合い言葉GG
by mhara21
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☆マサコのプロフィール
13才のときにグレン・グールドのピアノに 出会う。以来抱き続けたグールドに会うという夢を追って28才でカナダへ。後追い日記はその記録である。
属性はシャーマン。


☆ミクシに習って、ぬさんからの紹介状
不在の幻影から愛するひとを救い出し、グーグルキャッシュの中に愛のエクリチュールを刻印しつづける、GGの恋人。二人はもう触れあうことができないが故に永遠に惹き付けあうことができる、まるで恒星と惑星の関係のような、あらゆる恋人が夢見るユートピアに住むひとです。


☆このブログの本拠地は
 海峡web版  です。

グールド、並びにグールド家からのプレゼントはこちら。

 グールドのサイン入りレコード
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Diary Entry 1981-26 : Immigration Part 2

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.
b0071688_12474133.jpg


#Immigration Part 2

The 1st of October was the Immigration day. An immigration officer would come out from one of their small offices into the waiting room to personally call the name of the next person in line.
One of them in particular caught my eye, and I was so happy he was the one who called my name when my turn came. I heard it was easier to deal with male than female officers, but I didn’t even dream how easy it would be.
Though I didn’t speak after entering the room, he just said, “Did you like it here during these 8 months?” and placed a visa stamp until the 15th of May 1982 in my passport. How generous he was!

I learned later that the Immigration kept records from the first time we register there, so I guess he thought my previous record good.

From the Immigration centre I spring straight to a department store. I bought a down coat made in China, for winter season. I also bought deerskin gloves fro no less than 26 dollars. I am a silly person who expresses both her joy and sadness through shopping.
I felt so happy I went around the town dressed in my new down coat. Nobody stared at me, not even when I rode on the streetcar. Foreigners normally gaze directly at people’s eyes or faces, but when someone acts differently or strange, few are those who show curiosity towards such person.



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[PR]
# by mhara21 | 2017-12-10 00:00 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-25 : This and That of Toronto

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.
b0071688_12454348.jpg



#This and That of Toronto

There was only one school class in the program of Hansa Language Centre.
I miss my classmate Marseille, who was then a live-in babysitter in North York.
I yearned for marriage, but her words would discourage me. “The kid who always sleeps with me is very cute. But, being a mother is a really terrible job,” she’d say.

In a beautiful building close to Hansa was the Metropolitan Library designed by Raymond Moriyama.
On the 2nd floor of the library I could find and listen to some good old records.

b0071688_12442024.jpg
I could go anywhere by myself in Toronto, to the zoo, the Science Centre, Ontario Place.

Once, I was looking in fascination at a horse in the Horse Palace when I heard a gentle voice, “It’s all right,” coming from above. I raised my head and saw that, of course, there was someone on the horse. I was so completely absorbed by the horse that I never noticed there was a human sitting up there.

b0071688_12444855.jpg

I could drink tap water in Toronto. It was cool and tasty.
I would boil two bundles of somen noodles and when I would rinse them in water they would look like a white kimono being washed in the river.
Vegetables in Toronto had a bit strong alkaline taste, but both vegetables and fruits were available in abundance.

When we live alone we spend time taking care of our own needs. On the other hand, it’s a lot of work to make proper meals three times a day.

The kitchen of the house I lived in was on the north side, facing west. The back garden was wide, and on the other side there was a shed that looked like a tiny house. I often used the stairs by the kitchen that led outside because they were close to my room.
There was a storage pocket under the stairs, but mice appeared and ate away the precious Japanese food I stored there. At another lodging, mice destroyed some of my clothes.
It seems that mouse infestation was a common occurrence in old houses. Although I was living in an urban area, I was able to experience and enjoy in those houses a lifestyle similar to that in the countryside.

In September, in order to deal with my allergies, I reduced the piano practicing time and tried to focus my attention to other things. As a result, I practiced only nine days, with the average practice time of 21 minutes per day. One of my allergy symptoms was what you call “rash” in English. This was one of medical terms I had no chance to learn through my radio language course.

