the end of time at the beginning of the year

Happy New Year! 2008 has begun with projects that remind me of how lucky I am to be a musician.

Today is the official release date of my piano duo album "Reimagine." (Read my reflections on the album here.)

Last week I gave my first public performance of Messiaen's Quatour pour la fin du temps with my esteemed Academy colleagues. I couldn't have asked for a better way to commence my year than with this rapturous, mystical 50-minute masterwork that eludes all description.

As I worked on the piece, I was fixated on the Angel's words [which Messiaen had included in the score], "Il n'y aura plus de Temps"—it became my mantra. I loved delving into the darkest nightmarish depths, striving toward the most beatific heights, and tapping into the terrible joy of the music. I loved blending my sound with the strings and clarinets to create an unyielding, massive, granite-like sonority in the inexorably formidable six movement. I loved sitting without playing for 15 minutes in breathless awe during the solo clarinet movement and the "Intermède" for the other three instruments, and then finally ending my respite with the rich E major chord that begins the accompaniment to the cello's reverent, seemingly infinite "Louange à l'Éternité de Jésus." (This movement to me is love incarnate.) This music transcends the bounds of time and space, and what a revelation it was to explore Messiaen's devotional vision of the Eternal.

To quote Victor Hugo: "Soyez à l'infinie."

cruel beauty

I just alighted upon this quotation of Benjamin Britten, and I love it:

"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and of freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, and everlasting beauty of monotony."

Music may torture us, but the "suffering" it inflicts is the best kind—one that compels us to confront our fears and desires, to delve deeply into and stretch beyond ourselves, to face the infinite.

This peerless, all-encompassing force of music is something I try to tap into every time I perform, but I don't always succeed. However, I felt especially connected during my recent performance at Ravinia. In spite of a cold and a severe lack of preparation—due to my crazy schedule and inconvenient practicing situation (i.e. no piano in my apartment), not a lack of responsibility!—everything somehow locked into place and I found myself equipped with this ineluctable ability to shape things just as I wished. It is the greatest joy to lose yourself in the music and the moment (to loosely quote Eminem) while opening your heart to the people around you. Alone on that stage and embraced by attentive listeners, I felt empowered and free, and although a performance doesn't last temporally, its echoes endure.

To return to the aforementioned quotation, I am finding a forlorn and urgent beauty in Radiohead's latest effort, In Rainbows. Standout tracks to me include "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi," "All I Need," and "House of Cards." Another piece of music I'm obsessed with at the moment: Messiaen's "Louange à l'Éternité de Jésus" from the Quatour pour la fin du temps. This is beauty at its most ecstatic.

out of the way, out of the ordinary

I'm back after a short excursion to the Catskill Mountains. Pouring rain and gusts of unseasonably chilly winds greeted me upon my return to the city, but my spirits remain undampened after this enjoyable trip.

I gave a solo recital last night at the Shandelee Music Festival, and I was touched by the audience's tremendous warmth, enthusiasm, openness, and attentiveness. Three things I deduced about my wonderful audience from their reactions and feedback: 1) people embraced the varied program and appreciated the inclusion of new music, 2) they were big fans of the Gershwin encore, and 3) they really loved the impromptu commentary I gave on the music. I've always believed in the importance of establishing a lively and organic rapport with the audience, via the music and its presentation. Also, I enjoy live concerts because of the unpredictable things that can unfold; for instance, I managed to rip the hem of my dress (these performances are never tame affairs!). The presenters, staff, and young artists were all delightful, and I got to stay in a beautiful "chateau" to boot.

It was definitely refreshing to momentarily escape the city, breathe some fresh air, lose cell phone reception, and perform music that I love for people who care.