The Goldberg Variations - Live Recording made last January

This is a live recording made (without my knowing it...), from a concert given last January, at the"Parnassos" Concert Hall. Around 10 months later, the person who had made the recording gave me the DVD! The sound quality is poor, and the video camera was placed quite far away from the piano but still, I think the result is ok. I was playing in a (then) brand-new Steinway Concert Grand - I think it was possibly the second time this piano was played. It's a magnificent instrument, absolutely worthy of its reputation, and I remember being overjoyed at the occasion. Musically speaking, the result is mediocre (as usual) but nonetheless, it's an sincere effort to play a work of gigantic dimensions, so at the end of the day I am quite satisfied... In any case, here is the recording (divided in 5 parts) and all comments are welcome!...

Here is Part I



Part II



Part III



Part IV



Part V

Today's music on BBC Radio 3

Almost every morning, one of the first things I do when I wake up is to put on BBC Radio 3. It's good for the children - for us too- to start our day with music. Though I must say that quite often the music played is not the best thing one would like to listen to; I cannot, for instance, bring myself to listen to opera arias or Wagner at 7 in the morning - it just seems insane, doesn't it?

It seems to me that the best music one can start one's day with is baroque possibly because there is a purity in the sound that helps one dissolve the dim and shadowy world of dreams and darkness and make a fresh start into the world of light and reality.
But today, I heard this beautiful Adagio from Spartacus, composed by Aram Khachaturian and, while listening, my memory went immediately to the latter's Piano Concerto - one of the very first piano concertos to penetrate my ears and heart.

It is a unique concerto, in the sense that it's a world on its own, it does not belong (melodically speaking) to any particular style or genre. The Second Movement (Andante con anima) is really sublime. The melody played (in unison) by the piano is heart-breaking, so beyond words and so full of ineffable, passionate feelings - it's really pointless to go on.
Here is a good performance - with Peter Katin and the LSO.



This was one of my favorite pieces of music when I was a radio producer, ages ago, I used to put it on often, and everyone loved it.

***

I had a concert last Monday - with Spyros Souladakis - we played Hadjidakis and some of my own transcriptions of Spanoudakis's music. Also, Gershwin's Rsapsody in Blue. Went ok I think, around 70 people came. This coming Sunday, another small concert, this time with 2 flutes (Telemann, Vivaldi, Bach). We are not well prepared I think, but it seems that it will be a rather informal venue so I am trying not to get too stressed about the whole thing.

Frederic Chiu recordings of Prokofiev Piano Music

Frederic Chiu is, I think, the only pianist who has recorded the complete piano works of Sergei Prokofiev (Harmonia Mundi). I really cannot imagine what stamina, strenght and courage is required to carry out this huge project - and time of course. But the result is definitely succesful. I did not manage to hear all the works, but I did listen to the 2nd and 4th Sonatas, as well as Op.12 and 32. There is a distinct "Prokofievan" quality in Chiu's sound; he has captivated the complexity of Prokofiev's musical language very well: his sarcastic, often harsh and mocking tone, his clarity, tenderness, strength, and percussive sound.

Listening to this music, one realizes what an extraordinary composer Prokofiev was... He has inspired me probably more than any other composer I've ever "met". I seem to "understand" his music - and I am not sure I can explain that... Let me just say that there is music I simply cannot grasp: Scriabin, for instance, or Bartok. But with Prokofiev, everything makes sense to me..

Last night, I listened to his Op.12 again - Ten Pieces for piano. The Allemande I found amazingly bold, with a subtle dancing melodic "statement" that cannot be easily discerned but which, for that very reason, is quite unique. I actually decided to play that piece. The final Scherzo is unparalleled... (I've already played his "atmospheric" Legend, around 9 years ago).
Chiu's performance of these pieces is the best I' ve ever heard, I think. In particular, his Scherzo is really breathtaking!

Playing music in the background...

This was the first time, I think, that I played "officially" in the background. I was asked to play for a reception, while the guests were having their drinks. It was awkward in the beginning, to say the least! Being a concert-pianist, I wasn't used to playing withe no one to paying any attention! I also felt a bit lonely at times, having the impression that no link whatsoever was created between me and my audience. Apparently this was not true, as almost everyone in the end came to thank me - so I suppose they were listening!! Of course, I did not/would not play classical music; I played light music, Greek songs, movie themes, etc.

Today was the first cold Autumn day. I am so fond of this period of the year... There is a sweet melancholy in the air, there is a spirit of expectation for the coming year (despite the crisis!), and there is a silent anticipation of Christmas...