This quite life of mine unfortunately went topsy-turvy when the kitchen remodelling started. I couldn’t make any food there for days, and the house got dirty with all the ancient dust and grime.



b0071688_12460140.jpg
↑A photo of the current Metropolitan Toronto Library.


Translated by Saiko





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# by mhara21 | 2017-11-30 00:00 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-24 : My Diary

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.

#My Diary August 30th

Gould’s father’s name was written in one book I borrowed from Francis – Russell Herbert. I looked up his address in the phone book, and went in search of his house.

I was surprised when I realised that the view of the bus terminal for city and intercity buses that linked directly to Eglinton Subway Station looked exactly like a photo from a book my father bought for me when I was a child.

b0071688_12412390.jpg
(“Cultural Map of the World”, from Canada, Mexico and Cuba, June 1966, Kōdansha Ltd.)

There was a whole book collection, and it introduced lifestyles and histories of people from different countries. Through these books I travelled the world. I learned that lily bulbs were exported from Okinoerabujima, a Japanese island famous for its lilies, as “Easter Lilies”. There was also a photo of a dining room with a young couple. With their heads pressed together they were looking intently at the dinner menu. Under the photo was an explanation, “In restaurants with paper napkins, even these two young people can eat without worrying about their bill.”

An Oriental country bumpkin like me believed that a blond beauty in a reddish-brown suit would of course be wealthy. From this explanation I could sense for the first time the reality of people’s lives in foreign countries.

It was a “Cultural Map of the World” that never even mentioned Gould and that left me unsatisfied. This was also why I pushed myself all the way to Canada.

I took a bus towards east from Eglinton station and went down a slope with marvellous scenery. The bus made a turn in front of a hotel where Gould had his studio and then it continued straight. I got off the bus holding a map in one hand, and immediately found 61 Norden Crescent.

It takes Glen’s father ten minutes by car from here to his son’s workplace. I guess even when apart from his son Gould’s father wants to keep an eye on his son’s work. That may be the reason why he got a house close to his son’s workplace even after remarrying.

I didn’t have courage to ring the bell. I stood there staring at the entrance of the house until a neighbour came asking, “Do you need something?”
I wanted to tell her, “I envy you for living so close to Gould’s father.”

Feeling that was not the place for the incompetents like me, I returned to my lodgings with a bitter taste of failure in my mouth.




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# by mhara21 | 2017-11-29 11:58 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-23 : LanguageTraining Programs for Immigrants

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.
b0071688_12401995.jpg
#LanguageTraining Programs for Immigrants

August passes with me drinking medicines and going tothe doctor.

Since I can’t play the piano, I adjust my schedule so Ican attend evening English languageclasses for immigrants that are taking place in a highschool building.
“Please come on time and enter the class.”

I went there as I was told and entered the firstclassroom where a lesson was starting. The teacher was an Indian, and she asked me to be thefacilitator for the class.

After the lesson two persons from Yugoslavia approachme, a brother with his younger sister. “There is a person in my country who isthe spitting image of you,” the sister remarks. “It is really true what they say,that each of us has two other people around the world who look just alike. Theirhairstyle, the chin, the teeth, everything is exactly the same. Even theirvoice and the way of speaking are similar.”
Her brother eagerly nodded his head.

Toronto is simplymarvelous. Since there are more Japanese tourists traveling in Vancouver thanin Toronto, they take strict measures to prevent the travelers from usingprograms for immigrants.
However, when I reached advancedcourse in English program for immigrants in Toronto my teacher just asked me,“Welcome to Toronto. How long have you been living here?”

The brother and sister from Yugoslavia were also justtraveling in Toronto during summer. I later followed the news about theYugoslav civil war with hopes that both of them were safe.
 
During the day I go to the doctor or I sleep. When I canpractice a little I play the piano, and then I have dinner at home.
Around 7 o’clock I am in astreetcar, gazingat the bright Lake Ontario until I reachDundas West station. I transfer to the subway and when I reach Christie stationI walk towards the high school building. Even this simple life isfilled with happiness in Toronto.

