She began the Chopin Fantaisie and felt a sense of calm descend on her and her fingers. This beautiful Steinway, just like her own Granny's, was at nine feet even more sonorous and beautiful, deep and rich, especially in the baritone octaves. She felt a depth there that her own seven-footer lacked, but of course this was a concert grand. Her confidence returned to her before the tempo picked up and she felt the music play itself. The slow introduction yielded to the romantic allegro, it kept building powder, and she realized she'd mastered the music. Those months of tireless devotion to her scales, her arpeggios, and every nuance of this music had finally paid off. This music was hers and she commanded the audience.
Agnes felt a keen sense of anticipation as the allegro reached its climax. Oh, if only Norman had approved of her doing this competition! If only he'd approved ... and if only he'd come with her today to Reading. The long train ride, even with her faithful Brian along, grated on Agnes's nerves because Norman wasn't there. How she missed his strong, steady hand, and oh, how proud he and the children would be of her -- thirty-three and performing this piece with a mastery even she'd never heard from herself.
The music built and climbed, ever higher, ever stronger, ever more powerful -- the four broken E-flat arpeggios stood in front of her. She played the first two with perfection: not a note was missed, the timing was perfect. Those four massive arpeggios! If only Norman could hear you, he'd understand and he'd have approved of her doing this. And then it happened, at the top of the final arpeggio: she missed the top note, playing an A rather than the expected G. And she missed the bottom note, playing a B rather than the expected B-flat. It sounded awful. Her career was over. Back to the kitchen, preparing meals for the children.
No comments:
Post a Comment