the soup course (vichyssoise—it was a hot night), in walked Bruno, an aging Springer Spaniel. His owner had him off his leash in the lobby. After Bruno did a little tour of the bar, the foyer to the gourmet restaurant, and the terrace, he selected the Magnolia Salon as a fine place to settle in. He plopped down under the piano, where he stayed for a few minutes before anyone really noticed. I like to think he enjoyed the music. In fact he seemed to be listening more than most of the people in the room. He was gently escorted out of the salon and taken to the bar, where he was given cocktail snacks and water in a silver dish.

I spent the past week reading through this whole thread, and I just wanted to say thanks to all you contributors for the excellent entertainment and information. I'll definitely keep following it

Thanks, Torre—we've had a lot of fun here over the past few years. Welcome to the party.

I'm headed in for another bride-a-licious weekend. I have two wedding cocktail parties to play at the castle. My son, Curtis, (age 20) is playing for a wedding this weekend, not at the castle but in a "salt of the earth" restaurant not far from where we live. He had a meeting with the bride last week. She ranted about the price of the music, how long the breaks would be (these kids are playing for five hours, which is not for weaklings, I don't care how young the musicians are). She expressed concern about what they would wear, what they would play (her big request is "It's Raining Men," which seems kind of funny), when they would set up, and whether or not they would be TOO LOUD. I would like to hear a nice quiet version of "It's Raining Men."

"What's the matter with these people?" Curtis asked. "This lady was all, like, panicked. I mean, she had steam coming out of her ears."

"Well, you know," I said. "It is the most important day of her life."

"Yeah," said Curtis. "She mentioned that a few times."

Delicious, Robin. You've acquired an almost Hitchcockian deadpan--- or, your son has.

I say 'almost,' only because Alfred Hitchcock was inimitable; truly one-of-a-kind in his mastery of understatement. But, there certainly is a strong family resemblance. Witticisms and martinis--- both best delivered extra-dry, or even drier. Just leave the bottle.

While we're on the subject, if you have spent a lot of time under the piano, as I have, you will appreciate what a very nice spot it is, and no wonder it is a favorite roost of dogs who appreciate the finer things. For one thing, you can see just about everything without being seen yourself--- or even suspected. The ceiling is lovely--- a work of art, really, or at least of craft--- and the space cozy. Then there are the sound effects: marvelous, if you have an ear for a good keyboardist. All my dogs love being under the piano, and I used to sleep there myself (well, I would go there when I couldn't sleep; it is as good a place as any to appreciate the passage of the minutes and seconds, while listening to the wall clock strike off the quarters and hours). Somehow, it is an anchoring influence in the rather hallucinogenic experience of a sleepless night.

Yes, a cozy lair. No wonder the Wedding Dog settled down there with you. Bought off with cocktail appetizers, indeed--- I'm sure he was just being polite, and did not wish to cause a fuss at the wedding party. And besides, dinner is dinner.

"Be careful," said my daughter, Julia, as her brother headed out the door to play his first wedding gig. "One false move and you could ruin the bride's entire life."

Although I am sure he made a false move or two (it was a five hour gig), he did not ruin the bride's life. In fact the bride, who one week earlier had been barking orders like a prison matron, turned into a fairy princess for her big day.

The kids in the band had put together a book of 55 tunes for the event (including the bride's request "It's Raining Men," but because of speeches (a huge part of any German wedding) they only needed about 40 of them.

It was very funny listening to Curtis describe so many of the same things we've talked about here—the drunks, the dancing, the DJ, the waiters.

Curtis is 20, so he still has a bit of BOY in him. The highlight of the evening wasn't the cheering, screaming crowd on the dance floor at the end of the evening, but this:

"Mom," he said. "I think they really liked us. The bride even gave us a piece of wedding cake. Great icing!"

Hi Robin,

Just wanted to say hello and to tell you how much I enjoyed Piano Girl and Waltz of the Asparagus People. I love your writing - your humor and sensitivity.