There is a type of people – type A – who feels shock upon arriving to a newcountry and starting living there. If possible, they seek to return to theirhome country. Another type – type B – adjusts comfortably to their newsurrounding, but after several years they experience another kind of culturalshock from the type A people. The confusion that the type B faces is severeindeed. I belong to the type B.

Between July 28th and August 28th Iwas able to play the piano 19 out of 32 days. I played in average 43 minutes perpractice. The days I could play the piano had always been precious to me.
However, due to my health problems there were days whenI couldn’t play for more than 15 minutes. When I’d put together 30 minutes ofpractice, I would mark it as a circle in a chart I’d prepared. When I managed onlya 15-minute practice, I would mark it as a half-filled circle in the chart.
I loved making these charts, hanging them on the wall,and then filling it outwith circles as I played.

Translated by Saiko


Previous page : 1981-22 : Allergies



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# by mhara21 | 2017-11-21 18:40 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-22 : Allergies

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.
b0071688_12332881.jpg
#Allergies

The room where I practiced the piano was in a wide chapel decorated with stained glass. The room was a bit scary because the light there was dim and I felt as if ghosts were looming in shadows.
On third day of my piano practice I got an allergy attack. When I’d turn my face just a bit down I would start feeling painful tingles. Whenever I decide to do something, immediately problems like this begin.

When I was in elementary school, for each day at school, I would have to rest one day at home. On rare occasions when I’d go to school for two days in a row, I would have to rest for three days. My physical strength today is the same as then.
In junior high, when I would go to school for three days in a row, I would end up with different hives during the day and during the night, and I couldn’t sleep even at night.
One spiritualist interpreted my symptoms saying, “This is happening because your ancestors’ graves are covered with weeds,” but our ancestors graves should be clean now.

Now this, in spite of all the efforts to make my practicing possible…
When I went to sleep in my room alone I remembered a seat cushion my mum made for me. She’d unsewn a grey serge skirt, and made it into a big square piece of cloth and eight small rectangular pieces. At the corners of the seat cushion she’d embroidered dandelions, violets and a tulip She’d made the tulip in two colours and she used a deep yellow for the central part of the violet flowers. The dandelions had a lovely design, and they looked like fluffy woollen clouds about to float away. At the remaining corner my mum embroidered her own imaginary flower.
Incorporating colours and talent, courage and sweetness in the design, she portrayed my life with a road of flowers in a vivid and deeply emotional way.

She stitched the pieces of cloth together using the lace she crocheted out of a thick red embroidery thread. This was a seat cushion for school use, and it attended many classes in school instead of me.
Sometimes my classmates would complain, “Ms Hara, your seat cushion is always falling down when we move your chair or desk during cleaning. And then somebody always has to pick it up and put it on your chair.”
The classmate living closest to me would wrap in a piece of straw paper the bread and margarine from our school lunch and bring it to me at home.
My seat cushion was like a children’s storybook. The value it represented was “self-respect and dignity”.
As if it spoke to me, “Your body may be weak but you will survive, so be proud of yourself.”

The smell of my mother had reminded me of a heliotrope. She had been very mischievous. She would call Gould by pet names like “Gureguru-chan” or “Guruchichi”, saying it was “cute” and that she was “getting proficient” in giving him nicknames, as if he were her schoolmate.

Nobody could consider my mother vulgar or common. She had had such grace, like the fragrance of wintersweet flower that carried through a paper sliding door of a convent. She’d loved flowers. She’d grown all kinds of flowering plants, from small tulip bulbs that wouldn’t normally bloom to plants with flowers as small as the tip of the pinkie finger. Even after her death, tulips would bloom in our garden all on their own and in the most unexpected places.
They were tulips in their original, small size. Her voice had resembled a duet of a skylark and a nightingale in the early spring. Compare to a fruit, she had been like a creamy, skin pink “peach”, gentle and soft, yet firm of core.

