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Ryan Sylander
Opus One Chapter 33: 104' 33"
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/
THE WEXFORD CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC
JOINT NON-DEGREE RECITAL Tuesday, April 9, 1996 7:00 pm, Wexford Hall
Sandra d’Arcy, soprano Emily Rathbourne, horn Riccardo Mazzini, piano
PROGRAM
Drei Morike Lieder (1888) ……… Hugo Wolf (1860 – 1903) I. Auf ein altes Bild
Allison had gotten there early, wanting to take in the atmosphere of the conservatory. She had called to let Emily, Sandra, and Richard know that she had arrived safely, but she rejected the offer of lunch, not wanting to distract them before their recital. We’ll have fun the rest of the week, Allison thought. Right now they should focus on themselves. She wandered around on the lowest floor, passing by the practice rooms which were all full of students. Recitals and concerts must be happening nonstop at this time of year. She paused beside some of the doors when the music caught her attention. Amazing. The density of musicianship here is astounding… This could have been me. Maybe… She found herself in a seat ten minutes before seven. Already, there were a number of people in the concert hall. What a beautiful place…! It must be amazing to get up there and play, she thought, looking at the dimly lit piano. It stood there on stage, waiting expectantly to be touched. She imagined herself standing in front of the curve of the instrument, holding her flute as she looked out at a full house. What a thrill…! She glanced around at the growing crowd, taking in the details. Many carried instruments. They’ve made some friends this year… That must be Richard’s parents, speaking Italian… A young man with a cowboy shirt on… Must be from Sandra’s family, here to see her. Who is this striking woman speaking Russian to the American man? Richard’s teacher is Russian, I think, but this woman is way too young to be a piano teacher. My age, I’d say… She’s intense… And the older man with the young woman? Are they together? They talk like they are, but they must be twenty years apart in age… Who is the man with the red-haired woman? A few musicians have gone up and shook his hand. Probably someone important here at the conservatory. She turned. Here come more people. They look like random concert goers. Lots of older couples, music aficionados… And why not? Free concerts almost every night… It’s a gift. What an interesting crowd… Then again, I came all the way from Australia for this… She turned back to the stage as the lights dimmed in the hall, and people quieted and took their seats. The performance lights were raised, and then the hall settled into silence over the next few seconds as the air filled with expectancy. Allison smiled a big smile as Sandra appeared from the left. She almost didn’t see Richard behind her, so taken was she with Sandra’s appearance and carriage. What a beautiful dress… The audience applauded as the two of them took their places on stage. She’s a natural, up there. Captivating… As the applause ended, Richard shared a smile with Sandra, and then he began. Allison listened to the first melancholy phrase of his playing, and it instantly set something new vibrating inside her. It’s really begun… Sandra entered soon after, with a delicate melody. I thought I remembered how she sang, but… This is beautiful… The mood she felt surprised Allison. She had been living on excited enthusiasm for the past week, waiting to fly across the globe and sit in this chair with almost pounding heart. Now, she was suddenly transported somewhere completely unexpected, as the haunting and subdued song that Sandra and Richard performed made her insides reach towards them in longing. How quickly music can make us love… And miss… And cry… Allison let herself be carried away by the sound of Sandra’s voice and Richard’s piano chords. It’s a world of art, and beauty, really. Nothing compares to this. Nothing. When the song approached the end, Allison sat still, wishing for it to continue. She didn’t want to let go of the place she now occupied. The song had been a little jewel, and she still wanted to hold it in her hand and feel its soft light on her. No one coughed or even shifted as Richard damped the last chord in the piano and turned the page in his music. Then Sandra smiled slightly, catching sight of Allison in the audience. Allison realized there were more jewels to come. With a last pang of longing, she let the feelings go and looked forward to the next selection. Sandra nodded at Richard, and he began the accompaniment for the second song. She turned back to the audience to sing, and the first note caught in her throat. Richard looked up at her, for a second pausing. She had missed the entrance. He repeated the introductory figure, unsure of what else to do. Allison watched nervously as Sandra stared out over the audience towards the back of the hall. For a moment, she seemed frozen still. Then her face took on a serene quality, and she began to sing. Allison relaxed, glad Sandra had recovered, and she let herself be drawn in by the music again.
