Although it's been a while since my last post, the days between then and now don't appear worthy of comment in comparison to today's events.
The day began early--although I've been waking up at 6:00 each morning at my body's unexpected demand--with a brunch at the Yale Club. Walter and Amanda, the most infamous of my friends, invited me to come along with them for this semi-monthly experience that Amanda's step-father treats them to. It was, as to be expected, the quintessence of my impressions of the Ivy League. Large ornate chandeliers rose above us in the entryway; fine intricate rugs covered the cold marble and ushered one's feet up the impressive staircase; a library and adjoining reading room created an aroma of old brittle paper and supple leather that was tangible even from the elevator; the twenty-second floor of this building--yes, the Ivy League can afford twenty-two floors of Midtown real-estate--housed the rooftop restaurant and veranda. We found our seats and enjoyed a very nice brunch of smoked salmon, hand-made omelets, fresh fruit and berries, authentic Greek yogurt, etc. Meanwhile, I met two very nice Long Islanders who, in my mind, couldn't resemble Jerry Seinfeld's parents more--Morty and...?
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Today was NYC's gay pride parade. This event, I am told, is extravagant left to its own devices. However, perhaps not so coincidentally, New York, this past week, became the sixth state of the Union to allow same-sex marriage. The frenzy found on this small, crowded island was unprecedented today. Thankfully--although it would have been fun to join the celebration in what I'm sure was a high-spirited crowd (appropriate diction, no?)--we found our way across town from the Yale Club to our west-side train stations without too much trouble. It was later, when I traveled back downtown to meet a friend for a concert that I was caught in the storm. An entire nation of half-naked--half is even a modest description--had descended on the Village, and like battalions in formation, a rainbow flag hoisted above the mass often led them from one party epicenter to the next. Despite some of the most extreme flamboyance my eyes have seen, it was an awe-inspiring sight of a group of wonderful people in true celebration. My heart goes out to all these frustrated people who have gained their right to live and love as they please.
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The best is yet to come, though. I arrived at Le Poisson Rouge--a nightclub and bar near NYU in the Village--and met my friend Tomoko who had gone ahead of me and sequestered some good seats for the piano concert there. A young man, Kirill Gerstein, was to perform the Brahms/Paganini Variations (Books I & II), a commissioned Knussen piece, and the Liszt B minor Sonata. A program such as that piqued my interest before I knew anything else. Years ago, Gerstein won the Rubinstein competition and more recently the Gilmore competition. I had arrived about an hour early, thinking I would socialize and have a few drinks before the concert--which was to take place in more of a nightclub soiree setting. I sat at the table with Tomoko and a handful of other inauspicious older people. I quickly introduced myself to the people around me, the artistic director of the Jupiter Symphony and his wife, Solomon Mikowsky and his wife (ahh!), and finally the lovely Eva Rubinstein, the daughter of Arthur Rubinstein. For those outside of pianism, Arthur Rubinstein is widely regarded as one of the best pianists of the 20th century, the golden age of piano. I have admired his playing ever since my introduction to it, and as my studies have progressed, come to appreciate his amazing sensitivity and command over the instrument more. It was truly a blessing to meet, share a meal, and converse--albeit briefly--with his daughter. Pleasantly surprising, she was more interested in the lives and activities of those around her than recounting the experiences she had with her renown father. She was curious to hear about my northern-Minnesotan history and my future plans regarding piano. After the concert, which featured some of the most amazing, powerful and poignant music-making I've heard, she shook my hand and warmly said goodbye as Tomoko and I left. It was an amazing experience to have met the daughter of such an influential figure to my field; it was an experience, like so many others to come, that New York has decided to bring me!
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