Showing posts with label Images. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Images. Show all posts
05 June 2007
24 May 2007
One for the Ladies
Also, I came across this poem today. You know it's real when it hurts, simple black words on blank white space.
HOW CAN YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT AND ONLY LOOK?
—Noel Kroeplin
I feel
your eyes
searing my skin
every time
we are together
until I am nothing
but a pile of ashes
that you feel the need
to repeatedly
blow away
30 April 2007
2 down, 3 to go
I'm bad about blogging regularly when I'm out of the country. That country. Deutschland.
Number 1: private recital on the Upper East Side, New York - I really enjoyed playing in this relaxed yet sophisticated atmosphere, surrounded by friends, fellow musicians, hosted by my favorite New York family in their lovely home with their lovely Steinway. And I got through the whole recital without falling off the bench, which considering my current program, is quite a feat.
Words: Kelly at JFK, brownstone, Madison Ave, guest room, apples, blue tile, practice practice practice, wintry Central Park, Greek Parade, MSM, John Williams, lying in the park, Dean Noon, scheduling office, Celeste, tagliatelle with cabbage, tea and Sara, cake at Mozart, former roommates, old friends, a very surprised ex, grapes, wine, home-cooked dinner for me, Lincoln Center, buses and subways, noise, smells, honking, taxis, shades of gray, Hungarian Pastry Shop, croissants, cool cement steps, warm spring night, heady bouquets, falling in love with a city I hate in so many ways, feeling like a New Yorker again - and liking the feeling.
Then: California. Studio class at the university. Interview with the newspaper. Big article printed in Friday's paper. Playing for my old teachers. Not being able to swear while practicing because of family in the house. Eroica Trio at Saratoga in the most beautiful villa situated in the coastal hills. Shostakovich and wine with Sara, schmoozing at the reception, talking to the girls.
Number 2: recital yesterday, audience of 300, Steinway D, packed hall, three standing ovations (after Schumann, Wagner, and encore), best performance to date, didn't feel so great though, family members coming from various surrounding cities, flowers and exhaustion, tired hands today. Timed it - 2 hours with intermission and encore. Serious business.
Tomorrow: practice practice practice. Yoga. My back is crunched these days.
Soon: recitals, competition, travelling, seeing more people (including my COUSINS and Joe!), feeling lonely still, wanting to talk, to have a real conversation with a real person that I'm really connected to.
Hey, you're alive, you're ALIVE, and I love it, I love being alive, together, breathing, feeling a gaze tingling on my skin, breathe in the night air and just be, quietly, separate, at the same time, words or no words, talking or not talking, makes no difference.
Schumann is a galaxy.
Epic, he said.
Best Beethoven 109 I've ever heard, in my life, all 60 years of them as a pianist.
Hey, sit by me tonight.
Number 1: private recital on the Upper East Side, New York - I really enjoyed playing in this relaxed yet sophisticated atmosphere, surrounded by friends, fellow musicians, hosted by my favorite New York family in their lovely home with their lovely Steinway. And I got through the whole recital without falling off the bench, which considering my current program, is quite a feat.
Words: Kelly at JFK, brownstone, Madison Ave, guest room, apples, blue tile, practice practice practice, wintry Central Park, Greek Parade, MSM, John Williams, lying in the park, Dean Noon, scheduling office, Celeste, tagliatelle with cabbage, tea and Sara, cake at Mozart, former roommates, old friends, a very surprised ex, grapes, wine, home-cooked dinner for me, Lincoln Center, buses and subways, noise, smells, honking, taxis, shades of gray, Hungarian Pastry Shop, croissants, cool cement steps, warm spring night, heady bouquets, falling in love with a city I hate in so many ways, feeling like a New Yorker again - and liking the feeling.
Then: California. Studio class at the university. Interview with the newspaper. Big article printed in Friday's paper. Playing for my old teachers. Not being able to swear while practicing because of family in the house. Eroica Trio at Saratoga in the most beautiful villa situated in the coastal hills. Shostakovich and wine with Sara, schmoozing at the reception, talking to the girls.
Number 2: recital yesterday, audience of 300, Steinway D, packed hall, three standing ovations (after Schumann, Wagner, and encore), best performance to date, didn't feel so great though, family members coming from various surrounding cities, flowers and exhaustion, tired hands today. Timed it - 2 hours with intermission and encore. Serious business.
Tomorrow: practice practice practice. Yoga. My back is crunched these days.
Soon: recitals, competition, travelling, seeing more people (including my COUSINS and Joe!), feeling lonely still, wanting to talk, to have a real conversation with a real person that I'm really connected to.
Hey, you're alive, you're ALIVE, and I love it, I love being alive, together, breathing, feeling a gaze tingling on my skin, breathe in the night air and just be, quietly, separate, at the same time, words or no words, talking or not talking, makes no difference.
Schumann is a galaxy.
Epic, he said.
Best Beethoven 109 I've ever heard, in my life, all 60 years of them as a pianist.
Hey, sit by me tonight.
01 April 2007
11 March 2007
04 March 2007
Harry Potter can act!
Yes kids, I was the lucky girl who took this photo just after seeing Daniel Radcliffe put in a TREMENDOUS performance as the tormented, violent main character Alan Strang in "Equus" on Friday night in London's West End.
(in the poster, his body turns into the head of a horse)
For anyone who is alarmed to hear that I saw nudity on a London stage, let me assure you that the artistic lighting, brilliant staging, and sheer intensity of this final scene rendered his nakedness as just that-- an integral, symbolic, physical metaphor for his vulnerability, sensitivity, fear, rage, and despair, and his ensuing horrific collision with nature.
This, my friends, was one of the finest performances I've ever seen. In anything. Ever.
(in the poster, his body turns into the head of a horse)
For anyone who is alarmed to hear that I saw nudity on a London stage, let me assure you that the artistic lighting, brilliant staging, and sheer intensity of this final scene rendered his nakedness as just that-- an integral, symbolic, physical metaphor for his vulnerability, sensitivity, fear, rage, and despair, and his ensuing horrific collision with nature.
This, my friends, was one of the finest performances I've ever seen. In anything. Ever.
03 February 2007
02 February 2007
24 December 2006
11 December 2006
Jump on the bandwagon, kids! Everyone's doing it!
That's right. Follow my lead and move to Berlin. Today I received emails from two friends, a Norwegian and a Californian, saying that Berlin is on the horizon. The Norwegian is a definite, in January, and the Californian...well, give her several months.
Finally, I lead the bandwagon. I drive the bandwagon. This is my band. Wagon. Piano. Whatever. VW? My dad drives a bug.
07 December 2006
29 October 2006
Cold weather? Or Turkish fashion?
Yesterday was very cold. Today isn't so bad. Germany is also on the same daylight savings as, apparently, the rest of the world, including my homeland. I didn't know this until 5 hours after I'd woken up this morning. Well!
As an Armenian, I do not condone the wearing of Turkish clothes. But I know you must all miss me terribly, so as not to deprive you any longer of my pictoral presence, here is a bit of nonsense:
As an Armenian, I do not condone the wearing of Turkish clothes. But I know you must all miss me terribly, so as not to deprive you any longer of my pictoral presence, here is a bit of nonsense:
27 September 2006
22 September 2006
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