Ever since my honeymoon, light years ago, I never forgot the moment I gasped at the sight of perfection: the Teatro Amazonas, visible from the river and every angle in town. It had been inaugurated at the end of the XIX century, in the year of 1897. Coincidentally as I was due to play the massive Concerto in B flat by Brahms, 1897 had also been the year of his death.
From my hotel room as I opened the curtains, I knew that someone must have chosen my room quite strategically: I could look straight down at the Theater, majestically set at the back of a charmingly quiet and atmospheric square. Later, daydreaming as I lay in bed, happily exhausted from the day’s work, the amazing building, seemed to come to life, peeping, smiling at me -- images which made me think of that most adorable of Ravel’s work “L’enfant et les sortilèges”! Indeed the magical moments spent playing to my heart’s content, on the stage of the gorgeous 780-seater will remain in my mind, as the most magical of my career: the whole experience felt surreally like a dream come true!
Given that I come across few compatriots on the podium and still haunted by last year’s nightmare (v. February 2006) -- do you wonder -- working with the ever-so-calm conductor, Luís Malheiro, was a breath of fresh air. The Amazonas Filarmônica is filled with Bulgarians and Russians; most of them, married to local men or women have made Manaus, this gentlest of Brazilian towns, their home for the last 8-10 years.
The life of a concert pianist can be the loneliest of all professions in the music business. Contrary to common belief and although Music is conducive to loving or sharing feelings, the existence of a keyboard soloist is not synonymous to gregariousness: once rehearsals are over, ever so swiftly, everyone goes back to his/her own daily routine. The visiting artist has no choice but to remain hanging on to the piano, mainly for comfort’s sake! Opportunities to meet some great people are abundant but encounters of the spontaneous kind do not happen that often: everyone assumes exciting programs pack one’s day ... not true!
When I noticed some musicians looking in from backstage, quite a long while after rehearsal was over, I beckoned at them to approach for a chat and timidly suggested going out for a drink or two later on, my treat: this time I was lucky!

Never mind that ‘sweet’ Glória (1st clarinet) had a flat-tire as her car approached the hotel: back-up relief, promptly arrived in the shape of ‘quiet’ Daniel (timpanist).
In the morning of my scheduled departure, ‘emotional’ Claudinho (2nd flute) offered to drive us around town -- revealing how my soulful encore Villa-Lobos’ Valsa da Dor had touched him deeply. We took some pictures (v. Photo Gallery) and stopped to drink “água de côco verde”, the delicious water of young/green coconuts -- a ritual usually associated with a stroll alongside the gorgeous beaches of Rio or Salvador. However here we were, on the bank of The Amazon, a river that at its widest, can reach some eight kilometers: it felt more exotic and picturesque than any sea!
On another occasion, ‘guided’ by Noemi (harp), a carioca* full of life, we spent a lot of time looking for her favourite places, only to find them shut ... on a Friday? Still, the ice cream was great and we had lots of fun!
“Obrigada, gente e até breve, espero”!

(* native of Rio)