I think Tchaikovsky succeeded best in capturing this spirit of the Fall, in his "Months". These are 12 wonderful pieces, each one dedicated to a month of the year. Here is "October: Autumn Song", played by Alexei Sultanov, a Russian pianist who died after having suffered a stroke, at my age - 35.




Such a moving mixture of sweetness and sadness. A voice of desolation.

Prokofiev and various

Sergei Prokofiev is in my view one of the most interesting cases in the history of music. There is something fresh and original in his music, something truly unconventional; I was listening to his opus 32 (Four Pieces for Piano) and was amazed at the boldness and inventiveness of his musical writing. There is humor and sarcasm blended together with sentitiveness and tenderness.

I haven't written here for ages. The academic year began (September 24) with a nice solo recital at "Parnassos" concert hall which went well, except my Rachmaninoff (Moment Musical in E minor) which, for some reaons, was unsteady, with many wrong notes and a lack of character. It is the piece that I actually recorded in August, and I thought that this would be my best piece - yet the opposite happened! I really fail to understand sometimes what determines the "success" of a piece; one practices something for ages and ages and still the result is not satisfying.

I now plan for November another shared recital with my friend Spyros Souladakis, here at Holargos, where I live; this will be something different -Greek composers mostly, together with five of my transcriptions on Spanoudakis' music - the first time we'll play these in public.

A sweet Autumn day today, full of light and freshness.

Notes on a recording

A couple of weeks ago I made a recording of Rachmaninoff's Moment Musical in E Minor. I had played the piece a couple of times in the past and I always wanted to have a recorded version of it. It' s a hard piece, one that requires concentration and stamina to keep going till the end - the final explosion. This is typical early Rachmaninoff - the Moments Musicaux are, in my view, one of the best products of his youth. The E minor one is the best known piece of the set, and understandably so: apart from the technical bravura, one can discern a fine melodic line which never falls victim to the repetetitive structure of the piece. It is a desperately passionate melody, with a short lyric interlude around the middle, which expands till the last fff. I think the danger of this music is to play too loud too early; one must keep the sound well under control, otherwise the catastrophe is unavoidable!
As for the recording procedure. Of course, due to the video camera, no edit could be done - I had to play non-stop from the beggining to the end. I managed to perform the piece 4-5 times and it was pretty exhausting. We kept three takes and at a later stage, I decided which one was to be uploaded. The studio is one of the best in Athens and the Yamaha is well beyond average.

It was good fun! And the result is, I think, more or less, decent, although there are many annoying details... A few technical mistakes, and a general sense of sluggishness; is it not a bit boring too? But anyway, there we are, here it is and all comments are welcome!

Today's listening: Lugansky playing Brahms

Today’s listening: Nikolai Lugansky, a live recital given in August 2002. Brahms, Klavierstucke op. 118. Wonderful performance as ever, full of life, and within the spirit of the composer. Did not particularly warm to his rendering of the final intermezzo though – I found that there was something missing of the profound sadness and depth which penetrates this intensely personal moment of late Brahms.

I remember playing this particular Intermezzo (op.118 no 6) for my diploma exams, back in 1997. It was such a difficult thing to bring out the feeling of loneliness and desolation that is expressed in the melodic line. I played it then (cannot remember how it went) and never attempted to tackle it again. I think it’s one of these pieces that persuade me that the piano is undoubtedly the most difficult instrument of all. To bring out correctly the melody of op.118/6 from a massive ‘piece of furniture’ (I mean the piano) that faces you, seems to me enough to prove the statement.

on depression...

Well, it can be depressing…

Argerich’s performance of Schumann’s Kinderszenen (the piece I am working on currently) is so impossibly perfect, so unapproachably beautiful that one becomes depressed thinking of one’s own imperfectness, one’s hopeless distance from such an immaculate sound. It’s an odd feeling, similar to the one felt when reading the life of saints.

And this brings to my mind a novel I read ages ago: the title was “The Loser”, and it was written by the Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard. It’s the story of a pianist who, after hearing Glenn Gould playing, gave up the piano, and some years later, still crushed by the comparison between his playing and the great pianist’s, died while listening to Gould’s Goldberg Variations. It is not the happiest story (!), (and the narrative is a bit complicated), yet one can understand the principal idea – how profoundly wrong this feeling of depression-deriving-from-comparison can be.
…And yet, it’s only too natural to feel like that when persons from one’s own professional field do so much better than oneself! I think the challenge here is to try to transform this negative feeling into something positive; how can one do that? Well, I think one could begin by focusing on his/her own uniqueness. Every person is unique – and so is every smile, every gaze, every soul. The realization of our otherness is crucial; for it can enable us to see this very element in the other person too; so, yes, for instance, I will never be able to play Kinderszenen as well as Martha – no matter if I practice for hours and hours on end. But how sweet it is to rejoice at this great gift given to her by God, how sweet it is to rejoice for the gifts that are bestowed on my life – my talents, my own playing, my life, my family.
The aim, as I understand and feel it, is to be able to reach a point of heartful thankfulness to God for everything that occurs, for everyone that one may come across in life.

