Guest guest Posted July 11, 2001 Report Share Posted July 11, 2001 >> On Nov. 18, 1995, Yitzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to >> give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. >If >> you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage >> is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, >> and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. > >> >> To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and >> slowly, is an unforgettable sight. He walks painfully, yet >> majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts >his >> crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back >and >> extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the >> violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to >play. >> >> By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while >> he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently >> silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is >> ready to play. >> >> But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first >> few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap >> - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what >> that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. >> >> People who were there that night thought to themselves: "We figured >> that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the >> crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or >else >> find another string for this one." >> >> But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes then >> signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he >> played from where he had left off. He played with overwhelming >> passion and power and purity. >> Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic >> work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that >> night Yitzhak Perlman refused to know that. You could see him modulating, > >> changing, recomposing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded >> like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that >> they had never made before. >> >> When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then >> people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of >> applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, >> screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we >> appreciated what he had done. >> >> >> He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet >> us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent >> tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how >> much music you can still make with what you have left." >> >> What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I >> heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the [way] of life - not just >> for artists but for all of us. Here is a man who has prepared all his >> life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, >> in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings. So he >> makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with >> just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, >> than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings. >> >> So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world >> in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and >> then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we >> have left. >> -- Jack Riemer, Houston Chronicle Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted July 11, 2001 Report Share Posted July 11, 2001 Perlman is a delightful man and a throughgoing mensch. One of my bandmates from back in the late '60s has worked with him extensively playing the "klezmer" music of eastern Europe, and according to him Perlman is as modest and generous a musician as you'd ever want to meet -- and of course one heck of an accomplished fiddler! :-) On Wed, 11 Jul 2001 21:24:27 -0000 "ALTON A ALTON" <lostnfoundation writes: > >> On Nov. 18, 1995, Yitzhak Perlman, the violinist, came > on stage to > >> give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in > New York City. > >If > >> you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that > getting on stage > >> is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with > polio as a child, > >> and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid > of two > crutches. > > > >> > >> To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, > painfully and > >> slowly, is an unforgettable sight. He walks > painfully, yet > >> majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits > down, slowly, > puts > >his > >> crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, > tucks one foot > back > >and > >> extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and > picks up the > >> violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor > and proceeds to > >play. > >> > >> By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit > quietly while > >> he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They > remain reverently > >> silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait > until he is > >> ready to play. > >> > >> But this time, something went wrong. Just as he > finished the first > >> few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You > could hear it snap > >> - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no > mistaking what > >> that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to > do. > >> > >> People who were there that night thought to themselves: > "We figured > >> that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, > pick up the > >> crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find > another violin or > >else > >> find another string for this one." > >> > >> But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his > eyes then > >> signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra > began, and he > >> played from where he had left off. He played with > overwhelming > >> passion and power and purity. > >> Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play > a symphonic > >> work with just three strings. I know that, and you know > that, but that > >> night Yitzhak Perlman refused to know that. You could > see him > modulating, > > > >> changing, recomposing the piece in his head. At one > point, it sounded > >> like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds > from them that > >> they had never made before. > >> > >> When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the > room. And then > >> people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary > outburst of > >> applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were > all on our feet, > >> screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to > show how much we > >> appreciated what he had done. > >> > >> > >> He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his > bow to quiet > >> us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, > pensive, reverent > >> tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to > find out how > >> much music you can still make with what you have left." > >> > >> What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my > mind ever since I > >> heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the [way] of > life - not just > >> for artists but for all of us. Here is a man who has > prepared all his > >> life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all > of a sudden, > >> in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only > three strings. So he > >> makes music with three strings, and the music he made > that night with > >> just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more > memorable, > >> than any that he had ever made before, when he had four > strings. > >> > >> So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, > bewildering world > >> in which we live is to make music, at first with all > that we have, and > >> then, when that is no longer possible, to make music > with what we > >> have left. > >> -- Jack Riemer, Houston Chronicle > > > /join > > > > > > All paths go somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights, > perceptions, and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and > subside back into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not > different than the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of > the nature of Awareness. Awareness does not come and go but is > always Present. It is Home. Home is where the Heart Is. Jnanis know > the Heart to be the Finality of Eternal Being. A true devotee > relishes in the Truth of Self-Knowledge, spontaneously arising from > within into It Self. Welcome all to a. > > > > Your use of is subject to > > > > ______________ GET INTERNET ACCESS FROM JUNO! Juno offers FREE or PREMIUM Internet access for less! Join Juno today! For your FREE software, visit: http://dl.www.juno.com/get/tagj. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You are posting as a guest. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.