合い言葉GG
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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。


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後追い日記1987年6月10日 ・日記

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1987年6月10日 日 記

私は、チャールズ通りにあるトロント大学のアパートメントの、
一室から一室へと歩いていた。
ちょうど4時57分、その日がおけいこ日の5才3ヶ月の女の子の家に着いた。

私は、ティーチングは好きである。
伴奏の仕事、独奏の準備と全く同じ程。
下手な教授は人に迷惑がかかって恐ろしい気もするが、
子供とコミニケイトしていると感じる時、
子供が思いもかけない感性と成長を見せて、
何かが芽吹いていると知る時、うれしい。

学校で姉と待ち合わせ。
ロシア系ユダヤ人音楽団、トロント初登場の初舞台を見に行く。
ユダヤ人の中には、素晴らしい音楽家が多い。その秘密はどこに?
恩師マリーナ・グリガス女史もリガからのユダヤ人。
彼女の一番弟子、エリック・ジィヴィアンもユダヤ人。
この世にあまり住む所のなさそうな私も由駄也人だと感じている。

そういえば、こんな事があった。
ヤコブ・グリンガス氏と仕事をしていて、生徒さんに曲を弾いてあげる時、
二人で一緒に弾いた。
不意に私の心は幸せな気持ちで一杯になり、彼を見上げて微笑んでしまった。
弾いている間中、私の魂が彼にこう語っているのを聞いていた。

「お父さん、なんて私達は幸せなのでしょう。
 こんなに平和で美しい国に住めて、
 二人で楽器を合奏できるのはなんと喜ばしいことでしょう。
 誰も私たちをガス室に連れてゆく人間はおりません。」

私は彼の目を見つめて嬉しそうにしていて、あまりにも長いため、
グリンガス氏の頬は、赤くなったりピンクになったり、
そして白くもとに戻っていった。




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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-30 12:05 | 後追い日記87年 | Comments(1)

Diary Entry 1981-5 : The Fireplace and the Ōyama Couple

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

b0071688_11500942.jpg
↑The fireplace at the Oyama’s house

#The Fireplace

There were beautiful cherry trees (sakura) in Vancouver. Many of them were double-flowered. I personally prefer cherry trees bearing single blossoms.

The following day I went to a party that took place in the flurry of falling blossoms at Mr. Ōyama’s workplace at UBC (British Columbia University).


The firewood was burning brightly in the fireplace. It was glorious. The smell of the firewood was distinctly different from the smell of the flames and firewood I remembered from my childhood, when seven of us – us children, our parents and our grandma – had heated water for bath in a small hearth of our old Japanese house. The smell emanating from mixed logs of fir tree, Eucalyptus, and pine caressed warmly my face.

I went downtown and broke down a 100-dollar travel check. While at it, I also bought a paper tablecloth. I had already acquired a definite weakness for buying unnecessary things. I’ve sent it to Japan, and now a cute paper cloth with tulip pattern is slumbering as a “memento” in my desk.
 
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In a record shop I found a record sold to commemorate the 25th anniversary since Gould’s debut.
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The joint performance with E. Schwarzkopf and a rare sonata by Scarlatti is on this record. An actress is displayed on the record jacket for dramatic effect Gould is so good at. In a jest I have learned in Canada is typical for Gould, pictures of someone’s bad attempt to look like Nietzsche and a young lad dressed in black leather jumper are also shown.
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That was actually Gould in disguise, but I hadn’t noticed it for a long time. By the look of the fingers and hands in the photos, I finally managed to figure out that was Gould fooling around.
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#Mr. and Mrs. Ōyama

“I don’t like that man. Your brother also said he got irritated when he heard Gould.”
“Could you please stop bringing that up over and over again?”

Mr. Ōyama loved Nana Mouskouri’s “Season in the Sun”, and he was always listening to it. The two of us shared a tendency towards depression.

“This man will definitely commit suicide!”
I guess he’s talking about a person from the song.

I like poetry by Sylvia Plath. It’s easier for me to understand people wish for death.

One day, Mr. Ōyama took me for an airplane ride.
The Cessna is soaring up into the sky.
And yet, we could die if Mr. Ōyama who is piloting the plane would let go of the control system.
However, we arrived safely to the San Juan Island. I ate a delicious ice cream with natural vanilla flavour.