I write this in our summerhouse, in a village near Corinth, Greece. What ideal surroundings for such a beautiful piece of music - and a performance to match…

Dreaming Kinderszenen...

In a week's time, I am playing a short recital at an Embassy, here in Athens. I must say that it's pretty hard to concentrate and am struggling to have a decent practice session. I feel generally very tired and not particulary motivated. It's also very hot these days...

Anyway, I am going to play (for the fist time) a piano transcription of Libertango and am really looking forward ro that.

A strange thing happened the other day. I had this dream where I very clearly heard myself playing Schumann's Kinderszenen; I woke up in the middle of the night with the music still vibrating in my head. And I thought, why not learn the score, for my children? They would love it and, after all, it's written for them! So I have also (in a painfully slow way...) been practicing this wonderful set of little pieces.

For Schumann, my feelings are ambivalent; I adore his Piano Concerto (have played it many times); I really like Kreisleriana and Kinderszenen but, that's about it... I cannot listen to his "Carnaval" and I find "Fantasia" unbearably boring... And I recently heard a live recording of his Waldzenen by Volodos, and still was unable to follow what was going on. His Fantasiestucke (op. 12), on the contrary, I find interesting.

I must confess that another reason why I've decided to learn this piece is the fact that is not technically demanding... Which is of some importance at this stage of my life, with practically no time to practice. Having said that, however, I have a feeling that the work is very difficult in its own way; for it has some really masterly composed moments: here, simplicity meets beauty in a world of saintly innoncence. It's no wonder that my son, from the very first notes, came to the piano and asked me what is was... Yet it seems to me that in order to perform this music (well that is...) one must possess - to a certain degree at least - the quality of innocence, which, in my case, was lost a long time ago.

Anderson & Roe Piano Duo: An original approach to classical music.

I recently discovered this amazingly talented piano duo on youtube. What I like most about Anderson and Roe is their unconventional approach to classical music, which, however, does not in any way mean a degradation of the musical quality - after all, they both studied at Julliard, they obviously are accomplished professionals. This is, I think, the crucial thing about this duo: they play in an original, sometimes funny way, but they do not betray, for that reason, their proffesionalism - the attention to the detail.

Watching them it's a consoling experience, since classical music has been wrongly identified with pompousness, stiffness and "seriousness". I think this might be the challenge for the new generation: to bring classical music into a modern, original and imaginative "shape" which so much is missing from the concert halls.

Listen, for instance, their "new account of the Bluw Danube Waltz". A joyful, sparkling transcription, played with such youthful enthusiasm...

...Or, listen and watch their incredibly erotic and passionate (as well as funny) performance of Piazzola's "libertango".

Imagination, inventiveness, professionalism and boldness - these are the elements that guarantee a succesful career for Greg and Elizabeth.

The Concert Pianist

Kissin managed to suprise me once more!
I was listening to his recording of Brahms' Second Hungarian Dance (in RCA). It's such a lively and dynamic account of this beautiful dance! One can easily discern Kissin's rare musical qualities: the perfect control of his sound, a huge tonal palette and an incredible dynamism - all these elements make for an altogether exceptional case of pianist. Some of his recordings remain unsurpassable for me - take, for instance, his extraordinary performance of Liszt's "Chasse-Neige" transcedental study.

I sometimes wonder - and I want to put this down on my diary as sincerely as I can: what sort of happiness can really be found in living the life of a concert pianist? Kissin travels all the time around the globe giving concerts (I presume) every other day. I honestly wonder, how can happiness and inner peace be reconciled with a life of constant traveling, staying all the time in gloomy hotel rooms, loneliness, practicing all the time, playing for thousand of unknown people who are (in their vast majority) ready to bury the pianist at his first mistake or an unsuccessful rendering of a work, with being always on perfect and immaculate form...

I wish I had Kissin to explain to me what are the pleasures and consolations of such a life... I suppose that he might have replied that it is in music that he finds the source of every joy; yet again, I fail to understand how music - much as I adore it- can represent such an exclusively important factor in life, how it can, per se, make life meaningful.

What's wrong with Rach 4?...

I was walking to work this morning, under a merciless Greek sun, and suddenly the haunting melody of the first movement of Rachmaninoff's Fourth Piano Concerto came into my mind. And I began wondering why this work is not as popular as its precedents. I know that Rachmaninoff tried several revisions of the work but with no apparent success.

