im snug in the mountains today, staying quiet in the blanket of brightest and warmest sun during the day, now surrouned by the dark blue soft curtains of mountain nights- with stars which continue to appear as one continue to gaze into the endless sky.
yesterday was a friday, a peak day in banff centre- friday night concert is a big celebration. it seems somewhat silly to say so, but it really is! people come to the mountains. and artists give little gifts- the gifts of music, given to us from the composers and writers, taken with care and nurtured, now presented if shyly to the audiences, who takes them with child-like eagerness and appreciation.
i was lucky and privileged to take part in the concert- after all, because im here for very very short sojourn, it became really dear to me to play in the rolston hall. with a guiding help, a lesson on tuesday (what a luxury!), this small monkey, with fluttering heart and sweaty hands, signed up with little wee ravel sonatine.
ravel sonatine is a bizarre work in a sense that it is loved yet it does not get programmed that often. it's relatively short work, each movements absolutely perfect. perhaps when one is trying to 'prove' to the world, it's not the best work- as if, bang-to-buck ratio is too low! haha. but i dont have anything to prove i suppose. i picked up this work last autumn when time was difficult and i needed to something to focus on- something beautiful, something nicer than the cruelty of reality. not to escape, but to remind self that existence of brutality confirms need and existence of such transcending beauty.
i came here to the mountains in 2009. like the song 'blackbird,' i learned to open up, fix my broken wings, and after a year, with winter flurries returning to the mountains, i flew back into life. as if i was also 'waiting for this moment to arise.'
and just as i learned to play again here, i was on last night, learning once again to stand by myself, to present, to sing for friends and banff family.
it's the first time i present ravel in a serious venue- ive shyly presented in very small and safe venues. after all, it's still fresh, as me and music still getting to know one another- as i steal tetzlaff's expression: interpretation is the true act of compassion. im learning to not only to love it, but to also listen and see where the music may want to go- to soar through the night, across the stars.
with unsteady hands and so much wish in my heart- wish that i wanted to please and give something real to people who genuinely loves me, there it was, in public, a blurred ten minutes of my life.
i still have no real clue how it went- it glided and some parts, i soared with it. but as all truly exciting experiences are, it is hard to trust self. i am curious to hear it tomorrow at the library...
the real special part of the concert, for me, was the later half- shauna rolston performed in rolston hall. my heart felt for the lady- what an amazing and overwhelming place to be at this time. the centre is facing big changes- uncertain therefore unnerving. mr. rolston, who built this place with mrs rolston, recently passed away two years ago... and mrs rolston unfortunately had a medical-related issue which took a great deal of life recently. for shauna, who grew up with the centre and recently had her birthday- i think it wouldve been a big night.
the centre connects people.
the centre gives chances-
for people to be different,
from daily lives.
everyone lives it differently,
but we all agree-
it is magic.
and we all know it.
the great rolston ladies know it.
and the guittarts lives it- with us.
looking into the horizon, im not certain what would take place next. but i am so glad i am here now- the symmetricity, the sense of closure (for this chapter of banff), inspiration and that magic that i will carry with me till next time...
listening to brad mehldau & anne sofie von otter's love song project, i cannot help but to put one number in repetition- dis, quand reviendras-tu?
the moments will pass, and lost moments- they wont come back...
so im soaking it in this evening. it will be an old story very soon, wee monkey in the cracks of the mountains, playing small, beautiful work, so eager to give something beautiful for banff family, a family that i will carry with my heart. and moments will pass, but no i wont forget- they wont come back, but i will carry them. i will be singing this melody again and again.
because this place is magic.
love to you all. thank you.
-dis, quand reviendras-tu (tell me, when will you return)
dis, au moins le sais-tu (tell me, at least you know)
que tout let temps qui passe (that all time which passes)
ne se rattrape plus... (will never made up again)
(lovely song by monique andree serf, aka. barbara, 1964)
(painting: david grossman, across the dusk and winter, oil, 12 x 16)