When we came back, his wife said, “I’ve been to that island many times over, but I’ve never eaten ice cream there.”
Her words made me feel as if I did something wrong.

The nature around Vancouver is, in a word, splendid. The Ōyamas live in Barnaby city east of Vancouver. Just walking around the neighbourhood of the house in Barnaby makes me feel as if I were in a natural park.
I went to Sears and to the supermarket, making first steps towards enjoying my life in Canada. At any rate, everything is big and wide – the shops, the nature.


Translated by Saiko   


Japanese version of this page・後追い日記81年5・暖炉&大山夫妻



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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-26 00:00 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-4 : The Ōyama Family

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

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#To Vancouver Via Seattle

While I am flying over the Pacific, several things from the past come to my mind.

− Thanks heaven I got well −

Even though my body is aching, my dream country Canada is right there ahead of me.
Mr. Ōyama who lives in Vancouver is meeting me at Seattle-Tacoma Airport.
After some shopping we are going by car towards the border.

We had a lot of fuss when we were entering Canada.
Since I had only a one-way ticket, an official of Chinese origin mistook me for someone who had the idea of overstaying in Canada.

“Why are you in Canada? Isn’t it strange you don’t have a return ticket.”

“Errr… I came to meet a pianist called Gould…”
I no longer feel cheerfulness that I felt while flying on the plane.

“Anyhow, you do understand you can’t come wandering to someone’s country trying to stay longer than you should, right?”

“Gould is an eccentric who doesn’t like meeting people. So, I don’t know how long I will be staying here.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.
Then, after being hotly railed and raged at, I finally got a three-month visa approved, until the end of June.

The car is going through foreign scenery. Everything is wide and leisurely. As I thought, it’s a place without stress. I have a chance to get better and more cheerful here.

The car stops in front of the kitchen entrance to the Ōyama residence. I climb up the stairs of the service entrance. The house is nicely painted. The backyard is wide too. Mr. Ōyama’s wife has been waiting for me, together with a five-year- and a three-year old sons and Mr. Ōyama’s mother.

Ōyama’s houseView from the backyard
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View from the side street
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The front garage behind the house
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Mr. Ōyama says, “Are you maybe just imagining your body is weak?”
I think to myself, “Voilà, here we go again!” I get really hurt when people say things like that. Mrs. Ōyama has no idea about my 20-year-long struggle with illness.

“Well, if you were sick, you wouldn’t be able to come to Canada, right?” Mrs. Oyama says.
(What will she come out with next?)

Mrs. Ōyama continued, “I thought you would be a person with bigger health problems.”
I gave her a mental reply, “I’m doing my best to barely survive!”

“We were all looking forward to your arrival!”
“Thank you.”

The guest room is on the ground floor (in a semi-basement). I could see the ground and plants of the front yard from a window that is situated up close to the ceiling.

The tulips in the neighbour’s front yard are in full bloom. When I visited the neighbour’s place, they had a lot of baby-grandchildren coming over to play.

When I told the neighbour, “I love taking care of children under two years,” he jokingly replied, “Is that so? I myself love taking care of girls over 15.” I think people here are good at making jokes.

“I am going to Toronto soon to meet a pianist called Gould. But I don’t really know if he will agree to meet me.”

“It’s okay. He must have never met a person like you. I admire you coming all the way here alone. You don’t look at all like someone who had been ill for a long time.”

Translated by Saiko  



Japanese version of this page ・後追い日記81年4 ・大山家



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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-25 11:32 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-3 : Narita Airport

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


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Narita AirportApril 1, 1981

#Thai Air

The boarding has started. I kicked out of the chair I’d been sitting in. The lightness of my body tells me I have no misgivings about what I’m doing.

The seats have small orchid patterns. I am glad I chose Thai airport. Of all the Asian countries, I think Thailand suits me best. Not that I’d ever visited Thailand before. Nor have I ever studied Thai language. When I bought a one-way ticket to Thai airport, the price at the time was almost 200,000 yen.

The lady next to me seems nice.
“This is my first travel abroad. Where do you live?” I ask her.
“I live in New York. I was just traveling in Thailand.”

“Did you buy Thai silk?”
“Yes, I bought some silk fabrics and scarves.”

