Novblog

Disorder Chapter 1 (rough draft)

2006-01-04T02:35:00.000-06:00

There wasn't much room in the world for men like Colin. A specialist in a field few cared to enjoy anymore. What was it all for? Why had he done all of this, worked for all of these years? He remembered his letter of acceptance from Harvard, tucked neatly away somewhere in a file cabinet. He posessed a brilliant mind. He could have gone into any field he wanted. But he chose the one the seemed to have chosen him. Not a day passed by in which there was not some sort of music in his life. Colin practiced every day that he possibly could. To him what he did was not practice, but performance. Over the years his talent had surpassed the need for rote and dogged repetition of the fundamentals. He thought of this as he tinkered through some old books of Chopin mazurkas.

But, he needed to pack. It was not a long ordeal. The last several years he toured for eleven months at a time and lived from suitcase to suitcase. It seemed as though he would unpack only to repack again. He laid all his pre-folded clothing carfully into his suitcase. When he had finished and his suitcase was shut, he noticed that he could hear the ticking of the living room clock. This was not as much a testament to the precision of his hearing as it was to the emptiness of his condo. A bitter lonliness prickled through him. He had to get on the road again, that would be the cure for it. O'Hare to Heathrow, first-class.

Ch. 13

2005-08-09T01:08:00.000-05:00

Anne took off her heels as she walked back to the women's dressing room. Sandy caught up with her in the hall.

"Are you crazy?" Sandy exclaimed with bewilderment.

"What?"

"You just turned down drinks with Colin Bainbridge."

"I'm glad you were stalking me that whole time. " Anne joked. Sandy ignored the comment and continued.

"I don't think my previous statement about your sanity needs clarification."

"Sandy, this is just night one of several important concerts. I need sleep to play well, and I need to play well. This could mean a lot for my career. Drinks can wait."

Sandy let out a bemused laugh as the entered the now empty dressing room. "He looks like a model. You do realize that don't you?"

"I'm not blind." Anne said as she put on a pair of sneakers.

"You know what this means?" Sandy perked up with a fresh thought.

"No. What?" Anne grudgingly indulged Sandy.

"It means that you have to invite him out for drinks on Monday!" Sandy jumped up and down and clapped excitedly at her own idea.

Anne looked up from tying her shoes with significantly less enthusiasm. "I don't think so."

"Don't you think he's cute?"

"Yes, but I prefer to keep my professional relationships professional."

Ch. 12

2005-08-09T01:05:00.000-05:00

After the concert Anne was exhilerated. There was a flood of people waiting backstage to congratulate her. First in line was Stuart.

"Anne...that was absolutely marvelous!" He beamed as he spoke and took both her hands in his "That was really the best I've heard it played in ages. Brava!" He kissed her on the cheek and she thanked him sincerely. There were probably twenty or so others who stood backstage and Anne greeted each of them warmly. They all had such wonderful things to say about her playing. It was almost too much for her to take. But, she remembered, this was why she loved to perform. It was love not for the praise, but to see how truly moved by music people were, in ways both great and intangible. Though Anne enjoyed the backstage attention, she hoped for its brevity. It was starting to get late. She knew the adrenaline flowing through her veins would keep her from getting to sleep, so she wanted to get to bed as early as possible. After all, she had two more concerts to get through.

Toward the back of the diminishing crowd Anne noticed two men standing who looked to be about her age, nearly half the age of most of the others. One of them was Colin Bainbridge, she recognized him instantly from all the CDs of his she owned. She couldn't help but wonder why he was there. They weren't supposed to meet until Monday. She wasn't prepared for a meeting like this. A nervous lump formed in her throat, her hands went clammy.

Colin was still deeply annoyed with Brian. He shuffled his feet and looked around the room without advancing.

"Well come on, let's go talk to her" Brian said under his breath, through gritted teeth.

"This whole thing was your idea! You talk to her!" Colin hissed back.

"Look I-" Brian stopped mid sentence. During their bickering Anne had approached them.

Her heart raced with nerves "You must be Colin Bainbridge." She wiped the sweat from her palm on the back of her dress, as non-chalantly as possible, before offering it to Colin. He had wonderfully soft hands and a firm grip. Life was lead in the little details for Anne, she always noticed things like that, and made careful note of all of them.

"Yes, I-I am" Colin began with an uncharacteristic stammer. "And this is my friend Brian." Colin shot a covert glare at Brian.

