Perfectionist pianist gets upset
Classical musicians are not tolerant people. Especially not towards themselves.
We are perfectionists. We spend our lives in search of this beautifully proportioned, clear, accurate and unique ideal, motivated by a combination of emotion, thought and imagination. A seemingly impossible merge of heart and mind, control and freedom, balance and passion.
As in life and in love.
This is a sequence of three (short) takes from a recording session I had at the Royal Academy of Music in London last February. I was supposed to record Chopin, but I wasn't too pleased with it and resorted to playing some Scarlatti "to cool off" in the middle instead, then got pretty upset with tiny imperfections in the miniature Scarlatti as well and got off the stage almost ready to kill (myself).
However, in hindsight, music should live. And as in life, perhaps we should embrace the unplanned imperfections, appreciate their special qualities and try to flow with them, learn how to love and let go at the same time, freeing our minds and souls towards reaching a truly pure essence and acceptance of ourselves, which would ultimately enable us to soar.