“Have you ever heard about Glenn Gould?”
“Of course! He is a marvellous pianist, right?”

“I am on my way to meet him now. I want to play the piano with him.”
“Wow! I hope your wish comes true.”

“But I think he must have many sweethearts.”
“Common, you will surely be his number one.”


Eva, who had given me complacent smiles, married several years later and left New York. I received a letter from her from Ivory Coast saying, “I wish to know how your life will turn out.”

When I remember all those long years of illness without likelihood of healing, all the troubles I’d had with all kinds of doctors and healers, meaningless days of going to school. Since childhood people had called me names like “limp sluggard”, “overprotected child”, “spoiled child”.

When medical treatments showed no results, doctors and healers said I was “a goof who doesn’t want to get well”, “a girl who wants to avoid school”, that I was “feigning illness”.


My mum had felt responsibility for giving birth to a child of weak health, believing my problems to be caused by the stress she’d been under during her pregnancy with me, when she raged against her callous husband who’d had no care for his family. Whenever my body was in pain, she would nurse me throughout the night, with feelings of penitence and deep love.

My mother who felt about music world that, “There are many phoneys in this world that are considered the mainstream” had the same gut feeling about medical world as well. Learning a lot about the horridness of medicines, she had looked for family physicians whose objective was not profiteering.
I myself also refused to be submitted to cruel medical treatments in hospitals. Avoiding secondary damages from medical treatments enabled me – even though being sickly – to follow my destiny to Canada.

About the time when the life burden I had been bearing became increasingly heavy, I learned about Gould’s music. When I was 13 I saw his portrait photo on the music album of Bach’s Inventions and electrifying thrill went through me.

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Gould has rich features, looking like someone who can manage a number of different roles, from a dashing lad to an intellectual doctor. In the portrait photos from his youth, Gould looks like a first-class actor. They say every shot of Gould a photographer would make would be good as such, captivating naturally all his poses and gestures. One of the factors of his success was his ability to use to the maximum the attractiveness of his features in photographic images.


I believe the number of admirers and lovers of Gould’s music will increase in the 21st century as well.


Translated by Saiko  


Japanese version of this page ・後追い日記81年3 ・成田空港




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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-24 20:22 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

Diary Entry 1981-2 : To Vancouver !

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
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# To Vancouver!

I am finally breaking away from Japan. Japanese society is oppressive, and I haven’t been able to find my place in it. I don’t perceive myself as a “Japanese”. I have never managed to “become a member of society” in this country.

And now, “This useless garbage is leaving for Canada!”
I was born in 1952, and raised in Japan. As such, I can’t even imagine the chaos of war and government oppression that once pervaded my country.


In 1998, the number of truant elementary school children in Japan rose above a hundred thousand. I went to school until the 5th grade and then I stopped attending it. But I never had problems because of the lack of schooling. This is because I never had to write a CV for a job application or a family chart and personal history for a formal marriage interview, owing to the fact that I never had to worry whether I’d be able to provide food on my table.

Even though I’m 28, I am really like a small girl. When my life turned into the fight against illness, I made a habit of withdrawing into my own world. I’d lived without facing any of the real world’s hardships、 focusing solely on my own body.

When I was 22, I was taken to madness of loosing my sight and my hearing. I was in a world of darkness, in which my whole body had been benumbed and I constantly suffered from flatulence. In my despair I even considered suicide. On windy days or before rain, my body hurt so much I’d want to die. I asked myself if there was any good from me living in this world.

The world I live in is a special world between “this world” (sag) and “the next world” (navyug). My parents left me in care of a spiritualist once, and she told me then, “With so many spirits coming to you, you will never be able to lead a life free of suffering.”

Like Prince Chagum, I myself have an experience of turning into a pure spirit and flying to spirit world. I swear the person who led me the way was the very same “Zarathustra” of Nietzsche’s.

The misery of carrying the weight of not only the suffering of people of this world, but that of people of the next world too is expressed in music of Robert Schumann. That is why I love Schumann.


I am a synaesthete, like Vladimir Nabokov. Synaesthetes are people whose senses of sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste are jumbled together. Those with such ability often have extraordinary faculty of memory. What is characteristic for synaesthetes is that their perception of time is different from other people.