II. Verborgenheit
Eugene sat perfectly still in his seat. He kept his face unmoving as he listened. Here before him were two of his students performing. It’s been over a year since I’ve attended a student recital, he realized with surprise. He used to attend more of them, before he had become head of the theory department and paperwork had invaded his life. Usually when he was in the audience, he found himself working out the theory of the music, and critiquing the performance. That part hasn’t changed… Did they analyze the piece? He found himself doing so at certain moments, sighing in satisfaction at the brilliant use of harmony by Herr Wolf. “Seine Wonne, seine Pein.” A classic Romantic cadence… They play well together, Eugene thought. There’s a certain calmness to their playing that I don’t remember hearing from many freshman students. Most are too nervous to play with anything approaching calmness. Most don’t even do recitals, though. He could tell Sandra had command of the performance. I can even follow her from the back row. He wasn’t sure how much of the accompaniment was Richard’s doing, and how much was just Sandra guiding him inevitably through it. Richard seems to have a good touch on the piano, but he’s obviously a concert pianist, he thought, when they reached the animated section of the song. He overplayed there somewhat. Too much, for how Sandra chose to sing it. An understandable mistake, since he probably hasn’t done much accompaniment. And they are first year students, after all… But what students… He looked at each of them. Sandra’s statement on my behalf could be no one else’s. She has so many talents… And one letter was surely Richard’s, just from the references to weekly meetings. No one else coming to me outside of class would have written anything. For someone who seemed ready to start fights with me last semester, Richard has certainly changed his mind about theory. And the other ten letters were likely spawned by their efforts… It probably made the difference, in the end… Without them, I might not have returned… What students… This is one recital I wouldn’t have missed for anything. The piece ended quietly by repeating the classic Romantic cadence, and Dr. Dobra sighed deeply. It was his only outward show of emotion, but since he was in the last row, no one saw it.
III. Das verlassene Maegdlein
If Billy had been sitting in the audience, he would have been watching Sandra with wet eyes. He had heard Sandra sing for most of his life. He knew how much it was a part of her. He could no more imagine her not singing than he could imagine his father not being out in the fields of their farm in the morning. He would have been amazed, however, at seeing her on the stage at Wexford. In his mind, during lonely nights at his college, he would wonder what she was doing at school. He would always picture her practicing like she did at her house. Perhaps playing with a faceless man named Richard, or alone... But it was nothing more than what he had seen countless times when they were together. The background had changed, but she was always ready to go out on the town with him after she was finished. Now, she was elegantly and stunningly dressed, singing with her heart under the bright lights. This was real. She would be gaining more and more followers, as she collected people’s hearts with her moving performances. No longer was she only Billy’s to admire from afar. The brook they used to play in as children had swept her far away to the ocean, now. Even with his untrained ear, Billy would have felt the musicality in what she did. It consumed anyone who was really listening and watching. It was part of her. He could no more imagine her not playing music than he could imagine… himself without her… She was a part of him. But Billy was not in the audience. Instead, he listened from somewhere immeasurably distant, yet also within her. With no time or air there, notes and sounds had no meaning in that place. But the emotions with which Sandra sang… They vibrated and shook his entire existence. He supported her, and through her memories he changed her. He imparted her with strength, grace and radiance. He at last succeeded in having her let go of him, even though he would never let go of her. He listened.