"Nice to meet you. Colin and I are old college buddies. Anyway, we just wanted you to know that we thought you did a great job tonight." Colin silently resented Brian for speaking on his behalf.

"Oh. Thank you very much." Anne and Colin's eyes met.

Colin spoke as he looked into her deep brown eyes. "I've never heard Mahler played quite that way before, and I don't imagine I ever will again. It was very moving." Anne felt her cheeks go red.

She nearly had to kick herself to respond, she was so overcome by his flattery. "That's very nice of you to say."

Anne was startled when Brian spoke again; she had forgotten he was there.

"Colin and I were wondering if you'd like to join us for a drink. You know, to celebrate the concert."

Colin felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. Brian never failed to embarrass him.

"I'd love to, but I've got to get home early. I have two more of these concerts to get through. Have to get plenty of sleep. " She demurred.

Colin felt bittersweet relief flood over him. He spoke before Brian had the chance to. "That's quite alright. We won't keep you any longer. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise. " Anne tried to will away the blushing of her cheeks as their eyes again met.

"I'll see you Monday morning." Colin said shaking her hand.

"Yes. I look forward to it." There hands stayed clasped together for what seemed a moment longer than neccessary as Anne looked wonderingly at Colin. The two finally parted ways, both with smiles on their faces.

Ch.11

2005-07-15T00:30:00.000-05:00

At intermission Brian turned to Colin.

"She's good."

"Yeah."

"We should go backstage after the show."

"What for?"

"To congratulate her, obviously."

"I can do that on Monday." Colin shifted uneasily in his seat.

"But on Monday we can't take her out for drinks."

"What? Us? Drinks? You're unbelievable."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure she'd be delighted."

"What makes you think she would want to join us for drinks?"

"For starters, if she's single...you." There was a long pause in conversation as Brian stared expectantly at a frowning Colin.

"Little old me, huh? These are quite the assumptions you've been making."

"As one man comfortable with his sexuality to another, you are a pretty attractive guy, and you're available."

Colin's eyebrows raised. "Who said I'm available?"

"You did."

"Oh no, I said I'm single. There's a difference."

Brian sighed loudly. "Or you could try having some fun. What made you so uptight, anyway?"

"Fine. We'll ask her out for drinks. But she's going to say no."

"Fine. You don't know what she'll say."

"I have a feeling."

"We'll see."

"We certainly will."

The lights dimmed for the second half. Colin was annoyed at Brian for trying to shove him head first back into the world of dating, not even two hours after they had met up again for the first time in years. Brian was annoyed with Colin for being so stubborn. All he wanted for his friend was for him to have some fun, and maybe find someone worthwhile along the way.

He remembered the first and last time he matched Colin up with a girl in college. Colin stayed with her for as long as he and Brian were roommates. Brian saw how it changed Colin, how happy he had been, almost as though he had a deeper sense of purpose in life. Colin was a great guy to be with ordinarily, but when he was in love, he was something to behold. The fire of his creativity and charm had burned just a little more brightly.

Colin looked over at Brian as the orchestra played a Mozart symphony. Colin thought he looked rather smug, sitting there with his arms crossed. He felt sure that Brian wanted nothing more than to secure him a few cheap thrills, so he could be in on all the details afterward. That was precisely what Colin didn't want. He had lived that life already, on the road, albeit briefly. And, in all the ugliness of the truth of being handsome, he could crawl back to that lifestyle any time he wanted, without Brian's help. He had the looks, the career, the money, and the charm. If he really wished to he could go anywhere, find a woman, switch on the charm, and let his soul melt away as he talked her in to bed. He had only had two one-night stands in his life, but they were at a time when he had felt even more of an empty shell of a man. They filled him with a bitter sense of self-loathing. What he needed now was someone to love. That thought scared him more than anything. The world of pain and loss he'd lived in for the past several years made him a more distant man. He wasn't sure that he could ever love again.

The thought of going backstage began to make him nervous. He looked over at Brian who was seemingly resolute in his smug attitude. Colin tried to shrug off his thoughts and went back to listening to the symphony.

Brian thought to himself that Colin had better get over himself in a hurry. He hoped for Colin's sake that Anne was single. There had been a moment as Colin looked at her that Brian thought he saw a spark in Colin's eyes that hadn't been present the last time their paths crossed.

