What an unusual night at the opera.

My wife, daughter and I went to see Chicago’s native son, Andrew Bird, at the beautiful Chicago Civic Opera House last night. And for most of the show, it was a magical evening…for us, the for the audience, and for Bird himself. “I always wanted to play here,” he said, recalling how he used to date a girl in the Lyric Opera chorus and spent plenty of time there in his past. “But I never thought I could.”

Song after song, Bird created intricate sonic tapestries using multiple instruments and a battery of digital loop sequencers. Loops of plucked violin were then augmented with strummed violin, then swooping bowed violin melodies, then he would add whistling figures, then glockenspiel counterpoint, and finally guitar and voice. He became a symphony of himself, backed by an actual 3-piece band on drums, bass and guitar.

After finishing a breath-taking rendition of “Scythian Empire,” Bird launched into a riveting and crowd-pleasing finale with arguably his best-loved song, “Fake Palindromes”. Everyone was completely into it; Bird, the band, the crowd, even the ushers. Without question, the highlight of the show. And then, the unthinkable happened.

First, it became clear that Bird had lost track of the lyrics for the second verse of the song. He got a little flustered, and started to flail around a bit with his arms. And just like that…he accidentally dropped his beloved violin. And it broke in two, right there on the stage floor. And everyone in the house stopped and gasped as one. No one knew what to do.

Slowly, Bird bent down and gently lifted the pieces of broken violin and set them delicately back down in the case. “It looks pretty bad,” said Bird, visibly shaken. In an instant, he had gone from Master Musician making a triumphant homecoming in a gilded venue… to scared little boy who had just wet his pants at his first piano recital. I honestly thought he might vomit right then and there.

He and the band soldiered on for 3 more songs, and the appreciative crowd gave him standing ovations. But the spell had been broken. We all just felt so badly for the guy. He really deserved better than this. It was obvious to even a casual observer that this man LOVED that instrument, truly deeply and genuinely. And he killed it dead, right there in front of our eyes. Right at the moment of what should have been his greatest triumph.