I was lost much of these past few days, wondering where my photography is going and feeling stymied by ego. I needed to stop pushing and to simply be open. In that space I’m beginning to see some of what has been right in front of me.
Tonight I sat in the second row in a remarkable, small music hall, the Chandler, in Randolph, VT, to listen to Mehahem Pressler. This little, old man who plays so deliberately, so effortlessly and with such passion that many of us were weeping openly. The Schubert Sonata in B-Flat Major brought us to our feet. And then, just so we didn’t get too serious, his second encore was Lullaby, a clear sign he’d enjoyed himself but the evening had come to an end.
I’m inspired and feel back on course again. While I’d love to show a photograph of the man’s hands at work, that is not possible tonight. Instead I have a favorite photograph I made at a friend’s wedding several years ago of the hands of the accordion player! Maybe one day I will photograph Pressler at the keyboard, until then this link on YouTube will have to do!
“I once was lost but now I am found,” as the old song goes. Here is what Pressler says:
“I have devoted my life to the piano and to music-making. Whether you acquire public fame or not, devoting one’s existence to serving art provides a rich life and the healthiest form of fulfillment. I feel music is my religion, the hall is my temple and the composer is my God whose works I preach. It is no exaggeration to say that music saved my life.”