Sunday afternoon is both a blurred swath of memory and vividly imprinted with detail on my mind all at once. I remember rolling up pieces of prosciutto for the little post-recital party we had at our place for my parents and some family friends at around 12:30, thinking that it was an odd way to prepare for a concert that was to take place in two and a half hours. I remember seeing the sun break through the promised grey sky, burning it to a clear blue, surprising us happily. I remember pacing furiously backstage, trying to channel my nerves into positive places. I remember moments that I felt fiercely connected to both the text and the music, time seeming to stand still. I remember some moments where time seemed to rush by as I desperately tried to catch them so that I could enjoy them. I remember wishing I could go back and have a second chance at some things. I remember feeling happy and proud of how it went overall. Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Recitalings and Weddings
Sunday afternoon is both a blurred swath of memory and vividly imprinted with detail on my mind all at once. I remember rolling up pieces of prosciutto for the little post-recital party we had at our place for my parents and some family friends at around 12:30, thinking that it was an odd way to prepare for a concert that was to take place in two and a half hours. I remember seeing the sun break through the promised grey sky, burning it to a clear blue, surprising us happily. I remember pacing furiously backstage, trying to channel my nerves into positive places. I remember moments that I felt fiercely connected to both the text and the music, time seeming to stand still. I remember some moments where time seemed to rush by as I desperately tried to catch them so that I could enjoy them. I remember wishing I could go back and have a second chance at some things. I remember feeling happy and proud of how it went overall. 
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3 comments:
That was a lovely recital. I’m so glad I went, even though it took determination to come inside on such a gorgeous day. I particularly enjoyed the Britten canticle--the electricity between the piano and the voice was very compelling. And the Brahms “Sonntag” was so beautiful, and so beautifully done, that it was actually startling. But really, the whole program worked together well as a unit. And I loved the first encore! I was struck again by the same thing that captivated me the first time I heard you—everything sounded so fresh and unmediated, as if you were singing something you had just thought of. (And yes, I realize it takes tremendous artistry and hard work to sound so spontaneous.)
The internet is a strange thing--I had wondered if Anne-Carolyn Bird would show up, because both your blogs have mentioned each other recently; and then I turned, and there she was, easily recognizeable, coming in the door. It’s rather an odd feeling to have a sense of personal knowledge about people, and at the same time realize that you guys have no idea who I am, and I’ve never seen you except onstage. Be that as it may, I do feel enough of a connection to feel pleased and proud of your very successful performance. Congratulations!
Hello Nick... Dan from San Diego Here...
Your brief comment about packing the electric keyboard strikes a chord. I often travel with a 7 pound 4 octave keyboard so the possibility of work is always present. 3 trips this spring left the keyboard dark in my suitcase. Even though I have given this keyboard 3 nice vacations, the thought that real work was always possible makes this strange effort worth it. Worst is the explanation for anyone picking me up as to why my suitcase weighs so much. Enjoy Italy...
Have you encountered those keyboards that are made of a rubber substance sort of like a wetsuit? A full-sized keyboard rolls up into a packet about the size of a pair of binoculars, and they sound pretty good.
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