Our mother’s dream had been to raise her children into persons as independent as frankincense. When we, her daughters, learned half a year before her death that our mother was going to die of cancer, we joked gloomily, “She’s just bought her glasses and had her teeth fixed, and now we won’t be able to recover the cost.”

Saying that, “We can make other people happy when we are able to do work around the house,” she taught me how to cook.
On the days when I was not able to go to school due to hypotension of 50-60 mm Hg, she would send me out to do something for her in the evenings when I would finally become able to move. “You have to go out once during the day,” she would say.

My mother had wanted me to go out of the house at least once a day. She’d thought it was important for my mood to keep in touch with the outside world. She hadn’t wanted me to isolate myself in the narrow world of our household.
However, this would put me in uncomfortable situations with my classmates. I could feel their disapproval, “You didn’t come to school today because you were ill, and yet you are not home resting…” The teachers would also frown at me as if saying, “You look well enough…”

“You just don’t feel well enough to go to school during the day. However, when you feel even a bit better, it is good to do some work.”
These were my mother’s words of encouragement when I would get annoyed at the surprised reactions of my classmates and on some occasions my teachers when I would bump into them.


Two bags my mum made for me to carry to the church.
[two photos]

b0071688_12342760.jpg
b0071688_12363195.jpg


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# by mhara21 | 2017-11-13 20:18 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-21:The Church

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.
b0071688_12321848.png

#The Church

One day my landlady Mrs. Liang said, “Considering your love of the piano, you don’t really play often?”
“I haven’t been able to play properly since I was a child. Practicing the piano is not good for my body.”

“You do want to play, though, right? We have a piano teacher living in our street. She lives in a house across from the church. Go and ask her if she would land you her piano to practice.

When I looked for the house of the piano teacher my landlady told me about, I found there was a signboard hanging in front of it. When the teacher realised I hadn’t come to learn the piano but to borrow it for my practice she said, “I don’t lend my piano, but maybe people from the church across the street will lend it to you. I will give you their phone number.”

When I contacted the priest from that church he told me, “You should talk to the Bordons about that,” and he gave me the phone number of some other church members.
“I will tell them you called, but please come to our church service next Sunday.”

I found it magnificent that he didn’t say, “Come to the service to hear my own preaching/”

When I went to the church on Sunday a beautiful woman approached me as soon as she saw me, “Mako? I am Martha. This is the key to the church entrance. You can come and practice the piano any weekday during the daytime. I live in a street on the east side of Cowan Avenue. If you want we can walk together on our way back.”

Martha too had a big belly.
Since I came to Toronto I’d met 3 women who’d later become mothers of boy babies.

“My baby is due in August. What are you doing in Toronto?”
“Have you heard about Gould?”
“Of course.”
There I went into my usual talk.

I managed to find the piano, now I needed musical scores.
I started going through a phonebook, but with my pathetic office skills I always found it difficult to mange lists and indexes. Thinking I was probably calling a wrong department, I dialled some phone number of Toronto University. The woman who answered the phone was ultimately kind. While saying, “This is not a sheet music store…” she gave me the information about a specialist supplier of sheet music.

I can broadly divide people in two types – the kind and the bad-tempered ones. I can compare the lady from Toronto University with another experience I had. When I was going to Montreal I needed a contact number of the YMCA, but I couldn’t find it so I dialled the YWCA number I found on a pamphlet.

The woman who answered the phone got angry saying, “We are not information desk for YMCA.” She then continued bad-temperedly, “Imagine, calling the YWCA to ask the phone number of the YMCA!”

I went to buy the scores of Debussy’s “Suite bergamasque” I had repeatedly listened on Kiyoko Tanaka’s record. Tall narrow shops on Yonge Street reminded me of Kadoya sheet music shop in Japan.

So, on a very stormy day I went to that somewhat gloomy church. I started my piano practice on July 28th, precisely one year after my mum’s death.
 
