by Terrence von Bülow
I must admit on more than one occasion I have awoken in a cold sweat running my hands compulsively over my pillow.
I had the dream again, the one where I am hired by Maestro Gustavo Dudamel to sing Carmina Burana with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. In performance as I stand in the solo spotlight, Gus is conducting…. going to town…. doing his thing….. I become mesmerized by his hair…. lustrous…. dark…. sensuous…. bouncing curls…. As the orchestra deafeningly blows through the fortissimo passages and the chorus bellows… O Fortuna… velet luna….statu variabilis…. I see my hand, almost as if disconnected from mine own body…. reach out…. extends…. (sidebar: my goodness, my cuticles look good) …. touches…. Gus’…. hair. As the music pounds away I am running my hands through his hair…. per….fec….tion….
It looks like I am not the only one dreaming of running my fingers through G-Dud’s hair as the authorities at the Tel Aviv Ben-Gurion detained him
in order to spend some quality time with the Dudamane for questioning upon arrival for a guest appearance with the Israeli Philharmonic and again prior to his departure. According to the LA Times , “It appears that Dudamel, 32, is considering not returning to Israel based on the unpleasant experiences.” Nice going Israel…. couldn’t you just put an action shot of my man conducting/posing for his close-up for a Pantene commercial as your screen saver like everyone else? WTF?