Morgen! Opus 27, No. 4 ……… Richard Strauss (1864 – 1949) With Suzanne Wright, violin
As Suzanne walked out onto the stage, she smiled at Sandra. She looks… radiant, Suzanne thought. As she did every time she looked at Sandra’s eyes, Suzanne felt a spark inside of her. It was doubly pleasing tonight, since they were about to perform together. After a last lingering look, she turned to Richard. She had met this interesting trio just two weeks ago, and yet it felt like she had known them forever. What would have happened had I met them earlier? With a slight movement, she cued Richard for the start of the piece, and she projected the richly languorous notes of the opening melody out into the hall. Richard supported her with gentle chords and harp-like arpeggios. She looked at Sandra several times during the introduction. Sandra kept her eyes on hers, and Suzanne again felt the musical connection she always did. Suzanne used a heavy vibrato in her left hand, trying to draw the sweetest sound out of her violin. It wasn’t enough for her, as she still found herself lamenting the limitations of her instrument. After meeting and playing music with Sandra, she knew she could do so much more. Then Sandra entered with the first line of the song. Suzanne let out a shuddering breath as she intertwined her violin with Sandra’s voice. Behind them, Richard continued his delicate accompaniment, increasing its intensity only slightly. She followed Sandra closely through their duet, reveling in the sound of the notes they struck in harmony. Their lines moved separately, but like two perfect ballet dancers, completely together. Suzanne could feel her touch as they lifted each other through each graceful phrase. All too soon their delicate and loving conversation was over. Suzanne was left alone for a moment, and she descended quietly and slowly through the end of her violin melody. Richard held the uncertain chords as Sandra sang the last part of the text alone. Suzanne thought back to that night in her apartment two weeks ago when Sandra had escaped out of her depression by singing this song with her. Even though the moment had been magical, that night Suzanne hadn’t known what the German text said. Sandra’s voice turned fragile. She once again looked at Suzanne’s eyes and finished the vocal melody with a hopeful cadence. Now Suzanne knew the words, and knew Sandra, and it made her very soul resonate… Suzanne gave everything she had to her last six notes. She hoped Richard would wait for her, since she held the second of each ascending pair of notes for what seemed like a minute each. She yearned for Sandra’s voice to return to sing with her, but like a sunrise, the unique moment of beauty had passed, unattainable ever again except in memory. The final chord faded into silence before the audience broke out into enthusiastic applause. “Brava!” came a man’s deep voice. Suzanne and Sandra moved closer and shared a smile. When Richard was beside them, they bowed twice. Suzanne stepped back, and she and Richard let Sandra take a bow on her own. After smiling at the appreciative audience for a few more moments, the three of them walked off the stage. Once out of sight, Suzanne immediately turned and embraced Sandra, kissing her. “Beautiful!” she said softly. “Oh, you too!” Suzanne felt Richard wrap his arms around them both. “That was incredible,” he said, breathing deeply. “You two must share the same brain, or something.” They laughed, but didn’t dispute the idea. Suzanne stepped back as Emily also gave them both hugs. “That was unforgettable,” Emily whispered, as the hall had quieted. “I was crying.” Sandra smiled emotionally and hugged her again. “Thanks. For everything. I love you so much, Em.” Suzanne watched as they shared a chaste but emotional kiss. Emily sighed, and then shook loose her arms. “My turn, I guess.” The nervousness was apparent in her voice. “Go out there and just play, Emily,” Suzanne said, giving her another hug. “Have fun. You won’t have this day again.” “I know. I hope I can live up to that last song.” “You will, Emily. I know you will,” she whispered. Richard came up and put his hands on Emily’s shoulders from behind. “Are you ready?” he murmured. “Almost. Just give me a second to calm down.” Sandra wrapped her arms around Richard’s middle. “You were right there for me, Richard. Thanks.” He kissed the top of her head, and then her lips gently. Then he gave a little smile and went to wait with Emily. They stood near each other as they watched the stage manager walk back towards them. The stage was set. “Good luck, both of you,” Suzanne whispered. She gave them each a confident pat on the arm, and then she and Sandra moved deeper into the darkness of the side stage, finding some chairs. Sandra took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thanks, Suzanne, for playing.” “Any time. I love playing with you. I just wish I’d met you sooner.” “We’ll play again, someday,” Sandra said, searching her eyes. “I hope so.” They quieted as applause started. Emily and Richard were walking out onto the stage. Suzanne saw Sandra smiling as she silently sent support and love out to her two lovers.