Ch. 10

2005-07-15T00:15:00.000-05:00

Colin had always listened to things intensely. Whether it was music or a partner in conversation, he invested a great deal of energy in observing. He had a separate kind of ferocity when it came to listening to music. As a teenager he checked scores out of the library and sat down with them open in front of him as he listened to recordings. He did this most often with piano music. On many occasions he listened to ten recordings of the same piece.

That night, during the Mahler, he sat there, in the darkness of the hall, rapt. There was no one there but he and the music. It was fascinating to him to watch the musicians play; the choreography of the string players' bows, the almost ritualistic movement of the percussionists from one instrument to another, the breathing of the wind players, it was all of endless interest to Colin. He had been watching Anne play for a time when he noticed her slip quietly off stage. He wondered why the principal trumpet player wasn't going to do the offstage solo.

Colin had heard the symphony before and had a vague recollection of the solo. His memory was re-awakened when Anne began to play it. A glorious sound wafted into the concert hall from some unseen farscape. It was ethereal, otherwordly. Some in the audience craned their necks in an attempt to see where it was coming from. It was masterful playing. The folk like melody of the trumpet spilled into the hall as golden thread from a spool into the gentle evening breeze. Colin's mind drifted to imaginings of a distant hapiness. He would be collaborating with the artist on Monday. He smiled at the thought.

Ch. 9

2005-07-09T01:21:00.000-05:00

Colin walked into the lobby of the concert hall clad in his wool dress coat and a warm scarf. He had remembered his leather gloves this time. He scanned the room for Brian as he unwound the scarf from his neck. Brian spotted him first and walked up from behind. He put his hand on Colin's shoulder.

"Colin!"

"Brian! Good to see you!" Colin turned to shake his hand. "A goatee?" He remarked, looking at Brian's face.

Brian stroked his chin. "It makes me look sophisticated."

"Right." Colin said with a dubious nod.

"My wife says so."

"Is she here tonight?" Colin asked, looking around.

"No, she's still settling things up at the condo in New York."

"I see. So this is a guy's night out."

"Precisely." Brian stroked his goatee again.

"You know I'll never take you seriously if you keep doing that. You look kind of like a 12 year old with a glandular problem." Colin said, referring to the strange effect Colin's facial hair had on his boyish looks.

"Like I said, more sophisticated." The two laughed.

"I snagged us some good tickets. We'd better go claim our seats.

They both took programs from the usher as they entered.

"Hmm. Mahler." Colin commented, looking at the program.

"That sounded negative. Don't you like Mahler?"

Colin stuffed his scarf into a coat sleeve once they had gotten to their seats at the middle of the main floor.

"It was a pensive tone. I haven't listened to any Mahler in years." Colin flipped through the program. It contained three months worth of program information and was glossy and full of advertisements, much like a magazine. He turned to the list of musicians in the orchestra. Glancing at the names he noticed Anne Williams listed as the assistant principal trumpet. He recognized the name from the list of musicians participating in Ravinia for the summer. He would be accompanying her in July. He pointed it out to Brian.

"I'm accompanying her at Ravinia this summer. I'm also accompanying the concertmaster."

"Ravinia. That will be nice. Anne Williams, I wonder if she's attractive." Brian wondered aloud, scanning his own program.

Colin frowned, "I don't see how that matters."

"Are you single."

"Yes." Colin continued frowning.

"That's why it matters. We'll find out soon enough." Brian motioned to the stage, where musicians were starting to make their way on stage.

Colin imagined a dowdy, middle-aged woman with big glasses after Brian wondered whether or not Anne would be attractive. He wasn't sure why the image popped into his head. Perhaps there had been someone like that at Julliard. That must have been it, he thought. He looked up at the stage with a curiosity born from Brian's comment. What if she was beautiful and young? But what did it matter? Then again, he was lonely. Lonely but reluctant to start anew after recent circumstances. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, and kept his eyes trained on the brass section. Eventually a brown haired young woman made her way on stage, in amongst the men of the brass section. She was, in fact, the only female brass player in the orchestra, aside from a fill-in french horn player. Colin thought her quite pretty, and took notice of her slim figure, dressed all in black, as he watched her move to her chair. Another trumpet player said something to her and she smiled in response. It was an alluring smile, Colin found himself embarrassingly captivated by it. He smiled along with her unconscious of it.