So, what's wrong with Rach 4?

Let me first say that, in my view, it is an interesting work, with some really fine moments. It has at least two absolutely beautiful, long melodic lines, so typical of R. The orchestral part is masterly composed, and so is, of course, the solo part.
An aspect which works against this concerto is the fact that one cannot av0id the comparison with the previous three ... And one can easily see that, while the first three concertos are definately masterpieces, the fourth does not quite deserve the same credit!

As I was walking this morning, I brought to mind the first movement, and I think one would agree that it is the finest of the three - a wonderful opening theme, briliantly exposed and developed, a very lyrical and also melancholic middle theme and an unpredictable ending. I think it was Nikolai Lugansky who said that in this movement we meet R in his darkest and saddest moments. He is right-there is a dark quality in the work, but the feeling that personally overwhelms me is that of a deep nostalgia and unfulfilled longing - maybe for his homeland (the concerto was composed in the US), for his youth... I don't know...


The problems begin with the second movement... Yes, the theme is nice and the dialogue between the piano and the orchestra interesting, but the endless repetition of the same idea makes it rather tiresome and possibly boring. And the third movement (possibly the least inspired of all), although it begins brilliantly, seems to lack shape and continuity, does not have a guiding musical principle or idea, it doesn't convey a spontaneous message.

The Rachmaninoff Concertos... I've spent all my life listening them, playing (some of) them, studying them... They constitute a vital part of my musical self... And I feel that I carry them with me, in my heart and in my mind.

...Since I mentioned Lugansky, here is the first movement of the Concerto performed by him. (His recordings of the Rachmaninoff Piano Concertos are among the finest I've ever come across)...

Yesterday's Concert

I think it went rather well in the end. It was of course a small venue, the audience made up mostly of friends but I must confess that I 'd rather play for a handful of persons I love than perform in front of hundreds of unknown faces. Rhapsody in blue was a big success, of course - everyone loved it.

Yet Spyros told me half-jokingly that he will never play with me again! He was referring to the fact that I had a tendency to rush a bit in terms of tempo, which is a very unsettling experience if you are not on your own. He is right actually - esp the Shubert Fantasia was a bit unstable tempo-wise, and I am the one to be blamed for that.

My Rachmaninoff was, I think, more or less ok, though there were some wrong notes, as always. It could have been better... Same with Bach, although I felt it went better than the Rachmaninoff.

All in all, it was a nice occasion - a warm and friendly atmosphere. My two young sons came to the concert - their "first", I think! They seemed happy afterwards. I was thinking, God knows, some time I may be the one to go to their concert!...

Before the concert...

I find myself again in an all-too-familiar “pre-concert mood”…

I am playing, together with a good friend of mine, next Wednesday, at a Conservatoire down in the centre of Athens. Actually, this is the conservatoire where I studied, ages ago.

This is the first time that I have done a joint recital: the program consists of a combination of solo pieces and works for four hands. My solo contribution will be Bach’s “Concerto After Marcello”, a wonderful – though not so well-known transcription of a concerto for oboe written by Alessandro Marcello-, and then two Rachmaninoff pieces. Spyros (a wonderful pianist) will play Chopin and Debussy.

We will in the end play a most interesting version of Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”, for four hands, written by Henry Levine. I had initially my doubts about this one, but when I saw and studied the score (by the way it has never been performed in Greece before, I gather), I’ve realised that it “works” well for the piano, and I am really looking forward to it…

Now, what’s that “pre-concert mood”?...

It’s something strange really, it’s like a general negativity towards anything related to music, piano and the like. It is as if an aversion to what I am doing overcomes me one week before any concert, and I cannot find a way to escape this feeling. It has, of course, psychological grounds, related possibly to the stress that one experiences before any important event. Still, it’s quite annoying! I am unable to enjoy my concerts while performing – only afterwards: then, immediately, the perspective shifts again, everything goes back to normal. But again, the challenge to “live the present moment” seems to have been lost. How sad.

Yet, on another level, this strange mood has a positive effect on me. For instance, I often feel forced to sort of stop and think about myself – who am I, where am I going, why am I doing this etc... I don’t expect rational answers to all these endless questions but somehow I feel that the fact alone that I ask them (seriously, not superfluously that is) helps cultivate a growing sense of self-awareness, which is crucial. If this is true, then maybe all concerts also have “consequences” which are unrelated to music - they have served as signposts in an internal procedure towards maturity.

We have another 5 days until the concert, so I may come back on the subject…

Glenn Gould's Bach

I’ve decided tο sometimes write in English from now on… I might in this way be able to communicate with a much larger community sharing the same interests and passions. English-speaking people who may read these lines are kindly asked not be too harsh on my English, I beg you!

