Frutillar Chile

Blog continued.

Frutillar Chile
Out of my window in the Victorian hotel near the theater, I see the glacier across the lake, looking like a version of Mt. Fuji. What I notice the most about this place is the pure sweet smell of the air. I just want to breathe in. The plants all look like they're on steroids.

Today we rehearsed. Mahani, the Chilean pianist who lives now in Berlin, played with Viviana first, then I warmed up in someone's private home on a Blutner piano. And then, after lunch, we all went over to the theater to play in the concert venue. It is not a huge theater, but couldn't be more exquisite, with a view of the lake and the volcanic mountain framed by floor to ceiling windows behind the stage. I think it was Mallorca where there was a similar theater.

I did a brief interview with a Santiago reporter who clearly hates anything associated with "new age.". Oh my. The classical snobism again. They can be pleased only by dissonance and complexity, both of which are way too easy to achieve.

Oh well.

This morning I took a great walk on the beach with a big golden dog, not sure what kind.
He came up to me with a stick and laid it at my feet. I picked it up and threw it. He chased it and brought it back. We did that for an hour, traveling along the shore heading away from town. At the far end of our walk, I was finally overwhelmed with the random deposits of plastic trash and picked up a plastic bag and started loading it with plastic wrappers, plastic bottles, plastic this and that, hoping that at least this stuff wouldn't find it's way into the gullet of a bird or fish. Fido was patient until we returned towards town and dumped the huge load into a virgin trash receptacle. It was completely empty, either from being unused or assiduously emptied.

There is music everyplace in this town. Right now I hear a violin outside the window.
It is a culture fest. Lovely.

Saturday

I'm waiting in my dressing room to go onstage. All is well, but I forgot my jewelry and there is nothing to eat here except chocolate. Chocolate will do the trick. I need energy to perform and it is lunchtime now.

The theater is magnificent and new. From what I understand with my limited Spanish, this building was built last year only, though the festival, La Semanas Musicales de Frutillar, has been going on for over forty years here.

I guess I'll rest a bit.

One hour later
The stage manager just came in and twenty minutes. It's like waiting for a sentence. It's at times like this that I wonder why I do this. One goes from total isolation and stillness to burst upon the stage with nuclear energy. And then it's over after 45 minutes. There's no way around it but through it. I wish I could be eating a big sandwich right now. My hands are cold and the water won't get hot to warm them. The makeup lights are really hot, so I can hold my hands nearby. I'll go do that now.

After the concert

Oh my. What a whirlwind. My CDs sold out in 5 seconds. I brought only 50 here so I would have some for other concerts. The problem is that on the little airlines one has to pay a huge premium for extra weight, which is absurd, because I weighed half what the man beside me weighed. Just a way for Sky Airlines, this time - it was EasyJet in Italy- to justify scraping up a bit more cash.

Anyway, it was so so beautiful, the concert and eventually I will have some photos from the official photographers who promised they would send some.

Now we are off to Santiago.