Wednesday, August 13, 2003
I sat, eyes closed and listened to the crashing breakers of sound rushing over - and through, me, interspersed with the exquisite lulls of delicate silences. The Proms, Royal Albert Hall, London. Beethoven's Seventh symphony, in particular, impressed me.
I watched, slack jawed with wonder as a vibrant, and stunning brunette hurled her soul into her violin , as she seamlessly pulled off an impassioned sequence of double-stops, and Emoted while she did it. All in the span of a split-second, and suddenly the wave had broken and there was a gentle, silken sweetness emanating from her instrument, which had been crying broken-heartedly the second before. I wondered idly what violin she was playing on, that could produce such dulcet tones, and what passions ran through her being, to be able to milk them from her violin like so.
We speak of our "violin prodigies" back home, our stunning children who play with the technical ability, and soul, of well-programmed machines. But never have I seen anything like this, from them.
Never has an "ordinary prodigy", the likes of which are so commonplace here, produced anything quite like this, back home.
I closed my eyes, and fell through the sky.
********
I wondered if perhaps I had been too facetious to ask a colleague I barely knew if she'd like to go - I wonder what she thinks of me now. lol. But then again, if I've got her pegged right, she wouldn't really be the sort to mind.
I watched, slack jawed with wonder as a vibrant, and stunning brunette hurled her soul into her violin , as she seamlessly pulled off an impassioned sequence of double-stops, and Emoted while she did it. All in the span of a split-second, and suddenly the wave had broken and there was a gentle, silken sweetness emanating from her instrument, which had been crying broken-heartedly the second before. I wondered idly what violin she was playing on, that could produce such dulcet tones, and what passions ran through her being, to be able to milk them from her violin like so.
We speak of our "violin prodigies" back home, our stunning children who play with the technical ability, and soul, of well-programmed machines. But never have I seen anything like this, from them.
Never has an "ordinary prodigy", the likes of which are so commonplace here, produced anything quite like this, back home.
I closed my eyes, and fell through the sky.
********
I wondered if perhaps I had been too facetious to ask a colleague I barely knew if she'd like to go - I wonder what she thinks of me now. lol. But then again, if I've got her pegged right, she wouldn't really be the sort to mind.