Yesterday evening, as I was listening to Glenn Gould performing a Contrapunctus from the “Art of Fugue”, a remark by an excellent Greek pianist, Danae Kara, came to my mind. She once told me that there is one thing you cannot accuse Gould of: that his Bach is “out-of-style”. This is so true. For whatever his eccentricities, his sometimes peculiar or unorthodox readings etc etc, his Bach remains "Bach" in the purest sense of the word. Glenn’s Bach is clear of any romantic indulgences and is pervaded by a clarity of tone, a musical “purity”, if I may say so, which is there all the time – in every single note that Gould recorded from 1955 onwards.

Yet, much as “Bachian” his Bach may be, Gould manages to combine faithfulness to this style with his own personal and unique tone. And this is where, I think, his genius lies – in the harmonic co-existence of uniqueness and faithfulness-in-style. (I wish, though, I could say the same for his Mozart!!...)

I played once in a concert a Contrapunctus from the "Art" (the 3rd one), it’s a strange work indeed! It seems to me (correct me if I am mistaken) that the “late” Bach is marked by a spirit of musical asceticism which, in the Art of Fugue, is embodied in the “strictness” and austere nature of these strange and long fugues; this is an element which is definitely missing from the Toccatas or his Suites.
There is an almost spiritual quality in this transition, which I find quite moving…

Flute and Harp Concerto

... του Μότσαρτ βέβαια. Άκουγα χθες το δεύτερο μέρος και συνειδητοποίησα ότι ίσως αυτό να είναι από τα πρώτα μουσικά έργα που έχω ακούσει. Είχαμε στο σπίτι έναν δίσκο με θέμα την ζωή του Μότσαρτ (το μόνο που θυμάμαι είναι ότι αφηγητής ήταν ο Αλέξης Κωστάλας). Και εκεί, μεταξύ άλλων, άκουσα για πρώτη φορά ένα δίλεπτο απόσπασμα από το δεύτερο μέρος του κοντσέρτου. Αλλά, πράγμα όντως εντυπωσιακό, μέσα στα δυό λεπτά (της έναρξης), ο Μότσαρτ προλαβαίνει να χτίσει μια μελωδία τόσο πολυδιάστατη, ώστε έχεις την αίσθηση ότι η διάρκειά της πολλαπλάσιαζεται εσωτερικά. Και τι μελωδία είναι αυτή! Δεν υπακούει σε καμιά σύμβαση, αρνείται να κλειστεί σε φόρμες. Διαθέτει μια αυθυπαρξία ασυνήθιστη ακόμα και με τα δεδομένα του Αμαντέους.

Volodos live in Vienna!

Μετά από τρία περίπου χρόνια, ο μεγάλος πιανίστας Arcadi Volodos προσφέρει στο κοινό έναν καινούριο δίσκο - την ζωντανή ηχογράφηση ενός ρεσιτάλ που έδωσε τον περασμένο Μάρτη στην Musicferein της Βιέννης. Γενικώς, ο συγκεκριμένος μουσικός είναι ιδιαίτερα φειδωλός όσον αφορά στην δισκογραφική του παραγωγή, πράγμα που υποδηλώνει σύνεση. Αλλά ό,τι τελικώς κυκλοφορεί είναι ...διαμάντι!
Άκουσα χθες ένα μέρος απ' τον δίσκο και κρατώ ως καλύτερη μέχρι τώρα εντύπωση την ερμηνεία των Valse Nobles et Sentimentales του Ravel. Είναι ένα έργο προς το οποίο τρέφω ανάμικτα συναισθήματα - άλλοτε μου αρέσει πολύ και άλλοτε δυσκολεύομαι να το ακούσω μέχρι τέλους. Η συγκεκριμένη όμως ερμηνεία είχε έναν ήχο μαγικό, με άπειρες ποιοτικές διαβαθμίσεις, τόσο "λεπτά" επεξεργασμένο ώστε είναι να αναρωτιέται κανείς πώς γίνεται ένας πιανίστας σε μια "ζωντανή" ερμηνεία να πετυχαίνει ένα τέτοιο άρτιο, υπεράνθρωπο θα'λεγες, κατόρθωμα. Απόλυτος έλεγχος του ήχου, "θολή" ραβελιανή ατμόσφαιρα, παίξιμο που αγγίζει την τελειότητα. Απ' τις πρώτες κιόλας νότες, ο Βόλοντος κατορθώνει (άγνωστο πώς!) να υποβάλλει τον ακροατή σε μια απίστευτη ατμοσφαιρικότητα.
Το άλλο πολύ ενδιαφέρον σημείο του δίσκου είναι μια μεταγραφή του ίδιου του πιανίστα πάνω σε ένα νανούρισμα του Τσαϊκόφσκυ. Το έπαιξε ως encore στο συγκεκριμένο ρεσιτάλ. Το βρήκα πολύ πετυχημένο μουσικά και πιανιστικά. Από τα κομμάτια του δίσκου αυτό το τελευταίο είναι που μου κίνησε το ενδιαφέρον να βρω και να μελετήσω.