Nabokov, Rimbaud, Proust, Joyce, Scriabin and Richter were all synaesthetes. When a synaesthete hears a sound, they also feel colours, shapes, scents and tactile sensations. When they feel a sound, synaesthetes can express its colour.
“I don’t like the sound of Wilhelm Backhaus’ music because it is brown.”
“I dislike Claudio Arrau’s music because it feels hot.”
I personally am quite fascinated by G major. This is because I love the temperature of pastel colours, which is neither hot nor cold, and because I don’t like sounds that remind of thick colour.

I think Nietzsche – though I do love him – would not be able to understand me. That is why I envy Nijinsky (a ballet dancer) who claimed, “I trust Nietzsche can understand me.” However, I believe Nabokov could understand me.

I wonder if Gould will really be able to accept me. I wonder if the day will come in Canada when my longtime hopes get through to him.


I am thinking about my uncle who died in the Pacific War. There are those who have to die even though they don’t want to die. My uncle, who was a geologist, was good at piano. He played Beethoven’s sonatas the morning he went to the front. He was conscripted as a civilian in military employ. He died one year and four months later when, at midnight on the 1st of April 1945, the Awa Maru that was on its way back home to Japan was attacked and sunk by an American submarine off the coast of Taiwan. He was 28 years and six months old at the time.

Both my uncle and I were born in September in the Year of the Dragon. My uncle loved music, and he left that love in this world before dying. Honouring those feelings is one of the reasons why in Canada I want to stop wishing for death.
Without a doubt, our ancestors’ feelings sleep buried deeply in our hearts. I have felt my uncle’s love of music flowing in my blood.

I wonder what experiences are waiting for me in Canada. But I have no fears, because Glenn Gould will be there. It is common knowledge that if one’s fan turned into a bit of a stalker one can go about one’s business without much fear. I can only be an object of Gould’s dislike for being a nuisance, or he could come to receive me with some friendly feelings.

“There is no way Gould will agree to meet me. But in spite that, I have to go.”
It is sad to see that people who love exquisite things, most often end up leading trivial and mediocre lives.



Translated by Saiko  


Previous page : Prologue Departure

Japanese version of this page ・81年2・ヴァンクーヴァーへ 


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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-24 19:45 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

1983 (24), Marina’s Lessons

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
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Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.

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#Marina’s Lessons

I started my lessons with Marina on September 16. Since I didn’t have enough physical strength to choose the piano as my major in the second year, and I took singing as my main subject. That is why I had 30-minute piano lessons. I chose Bach’s Prelude and Fugue BWV 852 as a number to play for my exam.
Marina listened to me playing this number till the end, and because I could not play the 16th-note tuplets she said: “Go back to legato.”
I played legato with my stiff hands clinking. However, the sound was not smooth and it didn’t settle well.

“You cannot play legato? Or you don’t know how to play it?”
“I don’t know how to play it. Is there some easy way to practice legato?”
“Actually, there is,” Marina said.

Marina sat in front of the piano, counting from 1 to 4. She would raise her wrist in time with the counting, drop it on the count of 4, when she would press the next key, and then start counting 1, 2, 3, 4 again. That was an exercise to go through an octave by lifting and dropping just one finger.

Sitting in turns with Marina in front of the piano, I learned about the position of a hand and wrist when dropped and sounds produced at that moment, as well as the difference in sounds when striking with a key with a finger. I was to take good care to play close to chromatic keys. In the end, this is what she told me.

“Let’s play Chopin’s Prelude. Bring the scores next time. Don’t use other ways for practicing but mine. I will tell you now how to do it.”
“Why can’t I play legato?”
“Because of the tension in your elbows.”

This answer surprised me. Nobody explained this to me before.
We decided to put Bach aside until the tension in my elbows eased.
I would repeat this monotonous practice throughout the week.
From time to time I would get worried whether I were doing it right or not. Anyhow, I would practice every day for two hours, twenty minutes for each finger. I used my index finger, middle finger, and my ring finger.

The day of my next lesson.

Marina was frantically prodding and pulling my elbows. Elbows without any tension, when not pressing any key, should be just like a marionette when the threads are loose. They should be relaxed so that, even when an elbow is pulled, it can invariably go back to its original position.
It felt so good when Marina would pull my motionless elbows and shake my arms, like air was entering my arms. She taught me while sitting on my right, continuously with her arms around me, and my elbow often poked her in the chest. I can say it was more like a ballet then a piano lesson.