Sonata for Horn in F and Piano (1939) ……… Paul Hindemith (1895 – 1963) I. Massig bewegt
Joel knew he would enjoy the Hindemith, as Emily and Richard confidently started the first movement. He knew from years of working with Emily in orchestras that she would give a good rendition of the cerebral piece. Besides, as a horn player, how could he not enjoy it…? She’s always been into the details of the music, and this piece needs that. It’s such a contrast from what Sandra sang. Almost jarring… And yet, so Emily. He wondered how the audience was liking the piece. He looked around; everyone was focused on the stage. Well, that’s good. She’s keeping them in it. Joel looked back at Emily, watching her facial expressions as she shaped the phrases. She’s still a cutie… It was almost three years ago that we got together. She was so young, then… So was I, even though I was through my first year at Wexford. Those were crazy summers… She’s changed, especially this year. She’s still irreverent, but she’s also found something new. There’s a… delicateness in there, that I never saw before. Maybe it’s due to this Richard guy. Or her roommate… He smiled, reminding himself that the rumors about her trio were probably true. Most things you hear around here are, he thought, grinning. They stayed together, even after what happened between us at my place. I wonder if Richard and Sandra know what really happened… Joel cringed slightly at the memory. Even though the police had never bothered him again, it was still a rough situation to deal with. And I then had to go be a dick to Emily about it. Richard’s been cool ever since we talked, though. So has Emily. Much better than the cold shoulder I got at the end of last semester… The opening theme returned, played faster now. Joel leaned in, waiting expectantly for the powerful cadence. Emily delivered, sounding the final notes with a clear tone that filled the hall. Nice job, Emily.
II. Ruhig bewegt
Kyle realized he was leaning forward in his chair. This is strange music, he conceded, as Richard started playing the second part of the piece. Nothing like what I listen to. But it’s still cool to see Emily play… She’s so into it. I can’t imagine concentrating that hard for so long. He sat back some, calmed by the slower pace of this movement. At times Richard’s playing reminded him of running water. Emily’s horn, like the breeze… As the movement progressed and became more evocative, Kyle threw his thoughts back to the day Billy had died. He glanced at the empty seat next to him. He would have been sitting here with me. Kyle’s throat momentarily grew tight, as grief suddenly flooded through him. But he allowed it to pass on without letting it consume him. In those dark hours, it had been surprisingly comforting to have Emily there. I hardly know her, really. But, it was like she knew me. She knew what I was feeling. I wonder who she lost, when she was younger. It’s strange how she ended up being there, that day. It had to be more than just a coincidence… No, that’s all it was. She’s got her man, there, on stage with her. Emily and Richard pressed into a more dramatic section, exchanging a glance for a cue. Richard smiled as they played together. You’re an idiot, Kyle, thinking you could come tonight and impress her with your stupid surprise. Kyle thought the movement was ending, but he couldn’t really tell with this music. Despite the general uneasiness he felt at the strange surroundings, he also felt hope and light when he looked at Emily. The movement did end. She’s beautiful…
III. Lebhaft
Clark watched his daughter as she began the final movement of the Sonata. Her friend is a formidable pianist, he thought. It will be interesting to hear him play the Etudes. We’ll have to move to the other side of the hall at the intermission, to watch his hands. As the movement reached the pensive second section, Clark listened attentively. When he used to play the Sonata, long ago, he always enjoyed this section the most. There was a beauty to the horn lines that supported all that had come before, but also moved the piece in a new direction. She really has grown into a strong musician… Clark felt a pang of remorse, wondering why he was noticing only now. Years lost… and now she’s grown. I had very little part in shaping her musically. Even though he felt a resonance in her playing, knowing they had similar working styles, he also heard an approach to the music which was different than his. She plays smoother than I did, despite using the same instrument. Perhaps tonight I can start to mend the rift between us. He glanced at Audrey, sitting by his side and smiling as she watched Emily. She too watched her grow up. I hope she’s right about tonight. Even though I should have reached out to Emily years ago, perhaps it is not too late. What would it be like to talk of music with her now? When I last was close with Emily, the only music we could talk about were children’s songs. Look at her… A woman, now. Interpreting some difficult music, and very well. That was wonderful phrasing… Clark felt some long lost feelings welling up, as he began to realize that he could hear some of Emily’s mother’s playing in the performance. She also had smooth phrasing. Elizabeth played for her constantly. Emily still remembers her… Maybe she still remembers what I told her back then… Even though the Hindemith was not an overtly emotional piece, he still found himself feeling so. He squeezed Audrey’s hand as the piece came to a strong conclusion, and then was the first to applaud. Emily stood to bow, after a moment, and looked at him. She even smiled a little. Please, Emily, come back… I’m sorry, and I do love you…