"So that must be her." Brian said, watching Colin swiftly squelch the smile from his face in embarrassment. "She's pretty." Brian raised his eyebrows at Colin. Colin rolled his eyes before returning to reading his program.

"Still, that has nothing to do with anything." he spoke definsively "I hope your wife knows you behave this way in public."

"Uh huh." Brian smirked at Colin's definsiveness.

The lights in the concert hall lowered and the stage lights brightened as the orchestra tuned. Colin kept a self-conscious eye on Anne.

Ch. 8

2005-07-09T01:17:00.000-05:00

After Anne was home and finished with practicing as much of the part as she could, she called Sandy.

"Hey Sandy, remember that call I got earlier, when you and I were talking?"

"Yes, and?"

"Jerry is sick again, so I'm filling in for him."

"Really?"

"Yes really!"

"So you get the whole post horn solo to yourself. That's exciting! And scary. Ooh, you're not scared are you? I'd be totally scared."

"I was a little nervous at first, but hey, I'm a professional."

"That's true. We all are."

It felt good to hear those words. They were all professionals, each and every one of them. Anne felt a little like she had the day she won the spot as assistant principal. All of her years of hard work were paying off, yet again.

"We are." Anne spoke reverently.

"I wish you all the luck in the world at rehearsal today, and for all the concerts."

"Thank you Sandy. I'd better get ready for rehearsal."

"Me too, bye."

"Bye." Anne wore a beaming smile. Tonight would be wonderful.

Ch. 7

2005-07-09T01:04:00.001-05:00

Colin frowned at hearing his phone ringing. It was his home phone, not his cell phone, which did not often ring, and it had distracted him from his practice. He trudged forlornly to his kitchen phone and picked it up.

"Hello?" He said glumly.

"Hey Colin!" Colin knitted his brow trying to recognize the male voice at the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"It's Brian, your old college roommate!"

Colin raised an eyebrow, "Brian?!"

"That's right. My wife and I just moved to Chicago and I thought I'd get in touch with you."

"And what the hell are you doing in a town like this? New York got too boring for you?"

Brian chuckled. "Not exactly. I got an offer from a law firm here that I just couldn't pass up."

"That's great." Colin's mood lifted significantly, hearing from an old friend.

"I happen to have a couple tickets to the CSO tonight. I know it's a little last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me. We can go out for drinks after."

"That sounds good to me. It'll be nice to catch up after all these years."

"Alright. Concert's at 7:30."

"I'll meet you there at 7."

Brian was Colin's first roommate at Julliard. He was a violinist from Wisconsin. Both had grown up in single child families and had their reservations about dorm living. But the two got along well and were fast friends. Colin was Brian's accompanist for both of his recitals. Eventually the pressures of the music world and pressure from his parents prompted Brian to transfer to NYU to study law. There seemed to be no love lost for Brian and he quckly became a successful intellectual property lawyer once he finished his degree. He passed the bar the first time, as he often brought up at parties. Colin was disappointed that Brian left music behind, but he knew his friend was happy. There are always those who can leave the music world without a tear shed or a backward glance. Brian was one of them; after selling his violin for a few thousand dollars he never picked up another. He had been a talented musician, even as a child, and he would always remember his musical life fondly, but he had no desire to return to it. Colin, on the other hand, could not fathom a life without the piano. To him it would have been akin to a life without air.

Ch. 7

2005-07-09T01:04:00.000-05:00

Ch. 6

2005-07-09T00:55:00.000-05:00

Anne had come out of her momentary panic by the time she had gotten to the front office. She walked in with her usual poise.

"Hello Anne."

"Hi Lucinda."

"I'll be back with the music for you in a second."

While Lucinda was out of the room Stuart Montrose walked in. He was the current director of the orchestra and would be conducting that weekend. He was a pleasant British gentleman of about 60, thin with grey hair. He wore a pair of half moon glasses, perpetually perched on the end of his narrow, sharp nose. His brown eyes sparkled.

"Anne, it's a pleasure to see you here." He said as he took her hand for one of his cordial yet limp handshakes. By then Lucinda had returned to her desk with the music.

"Sorry to interrupt, here's the music."

"Thank you." Anne took the music and turned back to Stuart. "I was wondering if I should come in early before rehearsal to discuss tempi. But, since you're here now...you don't mind talking about it right now, do you?"

"But of course, what concerns have you got?" He asked with a friendly pat on her shoulder.