She chose no. 20 in C minor from Chopin Preludes, and told me to practice it with a maximum return of the wrist. I was strongly impressed by the fierce black sound of Marina’s music coming from the piano. Chopin’s music was not something that attracted me since childhood, but I learned the whole Prelude by ear.

I repeated the monotonous practice relentlessly throughout another week. I exerted myself to find the most appropriate line in my arm to let good energy flow while playing the piano. It always took me 2 hours of practice to be content with my work. When I realized that the problem I had is about to be solved, warm tears of relief fell from my eyes.

By the mid October I learned to legato playing of four Chopin preludes and I memorized the music scores.
Marina’s reaction to my progress was: “When a colleague of mine told me how much her new student managed to achieve in just one month, I couldn’t believe her. Now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I can believe it. Except of particularly difficult pieces, you can play most of them to perfection. What have you been doing till now? Have you practiced the piano at all? Ever?”
“Sorry,” I said, “I could not play much because I was ill.”



                                                               Tranlated by Saiko


Japanese version of this page ・マリーナのレッスン83年24 へ


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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-22 19:22 | 後追い日記83年 | Comments(0)

My Life with Glenn Gould-1981 # Prologue Departure

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b0071688_10532186.jpg

# Prologue Departure

“Mako, take care of yourself!”
“You properly finished with the dentist, right?” 
“Mako, that’s okay if you come back home before long.”

My brother and two sisters are standing at the bullet train platform, straining to keep happy faces. They have similar smiles, similar gesticulation. As I am waving frantically to them, I can see them through the train window disappearing to the right, like a flow of contact prints. I settle down at my seat and breathe a sigh of relief. Sitting roundly next to me is my sister who is three years older than me.

Protected and loved by my family. This was my everything – everything I, a 28-year old Masako, the author of this diary, had. I am leaving Japan, the country so comfortable to live in, and going to Canada where there is almost no one I know.

From time to time, soft pink appears like markers in the windows on our left and right.
“Mr. Gould, this is Japanese national flower!”
Someday, I would love to see cherry blossoms together with Gould. This has been my dream. I am very sad I will miss out on cherry blossoms this year.
 
My life hasn’t been easy. Many of my years have been filled with days without sleep because of fevers and acute pains in my body ever since convulsions started from undetermined cause when I was eight. In addition to convulsions, I’ve suffered from polyneuritis caused by the vitamin B1 deficiency and symptoms resembling cardiac rheumatism. I am not able to take baths because temperature differences bring about convulsions. My mum and I have spent enormous amount of time and money on doctors and medical treatments.

In this suffering of mine, I found strength and support in Gould’s music. And, even when I could virtually practice no piano, Bach Partitas played by Gould had been my whole world.

When I was 15, my mum’s piano teacher suggested, “Why don’t you try to play the Goldberg Variations?”
At the time, I decided I had to make contact with Gould in one way or another, and I concentrated extreme energy and strength into practicing that music pieces. However, what a shock it was when I lost the ability to play because – due to quack treatments I was subjected to – I would lose feeling in my arms and fingers soon after starting the practice.

I am waiting to board the plane at Narita airport. As the airport is basking in the sunset, spirits from the Goldberg Variations are accompanying me. I didn’t even notice that the melody of the Variations that I’d shut out from my heart is flowing around me.

The fragrance of Spanish jasmine was drifting around us like the joy of afternoon sunlight in anticipation of moonrise. Gould’s demonic performances match well the moment of twilight (the witching hour). I wonder if what Freud called “libido” is behind my need to go to Canada.
From chest and above, I feel like a pure girl, but it feels like completely different energy is working in my legs. I often kill boredom with recognizing bouts of smells that emanate from different parts of my body.
When it comes to scents, one of my favourite poets Takuji Ōte left many poems whose main theme is the special sense of smell. I wonder if there are other poets like Takuji Ōte who were relegated to obscurity.
Takuji Ōte had often smelled the scents on his hands, and for this he had been nicknamed “the Bear”.

But, sure enough, I hear that voice.
“Okay, come out. Get well and come to my country one day. This is Canadian nature, its autumn colours, its snow. Come to my country and see the flow of its white clouds. You can hear the Goldberg here. Come and waltz with me.”
I am going to meet Glenn Gould, the person whose piano had made me forget my illnesses.

