Today I was about to share a piece of music when I heard – being completely taken by surprise – that my piano professor has died. I want – I need – to write a couple of lines.
First I want to share the 3rd part of the Vivaldi Concerto in E minor for bassoon and strings, RV 484. I will do it differently, not as a YouTube link but directly from my cloud at:
You can listen and even download the piece. A suggestion would be to listen to it in the background while reading the rest of this blogpost.
Second, some words about me (it is always about me and my narcissism). I belong to a family with traditional values (a rara avis nowadays) and we do have a grand piano in my grandparent’s house. I started private lessons of piano when I was around 8 years old. Then, since my professor judged that I had talent for music, I attended for 3 years the music high school in Galati. However, in the end, I didn’t pursue a career in music, turning to medicine instead. Music has been with me since my early age and it will accompany me into death. A large portion of this blog is and will be dedicated to music of any kind. However, it is not only passive music listening as a hobby; I did played piano practically my entire life. My understanding of music is therefore different from the one of someone who never played an instrument.
Third, I want to leave here the name of my piano professor: Dinu Mihăilescu. His death wasn’t noticed by the local newspapers as far as I read online, despite the fact that he was at some point the director of the Cuclin music high school. I don’t want to let his passage be totally anonymous. The newsfeed is full of people who did significantly less for humanity in general, so I am defending his memory right here and right now. He was a complex person and a man who knew how to bear pain and limitations. He was a conscientious man and he tried and did his best. He had a lot of patience. And he was frank and did tell me when I was wrong without being abusive or sadistic, which is a noteworthy exception. What I personally feel about him, his life and his legacy will remain unspoken and unwritten…
Finally, when dealing with ways of communication, I need to emphasize that the written & spoken languages aren’t the only ways to convey information. They are good for exchanging rational stuff, but there are also emotional languages, designed for emotional stuff. Art that is. Some of us speak music, others speak painting, others speak dance, sculpture, etc. Music is, in my opinion, very close to the structure of a language, and therefore easier to be spoken. It has symbols universally understood, it can express most feelings and is much more convincing than words in some aspects. But one requires training and a decent amount of subtlety to decode music and understand it at several levels.
Since I first learned to write a resume, I always added somewhere, almost invisibly, the fact that I play piano and I speak music. In a society focused on different values, music speaking amounts to nothing. It has no utility. If you’re not a musician, speaking music can’t be translated into money. But if you believe in the necessity of individuation, if you aim to develop harmoniously as a human being, being fluent in words is only half of what you can be or become. It’s always about what you choose to do with yourself during this lifetime. And my piano professor was the one who opened for me and together with me a world I cannot write you about, but which I invite you to experience and perhaps enjoy at some point during your lifetime.