Olia Lazaridou's Interview

Διάβαζα χθες μια συνέντευξη της ηθοποιού Όλιας Λαζαρίδου στην Athens News, και τράβηξε την προσοχή μου μια δήλωσή της, την οποία θα ήθελα να μεταφέρω εδώ με δικά μου λόγια. Έλεγε, λοιπόν, πως η μουσική, κατά την γνώμη της, είναι η ύψιστη μορφή τέχνης – υπερβαίνει ακόμα και αυτήν του θεάτρου. Προσέθεσε δε πως θα ήθελε στο μέλλον να ασχοληθεί πιο σοβαρά με την «μουσική ποιότητα των λέξεων». Είναι κρίμα που ο περιορισμένος χώρος της εφημερίδας (αν και γενναιόδωρα προσφερμένος στην περίπτωση της συγκεκριμένης συνέντευξης) δεν επαρκούσε για μια περαιτέρω εξήγηση της δήλωσης αυτής. Επειδή όμως τα λόγια αυτά προέρχονται απ’ το στόμα ενός σοβαρού ανθρώπου που μετρά τα λόγια του, και ο οποίος μάλιστα δεν είναι μουσικός, νομίζω αξίζει να διακινδυνεύσω μια σύντομη σκέψη - εικαζόμενη εξήγηση της πρότασης αυτής.

Ίσως, συλλογίζομαι, να είναι δύο τα ιδιώματα της μουσικής που θα ήταν ικανά να την ξεχωρίσουν από άλλες μορφές τέχνης. Το πρώτο είναι η «γλώσσα» του αρρήτου και το δεύτερο, η κίνηση στον χρόνο. Η γλώσσα της μουσικής δεν παραπέμπει σε σημαινόμενα, δεν σημαίνεται εννοιολογικά. Λέει κάτι με περισσή σαφήνεια αλλά, κατά παράδοξο τρόπο, αυτό που λέει δεν μπορεί να ειπωθεί. Ο κόσμος της φαντασίας και ο χώρος της ψυχής αφήνονται ελεύθεροι καθώς οι λέξεις, οι έννοιες, η λογική, οποιαδήποτε περιοριστική οριοθέτηση ή σύμβαση, καταρρέει. Έτσι, η φαντασία ανέρχεται ελεύθερη στα ύψη, η δε ψυχή γλιστρά ευκολότερα στα βάθη. Φοβερό πράγμα.
Το άλλο ιδίωμα, η κίνηση στον χρόνο, είναι πιο δύσκολο να εξηγηθεί, μου λείπουν και οι γνώσεις. Μια σκέψη μόνο έρχεται στο μυαλό μου, ότι η μουσική υπάρχει μόνο εν χρόνω. Και μάλιστα χρόνο παροντικό. Η παρτιτούρα, οι νότες, δεν είναι μουσική. Και το θέατρο υπάρχει εν χρόνω αλλά όχι στον απόλυτο βαθμό που αυτό ισχύει για την μουσική: νομίζω (και διορθώστε με αν σφάλλω εδώ) πως μπορεί κανείς να απολαύσει το θεατρικό κείμενο και στο επίπεδο μιας απλής ανάγνωσης, κάτι που δεν συμβαίνει στην μουσική. Γιατί, άραγε, το στοιχείο της εν χρόνω κίνησης είναι σημαντικό; Μα διότι, κατ’ αυτόν τον τρόπο, η μουσική «συντονίζεται» στον χρόνο της ζωής, "αλλοιώνει" την ποιότητά του, έρχεται να διαλύσει την συμβατικότητα του μέτρου του: η αρχή της Ενάτης του Μπετόβεν, φερ' ειπείν, θέτει νέα «αρχή» στον χρόνο, επιβάλλει στον δικό μας χρόνο την αίσθηση μιας απόλυτης ακινησίας. Αντίστοιχα, λχ στο τρίτο μέρος του Κοντσέρτου για Βιολί του Σιμπέλιους , ο χρόνος χάνει την βαρυτική του δύναμη, απογειώνεται πανάλαφρος σε άλλες ταχύτητες και άλλες διαστάσεις. Τα δευτερόλεπτα, τα λεπτά κι’ οι ώρες κυλούν όπως πάντα· αλλά ο χρόνος, στην εσωτερική του διάσταση, έχει «δουλωθεί» στην μουσική, κινείται πλέον στην δική της συχνότητα και πραγματικότητα. Παράδοξη, αλήθεια, η αντιφατικότητα αυτής της αίσθησης "υποδούλωσης" αλλά και "απελευθέρωσης" του χρόνου μας. Ο τελευταίος, συνεπώς, πλουτίζει σε ποιότητα, βιώνεται εντονότερα ως παρόν (αυτό το παρόν που τόσο συχνά μας ξεγλιστρά...), κερδίζει σε βάθος, ενίοτε δε, καταλύεται.