INTERMISSION
Emily and Richard walked off the stage, and were greeted by Sandra and Suzanne. “Awesome, Emily! That was such a cool piece!” Suzanne said. They all exchanged hugs, and then Richard let out a sigh of relief. “Whew. It went really well, I thought,” he said to Emily. “It was great,” Emily agreed. “We played most of it the best we ever have.” “I could see your dad the whole time, since he was right past you in my line of sight.” Emily laughed. “Sorry. I could have moved forward a little.” “No,” Richard said. “He smiled a bunch of times, so I think he liked it.” Emily shrugged. “I was too nervous to look at him until it was over.” “Are you glad he came?” Sandra asked. Emily nodded, smiling a little. “I am. It made me more nervous than I thought, though.” “You did great,” Sandra said. “Thanks.” “Well, I’m going to go sing in the rehearsal room for a bit,” Sandra said. “I will come back to watch you, Richard. Don’t worry!” Richard nodded. “I’m going to do the same,” Emily said. “I need to start the Serenade alone, so I’ll try to keep warm for the next ten minutes. We’ll be back.” The girls each kissed him once, and then slipped off. Richard turned to Suzanne. “Do you need some time alone?” she asked. “Nah. If I’m not ready now…” She laughed. “True.” They sat in the nearby chairs. “You play really well with them. I can’t wait to hear your Serenade,” Suzanne said. “I hope we can do it. It’s a hard piece to play, partly because the arrangement is awkward at times.” “It has to be hard to imitate a string orchestra, with a piano.” “Oh, it is. Nelson has really helped a lot. I still need to think of a lot of things, though.” “Well, if the first half is any indication, you have a knack for accompanying.” Richard laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that. But it has been fun working with them.” “The three of you are lucky, you know.” Richard nodded. “And very intriguing,” she added. Richard turned to her, and laughed quietly. “Intriguing…” “You’d have to be, to relate like you do. Part of me wishes I’d met you all earlier this year.” Richard considered the idea. “But you met Sandra when you did, and it turned her around.” Suzanne nodded gravely. “She is amazing.” “No doubt.” Suzanne was quiet for a moment before speaking. “I…” “What?” “She’s never said anything, and neither have you when we got together to rehearse…” “About?” Suzanne held out her hands, and chuckled. “Sorry, you should be focusing.” “In a minute I will. What were you saying?” Suzanne took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say it.” Richard looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “You’re feeling confused, about us three, and you…?” “Yes. And no.” “Just follow your heart.” “But how? It tells me different things at the same time.” Richard nodded. “It always seems to. Only one feeling is true. The others are not.” Suzanne looked at him, considering. “Five minutes,” the stage manager called out as he wandered past. “At some point, you’ll know,” Richard said quietly, smiling at her. “Okay, time to get back to the music.” Suzanne seemed to shake off her thoughts. She nodded at Richard. “All right. I’m going to go get a seat in the hall for the second half. Good luck, Richard. I’ll see you after.” “Thanks, Suzanne,” he said. “Thanks for playing with us. You added a lot to the evening.” She gave him a warm hug and then kissed his cheek gently. After grabbing her violin case, she quickly slipped out the door. Richard stared at the rectangle of light from the green room door as it was slowly swallowed up by the darkness. Intriguing… As the last sliver of light disappeared, he let go of those thoughts. He paced around, imagining the first Etude. I’m more nervous than I thought, too… Where are the girls? A few minutes before it was time, Irina materialized out of the darkness. “Hello, Riccardo,” she said. “Oh hi, Mrs. T.” “Very nice. A very good first half.” “Thanks.” “How do you feel?” she asked. “Good. Not tired at all.” “Remember, take your time between the Etudes. Make sure you clear one from your head before you start the next one.” Richard nodded. “I will watch from here, okay?” “Sure.” The buzz of conversation from the audience quieted as the stage manager worked the light box to dim the hall and brighten the stage. Sandra and Emily returned just then, and Richard found himself suddenly feeling some relief. Irina smiled at the girls and clapped her hands quietly as they neared. The girls smiled back at her. “Hello, Mrs. T.” “Beautiful, both of you.” “Thanks.” “Whenever you are ready,” the stage manager said to Richard, after a moment. “Might as well get it over with,” he said. “No point waiting.” Sandra hugged him first. She whispered in his ear. “I love you, Richard. Go show them what you can do.” Emily hugged him next. “I’d kiss you, but… Go kick some butt. I love you…” Even though he knew Irina was watching, Richard kissed her anyway, eliciting a wide-eyed grin. “See you in a bit,” he said. His nerves were gone as he walked out on stage.
