The key instrument
“I am sorry to bother you, but have you, by any chance, heard of the Inner Vision Orchestra?”
The bus is nearly empty, so as I am standing, my back against the window, just a meter away from him, I assume that the old man who is seated in the priority seat next to the exit door is addressing me.
“No.”
I threw an invisible smile at him. For a start, I am surprised that anyone would talk to me, unapproachable as I look and feel, my head and face dissimulated under a woollen hat, a homemade cloth mask and a huge pair of sunglasses. Remembering a pre-pandemic idealised world, where and when socialising wasn’t prohibited, a time of insouciance and liberty - forever lost like childhood - I take a few seconds to add: “I am sorry, what was that?”
“We are a symphonic orchestra composed exclusively of blind and partially sighted musicians. We are based in London, but we tour around the world.”
A spontaneous but slightly confused “How wonderful” comes out of my mouth, whist I am wondering how much more random this conversation could go.
The old man must have the power to read my mind as he instantly answers: “You should come and join us. We would love to have you.”
I am following up with a truly confused “Oh. Thank you very much. That is very kind.”
As the bus is now approaching my stop, I press the red button. Before I step out, the old man hands me his Inner Vision Orchestra’s business card, written in both braille and Latin alphabets. We exchange a final “Very nice to meet you”/ “Very nice to meet you too”, as I am grabbing the large shopping bag which contains the old, broken and beloved vacuum cleaner that I am carrying to the recycling centre.
Walking down Kentish Town High Street, I see myself touring the world, vacuuming the stages of the most famous Opera Houses, between woodwinds, strings, percussions and brass, to the rhythm of adagios and allegros. I am swirling in harmony with Mozart’s Magic Flute playing extravagantly in my head, tiptoeing between bassoons, flutes and clarinets, gliding between violas, violins and cellos, jumping through triangles and cymbals and over timpani drums, and exulting with trombones, French horns and trumpets.
Acclaimed by the public and praised by critics as the most famous vacuum cleaner player in symphony history, I am receiving my first Orchestra Player Award from the Royal Philharmonic Society: “I would like to express my deep gratitude to my dear friend and fellow musician [insert name of old man met on the bus] who, in a particularly difficult time during the pandemic, invited me to join the Inner Vision Orchestra. It has changed my life in a deep and meaningful way, beyond anything I could ever have imagined… blablabla…”
Applauses.
I bow and throw another and larger invisible smile into the ether, as I drop the key instrument of my new career into the dumpster.