Λίγο πρόχειρα όλα αυτά, αλλά αναριωτιέμαι αν η Λαζαρίδου θα συμφωνούσε...

Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra playing the Symphonic Dances

Δεν έχω ακούσει καλύτερη εκτέλεση στο περίφημο τελευταίο έργο του Ραχμανινοφ, τους "Συμφωνικούς Χορούς" [Decca], από τούτη εδώ. Η εκπληκτική αυτή ορχήστρα, υπό την διεύθυνση του Vladimir Askenazy (τι μέγαλος μουσικός!), ερμηνεύει το έργο με τόση δύναμη, τόσο πάθος, τόση ορμή. Λίγες φορές με έχει συνεπάρει έτσι ηχογράφηση.

Μιλούσα τις προάλλες με έναν καλό φίλο που είναι λάτρης της μουσικής - και μου έλεγε πόσο αγαπά την Concertgebouw... Ακούγοντας αυτήν την ηχογράφηση, του δίνω απόλυτο δίκιο. Είναι, όντως, ορχήστρα τρομακτικών δυνατοτήτων.

Goldberg: The concert...

Έπαιξα τελικώς! Ήταν μια πολύ δύσκολη εβδομάδα, ήμουν μέχρι και την παραμονή έτοιμος να την ακυρώσω, καθώς δεν είχα μελετήσει πολύ λόγω της γρίπης.

Η αίσθησή μου είναι πως πήγε καλά το πράγμα - καλύτερα του αναμενομένου. Σε αυτό έπαιξε σαφώς ρόλο το γεγονός ότι ο "Παρνασός", με την ακούραστη φροντίδα του καλλιτεχνικού του διευθυντή Αντώνη Γιαμβριά, απέκτησε ένα μοναδικό στολίδι - ένα εξαίσιο Steinwway concert grand, απ' τα πιάνα εκείνα που "παίζουν" μόνα τους! Χάρηκα αφάνταστα τον ωραίο ήχο, την "ανταποκρισιμότητα" (υπάρχει η λέξη;;) του πιάνου. Είχα να παίξω σε καλό steinway απ' την εποχή της Αγγλίας!

Κόσμος λιγοστός - ίσως λόγω του βροχερού καιρού.

Δεδομένων των συνθηκών πάντως, νομίζω δεν πήγε άσχημα. Αλλά, φυσικά, με τα έργα αυτά δεν "τελειώνεις" ποτέ, μια ζωή τα ανακαλύπτεις.

Goldberg ?????

Ατυχία!

Είμαι από προχθές άρρωστος, πιθανότατα με την περίφημη γρίπη!... Δεν άγγιξα το πιάνο. Εάν μέχρι το Σάββατο δεν έχω επανέλθει, πάει η συναυλία... Τί να κάνουμε... Συμβαίνουν αυτά...

Goldberg, Take 2

Σήμερα αποφάσισα να παίξω το έργο με όλες τις επαναλήψεις (που δεν σκοπεύω να παίξω στο ρεσιτάλ). Θεωρώ καλό σημάδι το ότι δεν κουράστηκα πάρα πολύ όταν τελείωσα. Η Παραλλαγή 26 δύσκαμπτη - χθες ήταν πολύ καλή, δεν ξέρω τι έγινε σήμερα. Κατά τα άλλα, καλούτσικα μεν, αλλά και πάλι λείπει η "πίεση" κοινού. Δεν γίνεται να πετύχεις "εξομοίωση" συνθηκών συναυλίας!

Τούτη την ώρα ακούω μια αγαπημένη σονάτα του Scarlatti, αυτήν σε σι ελάσσονα, Κ87, παιγμένη υπέροχα από τον Μιχαήλ Πλετνιέφ.

Έξω ο αέρας μαίνεται.

