Valdivia
It is a perfect morning and my little suitcase seemed to pack itself. It has been two amazing days in Valdivia, arriving on Valentine's Day, going straight to the press conference in the Dreams Hotel, then soundcheck and concert in the Teatro Municipal Lord Cochran, to begin La Semana Valdivia in this high summer holiday destination spot, as charming as any river town in Maine or Cape Cod.
Subhira invited me to play here. I met him almost twenty years ago when he came to California and we have talked about doing a concert here since then. This South American trip has been long overdue!
The piano was a Yamaha, like an old friend, and I played with all the enjoyment and savoring of a final concert. Afterwards, standing in the lobby and greeting the audience, i noticed a big poster of Roberto Bravo, a celebrated Chilean pianist and personality whose manager, Yolanda Andrade, I had met in Frutillar at my first Chilean concert, and so I decided to stay one more night here ......and I'm so glad I did!
Roberto is a Chilean treasure and I especially loved the music he played after reciting poems by Pablo Neruda. Even though Spanish is still not fluent for me, one just cannot miss the directness and passion of Neruda's love poems. He claims one's soul the way explorers claimed a new land.
So today I will join Subhira and the other musicians from his group in Pucon, a place I've wanted to see ever since I saw a photo of it on Subhira's poster so many years ago. A few days of vacation and then back to San Francisco, back to where the moon grows from right to left and not left to right, back to the sister America that is just a bit older than this one but sharing all the same European DNA and legacy of fights for independence and dubious conquerings of indigenous peoples. It is a mirror image and carries with it the shimmering light of a spiritual reflection.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Montevideo
Montevideo
I am writing only now, at the airport lounge waiting to go to Santiago and then Valdivia for the final concert tomorrow night, Valentine's Day. The concert here Friday night was great. Somehow, even though I had not slept well since Monday due to nocturnal Mardi Gras festivities and 7:00 AM construction starts outside my window at the Plaza Fuerte, I had amazing energy. I was joined by a Uruguayan cellist, Lucreta Balsaldua, who nailed Sargasso Sea with precision and passion. I am totally inspired to write more music for her. And Viviana Guzman was on fire...I think we played together our best ever. I wish we had recorded some of this, but, alas, I never remember to do that and it all goes into the ether.
Juan Carlos, my probably most avid fan on this earth, produced the concert with great heart if not with great experience. It is so difficult to mastermind a concert, not just the technical production, but all the necessary promotion. We did the rounds of radio stations and I saw my picture in the paper every day, sometimes with lengthy articles that I have not read yet. I am always shy about reading anything written about me because when there are inaccuracies, it is just too late to do anything about it and I would rather just trust.
We are boarding now. Back to Chile. But in many ways I have left my heart in Montevideo.
I am writing only now, at the airport lounge waiting to go to Santiago and then Valdivia for the final concert tomorrow night, Valentine's Day. The concert here Friday night was great. Somehow, even though I had not slept well since Monday due to nocturnal Mardi Gras festivities and 7:00 AM construction starts outside my window at the Plaza Fuerte, I had amazing energy. I was joined by a Uruguayan cellist, Lucreta Balsaldua, who nailed Sargasso Sea with precision and passion. I am totally inspired to write more music for her. And Viviana Guzman was on fire...I think we played together our best ever. I wish we had recorded some of this, but, alas, I never remember to do that and it all goes into the ether.
Juan Carlos, my probably most avid fan on this earth, produced the concert with great heart if not with great experience. It is so difficult to mastermind a concert, not just the technical production, but all the necessary promotion. We did the rounds of radio stations and I saw my picture in the paper every day, sometimes with lengthy articles that I have not read yet. I am always shy about reading anything written about me because when there are inaccuracies, it is just too late to do anything about it and I would rather just trust.
We are boarding now. Back to Chile. But in many ways I have left my heart in Montevideo.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Mendoza Concert
It's 2:30 in the morning and the concert is over and my bags are packed. What an amazing night. Sold out, with standing room only tickets sold out, too. And lines of people turned away. All the months of preparation that went into this event, the publicity - posters, radio, television, press - everything Julio and Gabriela accomplished.
