V. Ashkenazy’s Rachmaninov Cycle with the Sydney Symphony.

Having done the same Concerto # 2 with the Maestro, in Luzern many years ago to great praise both from him and his wife-- I remembered being very surprised at that because I didn’t think I had performed it that well -- I arrived at the Opera House most relaxed and proud of having been selected to be doing the opening concert in the Cycle...

Things progressed well enough in rehearsals. The piano on stage although quite new wasn’t great; surprised and a bit desperate, I was lucky to come across another one in the depths of the pit which certainly felt more powerful in that huge hall. Arriving for the general rehearsal I announced to Vova that because I was so tired with jet-lag and the lack of sleep I really should ‘’save a bit”, in order to have ‘something left’ for the evening.... Eyes wide-open, he replied: “But you have to play out, it’s being recorded”: the Japanese recording company present in the deal was expected to tape/use the general as a back-up to the real performance in the evening… I don’t want to dwell too much on this: the end result I thought was a normal performance.

Now arriving onstage for the following concert, the moment I sat down I noticed that the chair had started squeaking; knowing that mikes would pick-up any noise, I did not have the guts of asking for another, in front of a capacity audience! He-l-lo? How much more must I learn? As a result I felt totally restricted and uncomfortable: my mind left me for a split-second in the 2nd movement and bang: a memory-lapse. It wasn’t that important a place and it didn’t displace anything more than the big pizziccato at the end of the run up which Vova brought the orchestra down God-knows-where… It upset me for two seconds once I got backstage, no longer and Vova  immediately said: ”never mind”.

Just to recap the above: it seems my contribution wasn’t good enough to be included in the recording… No comments.
Then on the last day of my stay, injustice over the Adelaide incident started to hit me so that when I arrived back home in London I had to cope with plenty of hassle (v. November).
Much nicer an occasion was the next date: with dear R. Milanov who had conducted me in Philadelphia + Slovenia + Haddonfield, in 2006. This time he invited me to his home town, Sofia on my first visit to Bulgaria.

One most weird experience begs telling, which marked that performance of Prokofiev # 3. From the moment I played the piano entrance: “do-fa-sol” ….what …in the world …?? I noticed a lady seated in the 1st row, half-mad?,  wildly waving both her arms as if conducting, shaking her head and broadly smiling, as if in ecstasy… throughout the performance! Oh no… please someone, make her stop…

By the end of the 1st movement, a security guard kneeling by her, tried to convince her to move back a few rows. Because the stage was at a much higher level than the floor, Rossen noticing none of this, started the 2nd movement… I was completely thrown by the commotion going on in my field of vision to my right… and could hardly play that short cadenza preceding the variations…  The guy had by then sat down to kept her in check, physically holding down her arms for the remainder of the concert… I wanted it to end, so badly. Pianists knows how much of Prok 3 is played at the very top register… imagine: a new variation and… oops, there she goes... At least she never stopped smiling at me! Help!
The Brazilian Ambassador had kindly invited the conductor and management to come along with me to join them for some Brazilian hospitality and fun.  His wife, like me comes from glorious Bahia; we did enjoy ourselves. It’s a pleasure when diplomats living abroad are enthusiastic about ‘exported’ goods and show interest by being well informed, without one having to advertise one’s presence in the country… He told me he had always adored my recording of Gottschalk’s “Fantasia Triunfal sôbre o Hino Nacional Brasileiro”… I promised that if ever I got to visit Bulgaria again, I’d prepare that as an encore. Actually he’s trying his best to get me back this coming summer, so I had better start practicing: a promise is a promise!

Next, I was to play Mozart’s most gorgeous of Concertos, the K 595 in B flat. With the Cannes Orchestra not under their principal conductor – ‘old pal’ Philippe Bender -- but a visiting Bulgarian trained … in Germany. From the moment I sat down at the piano in the rehearsal-room, never had I imagined feeling as utterly alone as I did. Once the orchestra came slowly in, it went on as if no-one was there with me. Usually I have such an ‘entente’ with fellow musicians: not this once. It got worse: absolutely no contact, my music never seeming to touch anyone (apart from the bassoonist, at least he was alive enough to feel and tell me so) … strange. France hasn’t been often on my itinerary recently, therefore there are very few earlier experiences for me to judge by. It gets worse: it must have disturbed me more than I knew, when on that Sunday afternoon performance, a few minutes into the exposition the winds came in ... a clashingly dissonant  key … I realize I had taken the wrong turn in the preceding solo passage! A nightmarish few bars ensued and a ‘life-time’ later, I got back in: there is nothing more exposed than a Mozart score! Christ, was I shell-shocked! Quickly, I must concentrate in putting it all behind me not to let it get to the subconscious: to err is but humain and it certainly wasn’t from lack of preparation or love for the score, I absolutely adore it!

My self-explanations: in Sydney, there was that disturbing and squeaking chair; in Cannes the atmosphere wasn’t propitious to good music-making. I strive more and more on comfort … and togetherness. It shouldn’t have happened but one can’t always control everything, right?!
A light at the end of a long tunnel: Brazil lay ahead of me on the last trip of this busy month of November! Phew: that put me back in the right track, I’m happy to say. Batteries recharged to the tilt, loads of loving family and friends constantly fussing over me. Nicest also to be able to spend time with my elder daughter who decided to move to my country, no doubt trying to find her roots!

Musically speaking I had a program to ‘salivate’ over: a recipe for success: what better than a contrasting concoction of Ravel and Rachmaninov to challenge one? Two of the most satisfying pieces written for piano: the glorious triptych of Ravel’s “Gaspard de la nuit” and Rachmaninov’s Sonata # 2; en passant by “Jeux d’eau”, Sonatine and/or a haunting Étude-tableau in a-minor ... Plus my public, my people: my bliss!

The fact that I had not played solo in Brazil for five years caused a stir among cognoscenti and colleagues, who did not want to miss that chance of hearing me. Nothing more appropriate than a new series called Piano Solo, where everyone is most united in launching this project for helping children in need. The enthusiasm of Eduardo M and Érico V is crowned by the charm of the team of ladies who make it happen!
“Bravo, estão de parabéns, muito obrigada pelo apoio, carinho e ... paciência!”

Also I’m delighted to announce that I managed to squeeze in there, a three-setter of social-doubles of tennis, my favourite sport. The most traditional of Rio’s hotels, the Copacabana Palace, may leave a lot to be desired in the quality of handling/welcoming of guests who aren’t of the status of Madonna or the Rolling Stones, but the discovery of its perfectly looked-after outdoors tennis-court, free for their patrons’ use made up for it!

Paulo (who’s 1st flute in the local OSB) and I had been planning forever to play together. Here a last was our chance; although he arrived late and seemed ‘half-asleep’, after a little urging from ‘keen-me’ woke-up and to the dismay of Stella and Pedro (joint-sponsors of the piano series), we duly won the grueling combat!! 
“So-r-ry guys, but it felt great”!