Piano Talk

 

Dinu Lipatti

“Do you play piano?” I’ve hailed a wiry bespeckled man walking out of the green house. For the last two years, during my pandemic walks, I’ve passed this house on Downer Street, and it’s been anything but a downer! I’ve stopped in front of this house often to listen to Bach, Joplin, and Beethoven. What a treat!

            So, today, when I see someone coming out of the house, I have to ask!

            He pauses at the end of the walkway, eyeing me suspiciously. “I AM the Pianist!” he proclaims.

            Oh, I should have known he doesn’t just play the piano with the music I’ve heard coming out of his house. He is The Pianist!

            “I love your piano playing!” I gush.

            “Do you? It is just practicing. The same phrase over and over again,” he shrugs.

            “Yes, well, it still is a beautiful sound to walk past.”

            “Do you walk by here often?”

            “Yes, fairly often.”

            “I’m moving. I moved the piano out yesterday. I’m going to Yuba.” He waves up toward the hills, Wildcat Canyon direction. I think, is Wildcat Canyon called Yuba? Or isn’t there a Yuba up north on the way to Eureka? I seem to remember passing a sign driving up there on the way to my parents’ place when they lived up there.

            “Oh, that’s a big move,” I offer, not really sure if it is.

Downtown Yuba City

            “I am going to Montreal to play this summer. And I will direct the blah blah blah….” He begins in on his resume. I nod, enthusiastic to meet this pianist I’ve been overhearing for years.

            “That’s so cool. You sound like a real pianist.”

            He gives me a funny look, “My piano teacher, when I was a boy, was a student of Dinu Lipatti.”

            “OH MY GOD! You’re kidding! That’s amazing!”

            He grins, takes a longer look at me, “Ah, so you know piano?”

            “Yes, I do. A little.” Actually, it’s one of two subjects I know a lot about. That and American Literature.

            “How do you know?”

            “I play piano,” I offer.

            He leans in, intent now.

            “Not a performer though. I used to teach, but I’ve lost most of my students because of the Pandemic.”

            He nods, “Yes. Did you teach online?”

            “Yeah, but it was mostly a disaster.”

            Again, he nods, sympathetic. “I did too, but I am old school. I do not like these new pianists. This Yuju Wang with her Short Skirts!” He bends slightly to draw a line on his jeaned thigh.

            I don’t tell him that I like Yuju, both her playing and her short skirts! What would he think of me? Instead, I play it safe:

            “Right now, I’m obsessed with Alfred Brendel and his performances of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas.”

            “Brendel! Yes! He is magnificent. But for me, it is Claudio Arrau. He is the one. He is perfection. His Beethoven. His Chopin. But mostly, his Schubert. Do you know these?”

Claudio Arrau

            “I have listened to the Beethoven. I’ll check out the Schubert.”

            “Yes, you must.”

            I venture into what I assume will be safe territory. “And Horowitz. He’s…”

            “Horowitz?” He scoffs. Then shrugs. “He is okay. Well, sometimes I will give him that he can be playing a piece and of course, it is nice enough, but then all of a sudden, he plays a phrase and….” The Pianist pauses, shakes his head, “…and you think, what did he just do? Where did that come from?”

            “Yes, I know what you mean,” I agree. And I do. Listening to Brendel I am often stopped by his exquisite artistry.

            “What is your name?” he asks me now.

            “Carol.”

            “Franco.”

            “Nice to meet you,” I don’t shake his hand. Covid is still in the air. And while we’ve been chatting without masks on the last few minutes, we are outside, there is the bay breeze and we’re at least 6 feet apart. He leaning on the battered Volvo station wagon. Me standing in the middle of the quiet street.

            And more quiet now without his piano.

            “I will miss your piano playing,” I say.

            “Really?” But he likes the compliment. Even though I’m sure he’s used to them.

            “Yes. Good luck to you with your move.”

            “Thank you.”

            He stands for a moment, expecting more Piano Talk, but I have to go. Got a ton of things on my to do list. The first being practice Beethoven.

            The second, find a recording of Claudio Arrau playing Schubert. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1lJqD82R8k