Johann Sebastian Bach: The Goldberg Variations, BWV 988
Rebecca Chaillot: Piano
After a few weeks filled with decadently rich and surprisingly almost crowd-free traveling experiences in Italy and France — never mind the persistent heat, the occasional hideous scaffolding and the time-honored Italian railroad workers’ strike — as I was working my way North from Naples, I at last made it to my final summer destination of Dieulefit, Drôme Provençale, in late June to spend most of summer with my mom.
By then I was ready for some good, or even just decent, live music, the only thing I sorely missed throughout my many exciting peregrinations, especially in Modena, where I wistfully passed the Pavarotti-Freni opera house in Modena and serendipitously met the legendary soprano’s delightful grandson, and in Parma, where the presence of Giuseppe Verdi, who was born in nearby Roncole, which is apparently close enough, is felt at every corner.
And then, before we knew it, we had four concerts lined up for the extended following weekend, starting last Friday evening, which happened to be the Fourth of July (AKA Independence Day) in the United States, even though there is obviously little to celebrate about the good old U.S. of A. these days.
That’s when adventurous French pianist Rebecca Chaillot had scheduled one of her high-quality, pay-what-you-can recitals inside the intimate courtyard of her beautifully restored home that doubles as a performance space in Colonzelle, a sleepy little village in which the glorious sounds of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Goldberg Variations would soon resonate on this perfect summer evening.
As we took our seats among the small but dedicated audience, I could not help but notice that the background noises, a relatively small price to pay for outdoors concerts, came from a wide range of sources: A few vehicles discreetly whizzing by outside the gate, many loquacious birds that would not be denied, gravel shuffled under the feet of concert-goers, and the creaking sound from the rusty steeple compass of the church next door, which was regularly manifesting itself according to the intensity of the otherwise welcome breeze.
And still, after the bells of said church had rung 7:00 PM, our hostess and entertainer for the evening had greeted us with her usual warmth, and we heard the first notes of Schubert’s Impromptu No. 3, Op. 90, all else became insignificant detail as we got pulled slowly but surely into the limpid clarity, tender embrace and meditative power of the piece. Right before starting to play, Chaillot had confessed that she loved Schubert, and sure enough, now she was proving it in spades.
She had also informed us that she would transition into Bach’s hypnotic Goldberg Variations right away, so we all remained quiet as she silently switched gears and then confidently took us on their extraordinary journey with impeccable technique and refined expressiveness. Even the ubiquitous feathered singers eventually gave it up to the human competition. I was lucky enough to have a close and personal view over her hands as they were working the keyboard with incredible dexterity and unabated stamina, and I found the visual display to be truly as dazzling as the music itself.
There was no encore, and none was expected, because, seriously, what can you play after such a masterful performance of such a masterpiece? There was a respectful silence, a grateful ovation, and the ringing of the nearby church bells at 8:00 PM as we were walking towards the gate. Not your typical Fourth of July party, just a much better substitute.
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