Goldberg Take 1

Σημερινή εκτέλεση, τηλεγραφικά σχόλια:

Δεν μπόρεσα να φτάσω στην "ένταση" που είχα όταν έπαιζα χθες. Προσπάθησα να "καθαρίσω" την μουσική από ρομαντικές προσμίξεις. Προκύπτουν διαρκώς καινούρια λάθη, σαν τη λερναία ύδρα αυτό το κομμάτι! Ο χρόνος της μελέτης ανεπαρκής και λιγοστός, με τόσα πράγματα να "τρέχουν" δεξιά και αριστερά.

A piano lesson

Έρχομαι από ένα μάθημα πιάνου πάνω στις «Παραλλαγές Goldberg» τις οποίες, Θεού θέλοντος, πρόκειται να παίξω σε δύο περίπου εβδομάδες. Ήταν μεγάλη η χαρά και η ευλογία να παίξω το έργο σε μια περίφημη πιανίστα, έναν άνθρωπο απλό και ζεστό που έτυχε, μέσα από μια λίγο παράξενη αφορμή, να γνωρίσω πριν περίπου ένα μήνα. Δεν θα ήθελε, ίσως, να αναφέρω εδώ το όνομά της...

Κατάλαβα απόψε πόσο σημαντικό είναι να έχεις την γνώμη και καθοδήγηση ενός ενεργού καλλιτέχνη (αυτό που λένε performing artist). Οι συμβουλές που πήρα δεν ήταν μόνο θεωρητικές ή αισθητικές –ήταν κυρίως πρακτικές, απόσταγμα εμπειρίας πολλών χρόνων στις συναυλιακές αίθουσες. Διότι δεν πρέπει, θαρρώ, να ξεχνάμε πως το πιάνο είναι σε πολύ μεγάλο βαθμό πράξη, δηλ. διαδοχή συγκεκριμένων ενεργειών που είναι προσδιορίσιμες σε σημαντικό βαθμό.

Έπαιξα το έργο, κατά τη γνώμη μου, μέτρια. Νομίζω βρήκα τον εαυτό μου μετά την δέκατη παραλλαγή. Ορισμένες καλές στιγμές, άλλες όχι. Ως συνήθως. Αλλά είχα, καθόλη τη διάρκεια, σαφή συναίσθηση της αδυναμίας μου να ελέγξω τον ήχο μου, της ανημπόριας μου να υποτάξω όλο αυτό το πελώριο ηχητικό και μουσικό υλικό: απειρία, τεχνικές ελλείψεις, μουσικές ατέλειες, ασαφείς ιδέες– όλα βγήκαν αυτομάτως στην επιφάνεια.

Η ΔΚ μου επεσήμανε πως σε αρκετές απ’ τις αργές παραλλαγές «αφήνομαι» σε ρομαντικές ελευθερίες εκτός στυλ και μου έδειξε συγκεκριμένα σημεία στα οποία ο ήχος μου «ξεφεύγει» σε πλαίσια ασύμβατα προς το χαρακτήρα του έργου. Για τα σημεία που τρέμω(!) (κάποιες πολύ δύσκολες παραλλαγές), μου πρότεινε να προσπαθήσω να «οργανώσω» την σκέψη μου εκείνη τη στιγμή, σε συγκεκριμένο «κατάλογο» ενεργειών – τοποθέτηση χεριών, σκέψη του tempo, κλπ- αυτό, πιστεύει, βοηθάει στο να απεμπλακεί κανείς από το άγχος. Και μου είπε πως πρέπει με προσοχή και νηφαλιότητα να εντοπίσω τον λόγο –γιατί υπάρχει πάντα λόγος- για τον οποίο «φοβάμαι» κάποιο passage. Μου έκανε εντύπωση το πόσο η συγκεκριμένη σολίστ έχει ξεκαθαρίσει μέσα της τα πράγματα, τόσο σε τεχνικό όσο και σε ερμηνευτικό επίπεδο: ξέρει να «διαβάζει» μια παρτιτούρα, να «ξεκλειδώνει» το μυστικό της όποιας δυσκολίας της, και να ξεκαθαρίζει το τοπίο, βήμα-βήμα. Εγώ απέχω πολύ από αυτό! Αλλά το αποψινό μάθημα με έβαλε σε έναν καλό δρόμο.

Οι Παραλλαγές Goldberg – ένα απίστευτο συνθετικό κατόρθωμα. Δεν φτάνει μια ζωή μελέτης για να «τελειώσεις» με ένα τέτοιο έργο. Όποτε ξεκινώ να το παίζω, αισθάνομαι πως ισορροπώ σε τεντωμένο σχοινί. Ή πως βουτάω δίχως σωσίβιο σε άπατα ωκεάνεια βάθη.