Six Etudes ……… Frederic Chopin (1810 – 1849) Opus 25, No. 1 in A flat
Dave started the tapes as the lights in the hall dimmed. A few moments later, applause greeted Richard as he walked out. At least he’s smiling, Dave thought with a grin. We’ll see how he’s holding up after these next six pieces… Dave marked the index point on the DAT machines as Richard began to play the first Etude. Satisfied with the levels he had set for the piano, he scooted his chair over to the window that looked out over the hall. “The boy is good,” Jarrett said quietly, after listening for thirty seconds. “Yeah. Very clean…” “You can hear Irina’s influence in there. The phrasing and the inner voices sound like her.” “Mm hmm.” Richard built up the piece through the section of more intense harmonic movement, but not too much. “He’s keeping it elegant,” Jarrett said. “Probably saving himself for the ones that are coming.” Jarrett laughed. “True.” The theme returned, and Richard kept the music calm. “It’s too bad he’s such a good pianist,” Dave said, grinning. They watched as Richard delicately ran through the closing arpeggios and final trill. “Nice,” Jarrett whispered, as the Etude ended. Then he turned to him with a frown. “Why is it too bad?” “Otherwise I’d be grooming him to be my next producer.” Jarrett shook his head at the joke. “I’m not losing my hearing yet, Dave.” “No, I suppose not.” “He does have a good ear for the music, though. He did well on the edits.” “You got lazy, I heard!” Dave said, as he moved to the tape machines and readied his finger on the button to index the next piece. “Hardly…” Jarrett said. “But he chose the takes well when I hadn’t indicated.” “Agreed.” Richard jumped into the second Etude. “Saving himself indeed,” Jarrett said. “All right, Dave… Quit talking my ear off and let me listen!” Dave just grinned and sat again.
Opus 25, No. 10 in B minor
Arlene smiled as Richard thundered through the octaves of this Etude. If played correctly, it was a real challenge. And he’s doing it properly… It’s the kind of piece I’ll probably never be able to play. Not with these small hands. The middle section will show if he’s learned anything with Mrs. Tertychnaya… With an abrupt four note exclamation, the dramatic first section ended. As if a curtain had been blown away in a gust, the music was suddenly pastoral. Wow… Not like the Richard I remember. He would have plowed through this. This is delicate… He really likes to emphasize the inner melodies. It’s like a duet… or a trio… I wonder if he thinks of Emily and Sandra when he plays… He still closes his eyes sometimes… Still moves his knee that way… Some things haven’t changed. The music became more and more tender. I know he probably doesn’t think of me in that way now, but he used to… Or maybe he still does a little… Why else would he have done everything he’s done? I was the one who pushed him away, and he was the one who brought me back… And the girls did say he liked talking with me… Arlene remembered their romantic evenings spent in the city a year ago. That bistro… I’ll never forget those nights, when music was so fun… Talking for hours about a recording, or the pieces we were working on. Everything was so… available for the taking. Her thoughts turned momentarily dark as she pictured her Juilliard teacher, before smashing the image away. How different things are now. He plays so well. He’s going to have it all, I know. His voice is coming out. He just needed to have a lover… Or two… It could have been me, but I ruined it… And yet, because of him I have William… When I come to Wexford, having Richard around will be the best part, even if we never get together again. And yet, with Sandra and Emily, anything seems possible… The music began to turn unsettled and dramatic again, but it didn’t change her mood. Arlene still felt the hope and warmth of a renewed friendship, and she almost clapped as Richard executed the ending of the Etude with perfect control and excitement. Almost… but she didn’t.
