Jessica Chiccehitto Hindman might not be a great violinist, but she's a very entertaining writer. I was hesitant to read "Sounds Like Titanic" because I don't generally enjoy non-fiction. But her humor engaged me from the start.
In her book, Hindman chronicles four years of
…more her life as a "fake" violinist for an unnamed composer whose music bears more than a little resemblance to the theme song from Titanic. Crowds would flock to hear this music, be it at a farmer's market or a concert for PBS. Listeners threw open their wallets to buy the CDs. But here's the rub -- the musicians' mics were dead and they played along to a CD.
Having read about these concerts, I still don't quite get how they got away with, as Hindman calls it, their Milli Violini performances. Nor, without being able to hear the music myself, do I understand why it was so wildly popular. One of Hindman's conjectures was that people just don't that much attention. I think she has a point. I still haven't reached my conclusion about how "bad" what they were doing was. Yes, it's fraud of a sort, but did it really hurt anyone? Isn't it a good thing to encourage people to embrace classical(ish) music?
Hindman's recollections of the group's travels on their "God Music America Tour" will have you laughing. But the impact on her was not anything to chuckle over. She ended up having panic attacks during every performance and eventually had to spend what sounds like an extended period of time at her parents' home to recover. One of the shortcomings of the book was that I didn't quite understand the connection between her work and the ailment. Why, exactly, was the gig so anxiety-inducing? Guilt, I get. Anxiety, not so much.
The book also became repetitive as the group went to concert after concert after concert. But perhaps that ultimately was the point. (less)