Ambassador Paulo Américo W. had chosen to have the 1st Festival of Brazilian Culture in the summer resort of Varna, a charming little town in Bulgaria. When we first met in Sofia, at one of the receptions he’d generously thrown in my honour at the occasion of my playing Prokofiev 3 with Rossen M. and his young orchestra (v.Nov 2007), the Ambassador decided there and then, that I had to be included in the festival he was planning. His delightful wife Lygia, being a native of Bahia, like me, meant we all hit it off pretty well. At his suggestion, an extra date was secured with the Varna Symphony (again to play Prokofiev # 3 : the reason why I seem to be favouring this Concerto lately is because I’m to record it on DVD, in Lugano, later this year. So the more the merrier.

Back to Varna, a pretty busy visit in 4 days, you might say, but I prefer working hard on any trip. The festivities as well as a series of films and other events which preceded my arrival, included chef Beto Pimentel preparing several meals of typical cuisine from the different regions of Brazil; great outdoors events with percussionist Claudio Kron leading masses of willing native Bulgarians either hitting Brazilian drums or shaking ‘chocallhos’ or bells, through the streets of Varna – needless to say that it was quite easy to recognize the non- Brazilians by the way their bodies moved; and visual artist Rogério Dias exhibited a lovely selection of his happy canvas.

I was to close the festival by playing a recital in the terrace of old Royal Palace with a program of Debussy + Fructuoso Vianna + Villa-Lobos. Rain came down as we were waiting for the performance (I needed a layer of cashmere around my upper body to fight the cold, at least to start with); luckily after a bit of a delay, the skies cleared so I could start. I had thought of being surrounded even more by nature so the place was beautifully ornamented by a few of Rogério’s canvas along the terrace… Birds singing in the night and/or hanging on the wall plus the sounds of Debussy’s 2nd Arabesque – which I renamed ‘’oiseaux” for the occasion -- plus the sound of drying drops of real rain in the quiet of the night, mixed with Debussy’s imagination in musically portraying the sounds of water in his “Jardins sous la pluie”, made reality become surreal or perhaps… was it a case of magic seeming real?!

The following day I traveled back to home in the south of France: the 6 young pianists due to arrive in the morning. Unfortunately I must have eaten something bad on board the Bulgarian Airlines flight and I tell you: through the whole journey I had the worst case of food poisoning you can imagine: upon arrival at Bordeaux I could hardly keep my head up, let alone drive home from the airport…

But luckily to me, the youngsters were a bit delayed so I had some a few extra hours in which to compose myself; by the time the first five arrived by train to the little town closest to my house, I seemed almost human! Then a rush to Bergerac airport to pick up the last one to arrive and back… to ‘’face the music’’.

I must say, the week went very quickly with that most international of groups: Alex (Russian), Paul (Spaniard), Bonnie (Australian), Anna Lisa (Italian), Kausikan (Sri-Lankian-UK) and Manon (French-UK-German): if anything the week was hilariously entertaining. Each of them had something particular: one who could hardly eat anything normal (a vegetalian, yes, that’s right: no mistake there!); one could not stop talking; another could not stop playing piano, even while others played table-tennis); another could not do two things at a time – so much so that when she was making salad, and somebody asked her a question, that salad, oh boy… did it take looong to be ready; a last one incessantly took pictures of everything and everyone, including her own toe-nails… We played lots of late-night round-the-table ping-pong (accompanied by piano! Help, stop!) in order to spend left-over energy, after large meals which unfailingly finished with a massive apple-crumble for dessert, plus cream, ice-cream or both… nearly every night; the gorgeous apples coming from my garden. These workshops – the one 5 years ago also – will forever be remembered as the apple-crumble-workshop and I… the queen of crumble.

As far as lessons, there were some 7 to 8 hours per day: I adore teaching; be it Saturday, or Sunday… come rain or sunshine…I thrive with activity. I must say though, with so much repertoire been covered during the week. the pianists continuously sharing the instruments before-or-after-hours, that when they finally left the place, I was so exhausted mentally that although I had to prepare Dohnányi’s Nursery Rhyme Variations for São Paulo a few days later, I spent two days without being able to look at pianos …

Of course, looking back it was a most enjoyable time; they were a variety of such strong characters… I’ll never forget the time spent together. Upon leaving some already begged for another workshop… It might just possibly be that failed formula mentioned earlier…

“What do you think guys, should we go for chamber-music next?”

Before the month was over, I flew once more to São Paulo: I’d be staying at my friends’ flat where I have the luxury of that brand-new Fazioli at my disposal, any time of day or night. The two concerts at the Teatro Municipal went less well than expected -- the youngish conductor --supposedly had lived in Hungary for many years so I presumed had come across or know the Dohnányi -- had never done that difficult piece and without flair …or any flexibility at accompanying such witty music it was touch-and-go. Win some, lose others I’d say and leave it at that!

Never mind, still I love being in Brazil. This time I met a girl who offered to take care of my website, from now on. Apart from playing the piano – we had a lovely lesson – she’s studying composition and is an IT expert! Hurray: maybe I’ll be able to keep “My Journal” a bit more up-to-date?!

Music is my life … his home.

Only recently I read that Arthur Rubinstein said that “he lived in many places, but music was his … real home”. I feel exactly the same.