I am not a fan of classical music. It bores me.
The only classical piece that I really like, can hum and know who wrote, is Antonio Vivaldi's Le Quattro Stagioni.
A considerable contribution to this affection of mine has been made by the violinist Nigel Kennedy who entered the Guinness Book of Records with his performance of Vivaldi's piece.
I rarely, almost never, as a matter of fact, go to classical concerts but consider myself lucky to have attended both of Kennedy's concerts in Sofia, in 1999 and this past week.
I can still remember the first time, when Kennedy's performance shook me so much that I left the hall in some kind of religious ecstasy.
So when on March 17 a colleague called me on my mobile and said that Kennedy has just whizzed past her on his bike and has entered the building of the Musical School in Sofia only a block away from The Sofia Echo office, I grabbed a digital camera, a permanent marker and my press pass for the concert on the following day and ran up Oborishte Street hoping to at least get an autograph.
What I really got was more than I ever hoped for as my uncharacteristic nerve and typical luck got me into the concert hall of the school where Kennedy was rehearsing with the Classic FM Orchestra.
The hall filled up with students from the school and parents.
In a short while Kennedy strode into the hall and got onto the bandstand to the enthusiastic applause of the impromptu audience.
Well, all right, Kennedy is eccentric. I can still remember that he was wearing one blue and one red sock at his previous concert and the somewhat odd tail-coat with the right sleeve missing.
I was prepared for the sight by the diligent reporting of the Bulgarian-language media that this time Kennedy would wear an Arab scarf around his waist and baggy cargo pants. But I did not expect the army boots and the bright orange t-shirt with a radiation sign stenciled on the front.
I did not expect the mug of tea, either. Nor did I expect that he would offer a sip of the tea to half the musicians from the orchestra - not after the reports that Kennedy demanded special food, bed sheets, a special limo and whatnot and I had painted the mental picture of a whimsical mega star who would drink only Perrier and would bring a food taster along.
Amid jokes and badinage, the rehearsal started with Jimi Hendirx's Purple Haze and carried on with the entire Le Quattro Stagioni almost without interruption.
Every now and then Kennedy would stop playing and start teasing one member of the orchestra or another.
Then they would continue playing with so much passion that it was only a matter of time before it was passed on to the audience.
I was on the edge of my seat, listening and watching with gaping mouth as Kennedy was playing, stamping his feet, waving his bow, sweat pouring down the back of his bright orange t-shirt. The orchestra was also getting carried away and would play a few more bars after Kennedy would stop to make a remark.
By the time they played the last notes of L'Inverno, I was in the same religious ecstasy I felt at the concert in 1999, even more so after being able to observe Kennedy in rehearsal, so close up.
The concert on the following evening had Hall 1 of the National Palace of Culture totally packed out, with people standing in the aisles.
Apart from the preliminary announced pieces Kennedy played three songs by Bella Bartok and his trademark rendition of Purple Haze, part of which he played while walking among the audience.
The second part of the concert came after a protracted pause. Those who stayed to the very end of the three-hour concert were treated to Hendrix's Third Rock from the Sun, during which, strangely enough, people started fleeing the hall, Hey Joe, two compositions by the Jarek Smietana Jazz Ban, and a long improvisation on Duke Ellington's Mood Indigo.
Frankly, I did not know that there was a wah-wah pedal for violins, nor that a lyrical and delicate instrument like the violin would be able to screech and moan the way it did in Kennedy's hands during the Hendrix pieces, but then again, Kennedy is a virtuoso. And this is mildly put.
During the second part of the concert the mug of tea from the previous day was replaced by a bottle of beer, from which Kennedy was taking occasional swigs, but was not offering to the others on the stage.
During both parts of the concert, Kennedy was wearing the same Arab scarf and the army boots from the previous day. It turned out that he must have a collection of t-shirts with radiation signs on them as he was wearing the black twin of the orange one from the rehearsal.
At the end of the concert, Kennedy called back to the stage the young musicians from the Classic FM Orchestra and played an encore of Purple Haze.
The only thing I really missed that night was Jovano, Jovanke from Kennedy's newest album, East Meets East with the Polish folk band Kroke.
Maybe next time.