The following day, July 29th, I watched live coverage of the royal wedding in London.
Translated by Saiko



Japanese version of this page・後追い日記81年21・教 会




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# by mhara21 | 2017-11-10 14:40 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

神戸紀行 上島珈琲

b0071688_16290433.png

さすがに図書館と買い物に行くのは疲れた。
昨日から「淀長祭」が開かれている新開地へと足を延ばす。
神戸の山々は、いつも美しい。
映画は始まっていたので諦めて、ぐるりを散歩し
上島珈琲に戻って、空いている奥のトイレ横の大テーブルに座る。

なんと、伯父が台北の家で最後に弾いたベートーヴェンのピアノソナタ
変ホ長調第3楽章のメヌエットとトリオがBGMで流れる。
天国の伯父が私を励ましているようだ。

こんな偶然があるのだろうか?
1、2、4楽章抜きで、あのメヌエットとトリオだけが流れる。。。
この曲は地味なので知る人も少ないことだろう。

世界の片隅で演奏された20代の死にゆく青年のピアノを、
ベートーヴェンも耳に止めてくださったことでしょう。


タバコ切れの女性が、私の近くでタバコに火を付け、一口吸うと、
慌ててトイレに消えて行く。

ここはトイレの番人席のようで、次々と男性ばかりがやって来る。
一人の使用時間がやたら長いせいか、とに手をかけては、
入れないとわかり、人が次々と消えていく。
朝顔だけの部屋があればいいのにとさすがに覗きはしなかったけど。

そこに70代と思われる蒋介石夫人宋美齢のようなご婦人が現れる。
まさしく大陸の美女。横には80代後半のようなご主人。
連れのカップルも中華ムード満載の4人組がランチメニューのご注文。

私はといえば、映画はやめて、そのぶんちょっぴり贅沢をして、
ブドウジュースを飲んで行く秋を惜しんだのであった。

 
  関連日記 ベートーヴェンPソナタ#18 E♭ op31-3  byマサコ
        http://kaikyou.exblog.jp/20252754/

   ①シュナーベル版
b0071688_16312002.jpeg
   ②トーヴィ版
b0071688_16322490.jpeg
   ③原典版
b0071688_16334207.png
この3つの楽譜のメヌエットの、11小節アップビートから8小節の部分を
比べて頂きたい。

最初のシュナーベル版には、CとFに♮(ナチュラル)がついているが、
二つ目のトーヴィ版にはどちらもない。
三つ目の原典版ではCには♮がなく、Fにはある。

果たしてこの差は何か??

私は、シュナーベルが楽譜の上でこのふたつの音、特にCの音を重要視して、
奏者の注意を引いたのだと思う。
この曲を弾いたことはないが、何度も歌っているときに、
この部分のハ音とへ音に特別な美しさがあることに気づいていた。

だからシュナーベルの楽譜を見たときにびっくりした。
まさにその場所にピアノには敢えて加える必要のない♮がついているのである。
このナチュラルは、他の記号で強調する方法がないので使った、と私は思う。

「この音に最高の注意を払って、フレーズの美しさを際立たせるように」
これがシュナーベルの指示だ。
改めて、シュナーベルの楽曲への鋭い理解、演奏者への配慮と教授法に
驚くばかりだ。

 「ピアノをどう弾いていいか、わからない時は、歌ってごらんなさい。
  そして歌った通りに弾けば、フレーズは美しく自然になるのよ」
 これは、昔、母からよく聞いた言葉。
 後にマリーナ先生からも同じことを教えられた。
 その通りである。

この曲からは、家族の慟哭が音楽を通して聴こえる。
ここには演奏している伯父の家族への思い、
そして悲報に触れる未来の家族の悲哀の心が表されている。

私はこの部分でいつも 祖母、伯母、 母の女性3人の痛烈な悲しみを感じる。

伯母からは、伯父亡き後、父親である石崎皆市郎が部屋の中で呻くように
「かずひこーっ」と呼ぶ声が聞こえたと聞いた。

2度繰り返されるこのフレーズの2度めの部分では、ハ音に♮はない。
その理由は、演奏者がコーダに向かって感情を抑えた死の準備をしているからだ。

b0071688_16342864.jpg
b0071688_16344514.jpg
おや、クレッシェンドは、最初と2度めでフォントの大きさが違っているぞ。
 (写真ではあまり違話ないけれど、音符と比較するとわかる)
これは死の手前の命の一瞬の輝きを表す。
そしてそこから徐々に最後に向かって息絶えていく。