This spring, Gould was planning to start re-recording of the Goldberg Variations. This second Goldberg turned for Gould and his fans into Gould’s parting words before his departure to afterlife.

                                                               Tranlated by Saiko



Japanese version of this page ・My lLife with Glenn Gould-1981年



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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-18 11:03 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)

1983 (12) New Teacher

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

b0071688_23414986.jpg

New Teacher

My landlady Eileen thought that my lack of appetite and generally depressed state was to be blamed on my piano teacher.
“Mako, I will pray to God to find you a good piano teacher.”

This time, I really have to find a good piano teacher. Based on my experience so far, I created my own conditions for a teacher.
No 1, it has to be a married woman
No 2, it has to be someone who has studied how to teach legato to their students.
There is no way I would give up these two conditions.

I consulted a professor at my school about some good piano teacher. He gave me a memo with “Marina TEL 7xx-27xx” written on it.
When I called, I first reached the teacher’s husband who is a violinist. He then passed the phone to a female person.

“I do not need a piano teacher. At the moment I am preparing for the Grade 10, but in my second year I will need a teacher” I rambled wildly.

I suddenly got anxious about speaking with an unfamiliar person. Mrs. Zhou, a Taiwanese immigrant and a friend of mine whose two sons were pianists, continually complained about me not having a piano teacher, insisting I needed one. So I boosted my courage and went ahead with this conversation.

At my initial “I don’t need a piano teacher” Marina Geringas started laughing really funny.
“Are you from Japan?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s meet once, first.”
Then we arranged to meet in front of the Studio 314.

I don’t find it hard to practice the piano on my own. I prefer playing on my own than playing in panicky haste before someone without understanding while my stiff muscle clink, and my heart grows smaller and smaller. However, in order to move to the next grade, I needed to find a piano teacher and report that to the school office. I had so many things on my mind and I was still very young at the time, and I stumbled around when I talked in a way that could often leave a person in bewilderment.

I was relieved to find that Marina was a person I’d seen before, thinking how pleasant she seemed.

“Why did you quit learning the piano with Pol?”
“We got from each other all we were able to get,” I said.

“Do you plan to take ARCT after the Grade 10?” she asked.*
“No. I’m playing the piano to enrich my soul. That is why I don’t have an intention to take that exam.”
“I understand. In that case, I will teach you.”

From her appearance, I felt her to be a very accomplished and knowledgeable person. Her voice was extremely gentle, and she spoke grammatically correct English.

She was also honorable and had gone through a lot in her life. I told her my story about Gould, about how much I had been thinking of him. I also told her I always had problems with pains in half of my body (mainly in my left side, but that pain often moved to my right side too).

“My husband is a violinist in the Toronto Symphony, and he had an opportunity to visit Japan. Ever since then, his dream is to go to Japan again. We came from Russia,” she told me.

Marina had a sweet fragrance to her. Her English was excellent and sharp, and there was a suggestion of an extraordinary mind behind it. In addition, when she spoke Russian language, even native Russian speakers later said, “There is nobody who speaks such a beautiful Russian language.” I really wanted to have a person with such exquisite sense of hearing as my piano teacher. Mone’s ‘Water Lillies’, and some modern paintings hung on the walls of her studio.

I made blunders because I never dreamed we would get along so well. I was on the verge of collapsing with anxiety and pointless fears.


(*) The Canadian Royal Conservatory of Music has 1-10 grading system. Except this, there is the ARCT, which is the highest qualification similar to the final graduation.