Terry

I don't know, Robin. At 51, I find that icing has assumed increasing importance in my life. My personal favorite: the whipped icing one can find on the cakes at the Richmond Road Kroger in Lexington. I once sent my poor hubby on a long search to find just the right icing for a cake for my birthday. The poor guy ended up trying to mix up his own concoction (an epic fail involving--I kid you not--Reese's peanut butter cups and the microwave, but I appreciated his effort). I have since relied on pointing to the correct cake/icing combination to my daughter, who passed on the essential tip to her father. Great icing is not to be underestimated indeed.

Thanks, Terry Sweet, for the nice words! You made my day.

Monica, I loved your comments about icing. I am not a big icing fan, but I recently had to make cupcakes for my daughter's birthday. Having spent several hours doing hand to hand combat with a jar of marshmallow fluff (I'm still finding patches of stickiness in my kitchen), I now have the utmost respect for the art of icing.

We're in the middle of a major heat wave in Europe, the land of NO AIR CONDITIONING, so I suspect we'll have a couple of melting brides this weekend, along with a melting pianist. I shall pull out my "little bit of nothing" dress to wear on Saturday—an ivory puff of silk that I wear with a pale pink tulle scarf. Come to think of it, the dress looks a bit like wedding cake icing.

Wow. We've had over a million hits on our "Let's Talk Weddings" thread. Who would have thought that a discussion about playing the piano at weddings and wedding receptions would generate so much interest? I thought—in the whole world—there were maybe fifteen people who cared about this topic.

Many thanks to those of you who have contributed, lurked, commented, laughed, and carried honorary clipboards. Long live the Pachelbel Canon, the DJs, the ring bearers, the wedding dogs, the naked men on the rooftops, the event planners, the slappers, the diva brides, the wheelchair guys, the bartenders and brawlers and boozers.

A special shout out to special contributors Clef and Greg, and a tip of the angel wings to our dear Apple. And a big thank you to PW's fearless leader, Frank Baxter for giving us a place to hang out. I don't think I've had a million ANYTHING in my life, although I may have played a million songs by now (or at least it feels like it). It's an honor to be part of such a wonderfully oddball group.

No one will be paying much attention to what I play tonight, but I shall dedicate each and every song to all of you. Any requests?

More to come.

Play something happy and cheerful, but not too vigorous. Examples: The Blue Room. I Love to Sing. I Whistle a Happy Tune. One Life to Live. Till the Clouds Roll By. More I Cannot Wish You.

How about, "All The Things You (all) Are?"

Great suggestions!

Last night I played for a birthday party that looked like something out of a Downton Abbey episode. Three hot air balloons took flight from the front lawn of the terrace (that's a lot of balloon at one time). This had nothing to do with the birthday party but certainly made for a nice spectacle during the cocktail hour. The dinner was outside in the rose garden, with the tables and chairs covered in white linen and big vases of roses everywhere. The garden paths were lit with torches. The grand piano (Yamaha C5—a rental, in case you're wondering) was situated inside next to huge French doors that opened up onto the outdoor dining area. I've seen a lot of these soirees, but this one was incredibly beautiful. Only thirty people. Five course meal. Wine to die for. I played well—you almost can't screw up in a situation like this. We did have one woman faint, but I don't think it was from the music. She recovered. Everyone was well-behaved. But I left at 10:00. Who knows what may have happened in the wee hours.

Every so often I have an evening like this—where nothing goes wrong and the music does what it's supposed to do—gently accompany an elegant occasion with a little bit of grace and style. When I hit on one of these nights all the other craziness is forgiven and forgotten. Well, almost.

For instance: at last weekend's wedding, a four year boy, who (unfortunately) was very cute, kept running past the piano with his hands over his ears and screaming: "I HATE THIS MUSIC."

His parents, no doubt immune to the kid's bad manners, would smile proudly at me and say: "Little Frederick is so opinionated. His teachers say he is very musical. He has very specific tastes."

I could have dealt with this once or twice, but the child (who looked like a Ralph Lauren poster child) kept it up for two hours. Let me tell you, Little Frederick almost ended up as swan bait in the lake. Lucky for me (and Little Frederick) the DJ took over just in time.

So it goes. The weather is cool and sunny today. The Sunday Champagne Lunch looms. One more round of piano for the weekend. They eat. They drink. I play. I have the better deal.

So tempting to tell a child like this that the swans are specially-trained Ninja Swans, who, at a signal, will fly up onto the terrace and peck out the eyes of bad children. I had considered this for the "wheelchair guy" (so-called; I would call it a tank) who rammed your piano and bruised your side.