恐るべしシュナーベル。
その演奏と校訂に感謝。



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# by mhara21 | 2017-10-23 16:35 | エッセイ | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-20 : The Goulds’ House

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.


b0071688_18031997.jpg
#The Goulds’ House

On July 26th I got a phone call from Robert Smith.
“We got a baby boy last week. We are so happy! Would you like come for a visit today?”

Francis gave birth 7 days ago and her mother Key came to stay for a while to help them out.

For me, just being in Gould’s house was pure happiness.
They grilled mutton in the backyard. We had our dinner on the completed terrace.
Robert worked briskly and efficiently. He went around preparing our meal, taking care of the baby and doing other stuff in the house.
We had the desert inside. They prepared an ice cream garnished with fresh peaches. It was a sophisticated desert typical for the Smiths family.

“After the war, many Europeans had a strong desire to go to a new country. We were among them. My husband and I couldn’t speak a word of English, and yet we came to Canada together with our four children. My husband went to different factories every day asking, “Do you have work for me?” Francis’ mother reminisced.

Francis and Robert made funny faces at Kay’s words, saying, “Oh, no, not that story again…”

“I read once that the Japanese were buying Gould’s records most.”
“At first he was not sufficiently acknowledged, so his records often went out of print. However, when in 1968 his recording of Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ with Stokowski as the conductor was released in Japan, he finally reached the first peak of his popularity among the Japanese.”

“Glenn was very close with his mother, and he thought his father should not marry again. So, when his father remarried their relationship went so sour that he even stopped having his customary Christmas dinner with his father. Although, Glenn said their lifestyles were so different he would end up not actually eating anything during those dinners anyway.”

I couldn’t help thinking that the only reason I could be in the Smith’s house and have this conversation with them was because Gould’s father remarried.
I told them about my experiences from the day of my arrival to Toronto until the day I came to Southwood.

“When I saw a baby buggy, I thought the Goulds moved from this house. When I saw a woman in a red shirt I thought she was Gould’s older sister.”
“That was Robert’s mother!”

Robert was very good in the art of conversation, and he flooded me with questions.
“How are marriages in Japan?”
“How is Japanese economy?”
As I was answering his questions in my faltering English, I noticed I had twisted up the tablecloth and pulled it to the left. Francis energetically put the twists back in order.

The three of them were very surprised when they heard I’d visited Caravan.
“You are very independent, Mako,” Robert said, his face bright.
“I travelled the world at Caravan!”
(We could visit pavilions of more than 50 different ethnic groups from around the world.)
“You are willing to get yourself actively involved in everything around you. We really hope you will get to meet Gould,” said Key supportively.
“Moreover, you’re the first Japanese without a camera we’ve ever seen!” she exclaimed good-humoredly and everyone laughed.
“Though the only reason you came here for is to meet Gould!” Key continued, and then offered with a smile, “I think Mako takes mental photos and stores them in her head.”
“But, what proof will you give to people that you have met Gould? Francis challenged

“I didn’t come to meet Gould so I could tell people about it.”
I was just a bumbling person who couldn’t do things other people did with ease. Having a camera was bothersome. Primarily, it was always in the way when I carried it around. As Key said, my head was heavy because it was crammed with stuff. I was a master of anxiety.

Francis carried down the new baby boy for his feeding. Robert took him in his arms first and lovingly crooned over him.
The picture of the older boy snuggling up to Francis who was breast-feeding the baby next to a flower stand looked like one of Vermeer’s masterpieces.

Whatever I saw, wherever I looked, the hum and the atmosphere of the life in the Goulds’ old home overlapped with what was in front of me. I wondered if Gould had been raised on breast milk.
The Goulds’ house was like a fairy-tale temple to the gods of music from Greek mythology. There were legends there like the ones we could find in music from Greek mythology, and a piano that belonged to a woman who gave birth to a musician whose piano was blessed by gods.
Gould’s mother’s Chickering piano was easy to play. It produced even sounds and had a keyboard that was neither too heavy nor too light.