                                      Tranlated by Saiko  


Japanese version of this page ・83年12・新しい先生



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# by mhara21 | 2017-06-17 23:45 | 後追い日記83年 | Comments(0)

チアーニの「Bach:パルティータ#6」に寄せて


Dino Ciani plays J.S. Bach, Partita No. 6 in E minor, BWV 830
- Live (1971)


もう1曲のバッハ
少年時代のチアーニが
バッハを弾いた後、
Dino Ciani speaks and plays Debussy - Rare Video RAI

神様再登場
・トッカータ
 素敵な演奏。テンポも適切。音の伸びも理想的。
・フーガ
 強弱の微妙についた クレッシェンド、ディミニエンドの美しい。
 神の悲嘆にくれる様子。
 ソステヌートは地球へのダメ押しのような気持ちを表している。

・アルマンド
 再び神の人間に対する感情の音を表す。

・クーラント
 「ええいッt、もうヤケクソ!!! 
  いっそのこと女でも強姦してやろうか ?」
 「女湯の覗きくらいじゃあ、おさまらない」

・Air
 グールドと正反対のヨーロピアンの解釈。
 でも、この気弱な神さまは、トボトボ街を歩くだけ。
 切ない気持ち、ため息だけは、ソプラノにしておこう。

・サラバンド
 神様「もうやだ~」@酒場
もうやだ~(悲しい顔)涙泣き顔ダッシュ(走り出す様)泣き顔泣き顔泣き顔あせあせ(飛び散る汗)泣き顔
  どなたか一緒に飲んで差し上げて。。。

・Temp do Gavotta
 夕陽新聞・隔日新聞・しんぶん青旗・汚教新聞・週刊誌「地球」 。
 各社一斉に「神様の片思い」を報道する。

・Gigue
 神様の記者会見の様子@地球人記者クラブ

〜〜〜〜〜

大好きな曲を大好きなチアーニの演奏で聴くことが出来て、
感無量の時を過ごしております。

少女の日にグレン・グールドの6番にどれだけ引き込まれたことでしょう。
32年前彼の演奏から生まれた連想は.........。

そして今日、その新たなバージョンを書くことになりました。

この曲をバトンにして皆様の幻想、空想を書いてください。


 .......ところで.......

..........この作品の作曲者は、勿論バッハ夫人でしょ?
グッド(上向き矢印)ウインク


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# by mhara21 | 2017-05-27 11:19 | エッセイ | Comments(0)

Golden Ball, 1982(37)

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_12133877.jpg

There is one more reason why I continued playing the piano after Gould’s death. In the winter of my sixteenth year I suffered such physical pains that I could not even take a moment’s sleep. My face, inside of my mouth and my teeth hurt most. I was being told that rheumatism had gripped my whole body or that I had trigeminal neuralgia, but what my pains actually were – they were the suffering of deceased people. I was assumed by the cries of their spirits.

Every night while I cried I would hear Bach’s Goldberg Variations Aria. Its sounds would come to me every evening at the same hour, together with some kind of a god. And then, that spiritual being told me “You will recover from your illness. When you turn 50 or 60, you will play the piano and pass something to the next generation.”

When I was seventeen I read Nietzsche’s “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”. This coincided with something that happened when I was 16. I had an experience of seeing the sun before dawn with the hermit who appears in this Nietzsche’s work. That is when I became a fan of Nietzsche’s, endeavoring in my heart to fulfill the promise I made when I was 16: “One day, surely…” I am not sure how to translate this paragraph

After Gould’s death, my guiding principle became “Zarathustra”.

“Verily, a goal had Zarathustra; he threw his ball. Now be ye friends the heirs of my goal; to you throw I the golden ball.
Best of all, do I see you, my friends, throw the golden ball! And so tarry I still a little while on the earth – pardon me for it! “ (excerpt from Zarathustra’s “Free Death”, translated by Thomas Common, Dover Publications Inc.)

For me, this “golden ball” is the very Goldberg (Variations) Aria given to me by Zarathustra at the end of my 16th year.

I wanted to know what Gould had to say about Nietzsche. In such a case it would be best to ask the said person for their opinion. However, I do not go ahead and put questions forward by myself. Even when I hear voices of deceased people, I do my best not to get involved in their conversation. Because I don’t want to be led by the nose by invisible voices.

However, I do not hesitate to say to people around me about Gould’s visits.
“Does Gould speak in English or in Japanese?”
“When I understand him, in my mind his words are in Japanese.”

“Does he ever enter your body and plays the piano?”
“Gould is a sensible person, so he doesn’t do such things.”

People react differently to this. Some exasperatedly say “Hmph!” Some give a wry smile, or make a perplexed expression.
There are some who say: “Well, you thought of him so much, something was bound to happen.”

                                                               Tranlated by Saiko
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# by mhara21 | 2017-02-28 00:00 | 後追い日記82年 | Comments(0)