As they turn to you to argumentatively demand, "Oh yeah?" you could launch into my suggestion for that special song for the one-millionth hit: "You Never Can Tell."

At other times, Jerry Lee Lewis can be hard to work into a set for an upscale soiree, though the sentiment is certainly suitable. As a plus, this is a very European idea of the kind of story to tell an ill-behaved pest of a devil-child, as the merest glance at The Brothers Grimm (or even the old LaFontaine fairy tales) will show. Maybe a little old-school, but it will be quite familiar to guests from the continent.

Where was Monsieur? I'm sure the castle has special soundproofed holding cells rooms where they could put the 'kiddies' table.' I can picture him smoothly telling the parents, "Yes, indeed, little Damien is certainly a very sensitive young fellow. We have a nice place for the kids, a little further away from the music."

FREE BIRD!

.
.
.

We have all had that yelled to us from somewhere in the back at some points.

In one instance, in a previous life, I was playing in a taiko group and performing during the half-time (or whatever they call the break) at a minor league basketball game. And someone in the stadium yelled Free Bird!!

On that particular occasion, the cliché seemed quite funny.

Best wishes-

Little Frederick and the Ninja Swans
(A Sisters Grimm Classic)

I'm working on it.

Also wanted to add my own "just wanted to say" bit by mentioning how thoroughly entertaining this topic is. And how it inspired me to buy Robin's book (the story on the first page was the only thing that kept me awake this morning at work).

I've never had the pleasure of playing a wedding, which is probably a good thing, considering most of the small talk recollections regarding the event would inevitably lead to something along the lines of, "Shame about the pianist though." It's hard to distinguish my own playing from that of my cat's when he walks on my piano keys at 3:30 in the morning while I'm trying to sleep.

Hey, thanks, El Rustito! Enjoy the book—there are some good wedding stories in PG at the end. Funny, I didn't really do much wedding work until I moved to Europe. I had the cocktail lounge thing covered in NYC, but never "broke through" into the wedding market until I left the USA. But now it's a big part of what I do.

Just let me say that, thirty years ago, if a well-meaning person had told me I would be playing for Indian weddings in a German castle, I never would have believed him. Life can be ridiculous and wonderful, all at once.

Tell your cat I send my regards—does he take requests?

I see in another thread on this forum there's a discussion of the "sostenuto" pedal. I'm thinking Sostenuto would be a fabulous name for a bride in one of my stories.

This week's castle bride, let's call her Sostenuto, was very beautiful. The ceremony was out in the rose garden and she was decked out in a Vera Wang dress that rivaled anything thing I've yet seen in the bridal-wear category. She carried a huge bouquet of tightly packed bright pink roses. Heaven. But, and there's always a "but," there was no live music for the ceremony—just a DJ who, I am not kidding, was playing techno music. I could feel the bass vibrations all the way up in the main hall, where I was playing my regular Saturday night gig. I went outside to check out the scene—there was such a disconnect between the way these people looked and the type of music that was being played. At this point in my career I guess I shouldn't be surprised by these things.

Clef, a few posts back you asked about Monsieur. He left the castle a few years back—he now is a consultant for Michelin-star restaurants, training service teams in the art of graciousness, arrogance, and disdain for small children who insult the pianist. HOW I MISS HIM!!!! But I do see him several times a year at social events. I recorded a piece I wrote for him (called "Pour Monsieur") on my Waltz of the Asparagus People CD and he regularly orders multiple copies to give to the young people he is training. How cool is that? We love Monsieur.

And yes, he would have known exactly what to do with Little Frederick.

Oh, I am sad. My dear Marian McPartland died today, at the age of 95. Many of you know I was on her NPR Piano Jazz program several years ago. We have maintained a pen-pal relationship over the years—Marian wasn't much into computers. Her letters were always vibrant and upbeat, full of encouragement and good advice. I will treasure her friendship forever.

Oh, how she laughed at our wedding stories!

Anyway, if you haven't heard my show with her, here is the link. You can actually hear the smile in her voice.

http://www.npr.org/2012/03/23/100033265/robin-meloy-goldsby-on-piano-jazz