“I am going upstairs. Do visit us again and play the piano for us.”
It seemed that the second owners of the Goulds’ house were people with plenty of happiness in their lives as well.

I went down the Southwood hill followed by the sound of cool breeze.
The glitter of peppermint fragrance from the leaves that Gould too used to see permeated my skin. If there were other sick people who had a dream to come to Canada, I would be praying for their dream to come true.

Neither pretty nor shapely heroine, good in neither English nor at piano, ended this day filled with several hours of marvelous scenarios and stage sets at a movie-like Southwood.



Previous page : 1981-19 : An Angel from the Netherlands
Next page : 1981-21 : The Church


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# by mhara21 | 2017-10-05 18:03 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

グレン・グールドの36回忌に寄せて

新グールドへのメール4

お元気ですか?
いつも見守って下さってありがとうございます。

1985年、あなたはもうこの世にいませんでした。
私は、ツァラトストラとの約束を叶えようと、
溌剌とトロントで学んでいました。

この秋はその年に起った日航機ジャンボ123便の事件のことで、
思うこと多く生活しています。
本年はグールドファンのネット仲間のこの事件に関する報告を
お供えしたいと思います。

  風化させてはならない日航123便事件

  
先月(9月)20日には、父の旧制高等学校の卒業アルバムが、
台湾と日本の架け橋第一人者の片倉佳史氏と共に台北へ行きました。
父はやっと、生まれ故郷「台湾」へ帰ることができました。
台湾を離れて70年。父の夢が叶いました。
b0071688_09252810.jpeg
この頃、人間の孤独とは
「本来、光の中に一心同体であるものが、
 肉体や個別の心を与えられたがために感じる本質的な淋しさではないか?」
と考えるようになりました。

人が人を求めるのも、本来、光の方を向きたいからかも知れません。

ではまた、来年まで。 再見‼︎ 

マサコ


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# by mhara21 | 2017-10-04 09:25 | グールドへのメール | Comments(0)

秋の三冊

a0019212_13054828.jpg
久しぶりで姉のところで暮らしている。
懐かしい本棚を調べて、三冊取り出して思い思いに拾って読む。

お気に入りは「ショパンのプレリュード集 作品28」。
       トーマス・ヒギンズ編、松前紀男訳。東海大学出版会
全楽譜、アナリーゼ、考察と論評という構成。
「考察と論評」には作曲家シューマン、リストの他、
作家や詩人のこの曲への思いや形容が書かれている。
中でもジョジュル・サンドとアンドレ・ジイドのは長く、
この曲についてのユニークなエピソードを語っている。

前奏曲愛好者へのお薦め本。

a0019212_13055179.jpg

「銀の匙」 中 勘助 作 岩波書店

ずいぶん前に求めた一冊だけのワイド版の本。

日々、日本語が剥離していく私にとって、
もう一度、夏目漱石が絶賛した文章と
子供が感じ取った古き日本時代の生活に触れておきたい。


a0019212_13055269.jpg
「響ある運動づくり」 村田久遺稿集

著者を直接知っているのと知らないのでは
その人の書いた文章を読む時、差が出る。
実際読者は、知らない人、会ったことのない人の作品に囲まれて生活する。
この本の著者の場合は1992年からお付き合いがあり、今も夫人とお話する。
彼の一生を、折々に綴った文章と説明で追っていく読者となる。

いつも日本は土壇場だったのだろう。
ただ誰もそれを感じずに今日も生きている。
今度の選挙、日本の未来が決まっているのなら、
いつの選挙だって、決まっていることだったろう。
日本人が急に変わることなどない。
日本人が重要と思わないもの、政治、社会、他者への関心。
その反対の人生を生きた方の記録。



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# by mhara21 | 2017-09-27 15:06 | エッセイ | Comments(0)