The Big Concert

My most important carillon recital since my diploma recital in Mechelen is tomorrow, and I am nervous because I know I'm just barely on the verge of being prepared--as I was for that recital. I will perform some of the most beautiful and difficult repertoire I have, including the second performance of Paul Coleman's complete acoustic Tiffany Sketches (the European premiere having occurred today in Brussels), and possibly multiple good carillonneurs will be listening. If this goes well, I'll be on my way to a three-important-concert roll with Berea and EROI lined up next.

I'm frustrated because, as last year before my recital, I haven't access to decent recording equipment. I realize now that for Christmas I should have asked fo a pocket digital recorder, because I am on the verge of going out and buying one in the afternoon. Why are musicians here so badly equipped to record? Even the carillon school has nothing besides a cassette or DAT (I forget which) recorder that's been kaput for years. And of course it's here that I sound best (the only exception perhaps being in Lier, but in any case, I don't find myself often in Belgium).

My concert in Brussels went as well as it could go on such a heavy instrument, though in retrospect I didn't have to program those pianistic pieces for a carillon that's nearly impossible to play with flat hands in the lower register. The Beethoven worked surprisingly well, and although the overtones made a ruckus in the playing cabin, Paul Takahashi said the timbre was practically relaxing on the ground. I seem to have missed befriending a kindred soul while I was living in Belgium last year; I knew we were both organ and carillon students of Joris Verdin and Geert D'hollander respectively, but I didn't realize we were also both cycling spelunkers, incurable sweet tooths, insomniac artists, insatiable travelers, fascinated by everything from early English keyboard repertoire to middle eastern and eastern music (although he knows far, far more about the latter than I probably ever will in my life), and that we are similar in less tangible ways as well. He owns a fair number of instruments, some exotic, as well as the piano of my dreams: an early 20th century Steinway grand. It was so beautiful to play and made it so natural to play beautifully; if I had such a treasure, I would return immediately to playing the piano and never stop. The Kawai at home hasn't this effect on me. Clearly I am still destined to find my way to a Steinway grand (in addition, now, to a yacht etc.)

A beautiful full yellow moon was hanging over the skyline as the train took me back to Mechelen, strains of "Hide and Seek" whispering in my ears. How long has it been since I really noticed the moon? The downtown Rochester skyline obscures or disguises it.

Sleep now. Rehearsal from 11:30 to 12:30 tomorrow. Must figure out how to work everything out on the 40-ton carillon of St. Rombouts in that hour. Wish me luck.