Opus 25, No. 7 in C sharp minor
Well done, Richard. It was the first thought that entered William’s mind. Until the accompaniment started, his mind had been blank, save for the plaintive melody Richard had slowly fingered. Not Irina, but then again, no one has her left hand… Or her feeling, for that matter… William listened intently. But he’s learning. He’s still a little deliberate on the melody. Not quite a direct look into his soul, yet. But there are glimpses, moments… The music turned more urgent as his left hand played the series of runs that led into the first climactic moment. Ah, now some more emotion. Naturally, this technical part would suit him perfectly. He rubbed his pinky on Arlene’s hand in anticipation. He noticed her smile at him. He didn’t turn, but raised his eyebrows in pleasure at the peak moment. As the music turned pensive again, William did look at Arlene. They are such different players. There will never be a time one would confuse them, no matter who they study with. I hope Arlene finds her place here at Wexford. Richard always benefited from talking to another pianist… Especially Arlene, with such a different approach… She could shape a new facet of his playing, just by being here next year. Oh, he’s human… A rare mistake. At last something to tease him about! Because so far, he’s really done well… The Etude wound down to a quiet close. He still needs more emotional stamina for this Etude… But still, an admirable job. Well done, Richard.
Opus 25, No. 8 in D flat
Irina could imagine Richard’s fingers on the keys like they were her own, even though from the side of the stage, his hands were mostly blocked by his back. The notes are smeared together. He’s holding the pedal a little too much. We will work on that at the next lesson, she thought, adding to her mental list. Tomorrow… No, perhaps not tomorrow… she corrected, remembering the party. This piano does not help. It has excellent tone for melody, but not enough attack for clarity on an Etude like this one. It is a very short piece, however. The decrescendo was very good, she noted, also adding that to her list. The Etude was soon over. Irina already had the next Etude in her head, before the piano stopped ringing.
Opus 25, No.5 in E minor
Viktoriya had only a passing recognition of the set of Etudes, unable to name them by opus and number. Still, as Irina’s daughter, she had heard them enough to recognize them musically. As Richard started the fifth one, she remembered disliking it in the past. The melody was grotesquely adorned with dissonant notes, and the whole thing left her feeling like someone was cackling at her. Mother probably made him play this one to work on something or other. Sure wasn’t for the musicality… Well, at last the final Etude will be good, if I remember it right. Richard played into the unresolved cadence, and suddenly something vaguely familiar about the pause struck Viktoriya. Wait… Oh…! I guess I do like this one… Like harsh day turning into sweet night, the music became romantic. Richard’s right hand played the sublime arpeggiated accompaniment while his left played a beautiful melody. She found herself suddenly in her mother’s garden, lying under a blanket with Richard as they looked up at the stars. That was a special night… This music was how it felt… I wonder if he’s thinking of me now, as he plays. Likely not… He never called me since. And he has someone. It was just a singularity. But tonight… No, he will be busy, with family and friends. There will be no chance to spend time with him alone, to talk, or look at the stars… The right hand figures grew even more filigreed as the emotional melody continued. I wonder if he felt the spark between us. It’s like we’ve been together before. I hardly know him… But I do know him… The return of the dissonant first theme was lost on Viktoriya, as her mind drifted into a place where Richard was playing her, and not the piano.
Opus 25, No. 12 in C minor
It can’t be ending so soon… Vittorio gripped the armrests of his seat. The last Etude. The best Etude… Richard began the stormy piece without any hesitation. Dio mio… The wild music swept through Vittorio, immediately flooding him with even more emotion. He’d heard the Etudes hundreds, if not thousands of times. But never like this. Not with my son playing… He could have been playing anything, and Vittorio would have been proud. Anything, from a classic Beethoven sonata to a dissonant atonal modern piece, would have pulled on Vittorio’s heart. But this last Etude magnified everything that Vittorio had given to arrive at this moment: years of working more than a man should at physical labor, in order to take his son to see concerts, and pay for weekly piano lessons. Even though Richard had shown talent at an early age, people had cautioned Vittorio about putting too much hope in a future as a musician. But I always knew… Tonight he has repaid me, and he will continue to grow. He no longer needs me. I will be his biggest fan, but beyond that I can no longer help him, now… Listen… How the melody sings, even while he plays the arpeggios… Richard seemed to be consumed by the music as he approached the ending. Vittorio was the first to clap. The applause he’d been storing during all six Etudes burst out of him. “Bravo!” he cried. The rest of the hall followed his lead, even as Richard remained still, his hands still holding the final chord. At last he rose, looked at Vittorio for a moment, and then took his bow. Vittorio’s face still streamed tears long after Richard left the stage.
