22 December 2019, Rochester, NY
12:45pm
A cold winter afternoon in Rochester. Gazing out the car window, I see a thick white blanket covering everything. A halt, a “bid-adieu”, a push on the car door – I step into the cold, still air. A buzz, a polite greeting, a round of stamping on the carpet – I enter my very own sanctuary. The Memorial Art Gallery is probably my favorite place in Rochester other than Eastman. Walking along the promenade, you become a time traveler, cruising through the middle ages to modern times, meeting artists who speak to you through their artworks… But today, for a couple of hours, I am transforming myself into an artist in the museum.
1:00pm
Organ switched on. Shoelaces tied. Score folder in my left arm. Ready, set, go. With a smile on my face, I slide open the bellows room door and walk to the center of the fountain court. I notice how there are more people than usual: 10 people on the seats, a few standing in front of Luca Giordano’s “The Entombment”, and a few more standing at the far end of the court beneath one of the arch entrances. Having done the Sunday organ series many times, I feel very confident and at home with this. As I introduce myself, the Italian Baroque organ behind me, and my program, a steady stream of power flows in me from all around. I could feel the connection with the audience, their curiosity of the antique instrument, and perhaps on myself as a young man involved with historic arts. In the spirit of the Christmas season, I play four works that conjure festive moods – a song arrangement by Sweelinck, the Capriccio Cucu by Kerll, and two pastorales by Pasquini and Zipoli. As the sole performer, it is incredible how sensitive one becomes of the power dynamics in the room. A sneeze, a cough, a brief smile at my joke… it is very easy to tell if the audience is interested or not. This is definitely an involved one today, since they always laugh when I pull out the Uccelliera (song of birds) stop. The Zipoli pastorale played on meantone temperament never fails to impress, with all the spicy chromatic notes standing out, which I humorously tell the audience as the moos and mehs of cows and sheeps… The last note disappears into thin air. Silence. Warm and enthusiastic applause. Questions about the organ and a tour to the bellows room. Looks of wonder and amazement... This is why I study music: to perform, share, inspire.