I have to come back here- it is too sad to think about all the people I've met, Julio's children, little Victoria who gave me a rubber bracelet of a seahorse and a tennis racquet, little Franco with a smile that could enchant a stone, Paula, a woman in the making, and the wonderful friends at the dinner the night before the concert, Fernanda, Silvania, Fabbio, Raoul ......
The warmth of the audience after the concert was stunning, really. I guess that is what it is all about..we shared something very special.
I have to come back here- it is too sad to think about all the people I've met, Julio's children, little Victoria who gave me a rubber bracelet of a seahorse and a tennis racquet, little Franco with a smile that could enchant a stone, Paula, a woman in the making, and the wonderful friends at the dinner the night before the concert, Fernanda, Silvania, Fabbio, Raoul ......
The warmth of the audience after the concert was stunning, really. I guess that is what it is all about..we shared something very special.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Update from Mendoza, Argentina
I see now that blogging is not unchallenging. When there is no wi-fi the process can get stifled!
So, here I am, already 6 days later and, not having checked in, forget most of what has happened.
Today I went down for breakfast and low and behold saw a newspaper with a front cover interview, complete with multiple color photos, that Julio Mazziotti and I did yesterday at "UNO," a media empire here that also presented us on a live TV show yesterday morning. That was how we started the day. Then we continued our promotional blitz doing a few radio interviews in which I actually spoke Spanish somehow. I hope it was at least charming if not accurate.
And our poster is all over the place- at every bus stop and newspaper stand!
Then we went on to a press conference filled with government cultural representatives from both Mendoza and Italy, which is also sponsoring the concert. I am always amazed at the turnout in foreign countries for the press. And how informed the questions always are. There is a real respect for the arts that I have rarely (never) experienced in the USA.
Last night we went to the theater and tried out the piano. It is a brand new Steinway and quite stiff. I think I will have to cut my nails even more so that I can apply lots of deep contact to this green instrument. The theater is a jewel, with tiers of private boxes and lots of gold and velvet. It reminded me a little of La Fenice in Venice, but not as ornamented.
Today, we went to a Mendozan winery and I was impressed by the size of the oak barrels- holding 50,000 liters if I recall correctly. The white wine was quite good, with a smokey flavor that seems to characterize all the wines I've tried here. I couldn't sample the Malbec because I am allergic to reds, but I was not impressed with the bouquet.
I have to be careful here not to praise Chilean wines, because there are hostile relations between Argentinians and Chileans. They never express this antagonism directly in speech, but once I figured it out by noticing consistently non-emotive reactions to any of my enthusiasms for Chile, I learned to forget that Chile exists for the time being.
So, here I am, already 6 days later and, not having checked in, forget most of what has happened.
Today I went down for breakfast and low and behold saw a newspaper with a front cover interview, complete with multiple color photos, that Julio Mazziotti and I did yesterday at "UNO," a media empire here that also presented us on a live TV show yesterday morning. That was how we started the day. Then we continued our promotional blitz doing a few radio interviews in which I actually spoke Spanish somehow. I hope it was at least charming if not accurate.
Then we went on to a press conference filled with government cultural representatives from both Mendoza and Italy, which is also sponsoring the concert. I am always amazed at the turnout in foreign countries for the press. And how informed the questions always are. There is a real respect for the arts that I have rarely (never) experienced in the USA.
Last night we went to the theater and tried out the piano. It is a brand new Steinway and quite stiff. I think I will have to cut my nails even more so that I can apply lots of deep contact to this green instrument. The theater is a jewel, with tiers of private boxes and lots of gold and velvet. It reminded me a little of La Fenice in Venice, but not as ornamented.
Today, we went to a Mendozan winery and I was impressed by the size of the oak barrels- holding 50,000 liters if I recall correctly. The white wine was quite good, with a smokey flavor that seems to characterize all the wines I've tried here. I couldn't sample the Malbec because I am allergic to reds, but I was not impressed with the bouquet.
I have to be careful here not to praise Chilean wines, because there are hostile relations between Argentinians and Chileans. They never express this antagonism directly in speech, but once I figured it out by noticing consistently non-emotive reactions to any of my enthusiasms for Chile, I learned to forget that Chile exists for the time being.
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