Serenade (1943) ……… Benjamin Britten (1913 – 1976)
Richard gazed at Emily as she began the solo horn call which constituted the Prologue of the Serenade. He still found it amazing she played it entirely without depressing the valves. It makes the piano look easy… The last piece… After everything, here we are… No sooner had the last quiet horn note sounded when Richard began the Pastoral. The trio now stopped all conscious thought of things external to the music, and threw themselves into the performance. The months of hard work showed in their close ensemble, but what came through to the audience most was the closeness that these three musicians felt for each other. Their musical connection ran deep, supported by emotions and memories that had been hard won. Some who watched already knew the truth; some suspected only a friendly relationship; and still others figured out that these three shared much more than music. But for everyone, it became a transcendent performance. No one failed to feel the darkness of the Elegy, or the lightness of the Hymn. The Sonnet moved everyone, especially those who knew of Sandra’s recent loss. “Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, And seal the hushèd Casket of my Soul.” Emily had left the stage before the Sonnet, and as the final chord of that emotional adagio faded into the hall, her horn came from a great distance to play the Epilogue, consisting of exactly the same notes as the Prologue. But how different it sounds, now, at the end… Even though it is the same, after everything that happened in between, it’s different… The hall remained still for a pregnant moment as the last horn note diminished to nothingness. Richard had found the response to be different for each of their three individual efforts, earlier in the evening. The applause for Sandra’s singing had been emotional. All had been swept up by the romantic sounds of the lieder she had sung. Emily’s applause had been more respectful, perhaps led by the musicians in the audience who knew the difficulty of playing her Sonata well. Richard’s last Etude had been met by energized clapping and rousing cheers. The technical and musical aspects of the Chopin had excited everyone. When the applause came for the Serenade, it started quietly. Perhaps some were unsure if the piece had ended. Others wondered if they should wait for Emily to return to the stage. Richard held his hand out as she appeared from offstage with her horn. Smiling broadly, he took Sandra’s and Emily’s hands in his, and kissed them on the fingers. The three of them took some time to look at each other, silently acknowledging how much they had enjoyed performing together. At last the trio stepped forward, and the audience’s acknowledgement grew to its fullest. The three of them basked in the moment, smiling as they held hands and bowed twice. Emotional, excited, appreciative… It’s all wrapped into one for us… Emily pulled on Richard, and they walked off the stage, grinning ever larger. A second call was warranted as the applause continued. They walked out, giddy, and bowed once more. Then it was over. The applause faded as they reached the side of the stage the second time. The girls threw themselves around Richard as they were just out of sight from the audience, behind the side curtain. “We did it!” They hugged and kissed and even cried, suddenly feeling the tension and concentration of hours and months, begin to give way to the vibrant satisfaction that the end of a performance brings. Richard pulled back, breathing deeply as he looked at his friends. Such life in their eyes… “You two were amazing tonight,” he said. “We done good,” Emily agreed. “I think we pulled off the Serenade, after all.” Sandra nodded. “That’s the best I’ve done it, for sure.” Richard nodded. “The Sonnet was incredible, Sandra. It was like from another world, and then Emily came in with the offstage call… Mm… I got shivers…” They laughed and hugged again. “I suppose there’ll be people wanting to greet us,” Emily said, turning to the door that led to the green room. “It could be a long night,” Richard said. “There were a bunch more people here than I thought.” Sandra looked at them. “In a way, I just want to be with you two right now.” Emily smiled. “I know. But we have some things to do before that happens.” They at last let go of each other as the stage manager pulled the switch to the stage lights with a reverberant click. Loud talking from the departing audience still filtered through the curtains. In the dimness of the backstage lighting, the trio shared one long kiss together: their encore for each other. As they walked slowly to the door to the green room, Richard shivered. I never want to let this feeling go…
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