"Well I was thinking, in the interest of simplicity, that I'd play the solo pretty much exactly the way Jerry was."

"Brilliant." He nodded in agreement.

"Okay, great. So then I shouldn't be doing much to cause you much worry."

"Me? Worry? Pish posh. I never worry when the music is in the hands of capable musicians such as yourself. I've got to go. I'll see you in a few hours." He gave Anne a fatherly wink and headed off for his office in a very upright gait. Anne breathed a sigh of relief.

Ch. 5

2005-07-09T00:45:00.000-05:00

Franz Peter Schubert: Colin had been well-versed in the music since childhood, and well-versed in the man since high school. There was something so indescribable about Schubert's music. It was timeless with such preciously unfolded melodies interwoven with the tinge of sadness that ran throughout Schubert's life. Schubert died a young man, only 31. Younger even than Mozart at his death, yet nearly as prolific. He was a short, chubby man, plagued by an awkward shyness. When he fell in love with a woman above his station it seemed inevitable that he would end up alone. The Romantic era's preoccupation with love and longing showed itself in all of Schubert's music, especially in that of his more than 300 art songs. For as much longing as there was in his music, there was equal joy. Schubert never achieved any real fame in his lifetime, apart from his close circle of friends who loved to perform his music at parties. Instead he died in poverty and obscurity, his own brother, a lesser composer, putting his own name atop some of Schubert's works. He died from syphillis, stacks of his music hidden away, yet to be published.

Colin thought it a pity, as he meandered through a slow movement on the piano, that a great talent like Schubert came to such an unhappy end. Colin took his book of Schubert sonatas from the file next to the piano. He opened it to double check part of what he had memorized and found himself staring into the chubby bespectacled portrait of Schubert that graced the title page. After having spent so many years playing the man's music, it was a bit like looking at the portrait of an old friend, long since passed on, and of whom only clouded and distant memories remained. Colin's thoughts were disturbed by a ringing phone.

Ch.4

2005-06-29T15:30:00.000-05:00

"How's the knee?" Sandy asked over the phone.

"Much better. I'm fully mobile now."

"Good. Canes are so unfashionable these days."

"I know you can't hear this, but I'm rolling my eyes." Just then Anne was beeped with an incoming call. "Ugh. I've got another call coming in. Can I call you back?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you at rehearsal."

"Okay, bye. Hello?"

"Hi Anne, it's Lucinda from the CSO office."

"Hi. What's up?"

"Jerry just called in sick so you'll be covering his part today in rehearsal, as well as in all of this weekend's concerts."

Anne's heart skipped a beat her chest tightened and her palms began to sweat.

"Oh. I hope it's nothing serious." She said after a pause.

"I haven't heard much about it. I've got the music here for you, if you want to pick it up early today."

"Yeah, I think I'll stop by early. Thanks."

"Sorry about this being so last minute. Thanks for being so good about it."

"Oh, it's no big deal. I'll be over in about a half hour or so."

"Okay. See you then. Bye."

"Bye." Anne flopped into a near by chair. She was still wide eyed and felt as though she had been hit by a ton of bricks. Contrary to what she had told Lucinda on he phone, this was a big deal.

Jerry, the Chicago Symphony's principal trumpet player was approaching retirement and had been suffering with bouts of various age-related illnesses. Anne was the assistant principal and she was expected to fill in for him at a moment's notice. She had filled in happily, and quite successfully before, but this time was different. This weekend the orchestra was playing Mahler. And it was not just any Mahler, it was the Mahler with the huge offstage trumpet solo. Jerry had been well for all the other rehearsals, so Anne was stepping in for the final rehearsal before the concert. The Posthorn solo, as Mahler called it, was a major solo for Anne to be taking over. Before could let the situation sink in, she was on her way to pick up the music.

She told herself not to worry about it as she drove. The solo is excerpted for almost every major orchestra's auditions. She had known it for years, and played it well in all the auditions she had taken. She had just never played it with an orchestra, in front of a live audience presumably filled with critics and season ticket holders. At the thought her heart rate again increased. Her clammy hands had a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She took a deep breath. At least I'll be offstage for the solo, she thought to herself.

Ch. 3

2005-06-28T15:00:00.000-05:00

Colin took a seat at his piano. He rubbed his hands which still felt sluggish after coming in from the cold. While playing through some scales, he looked past the piano and out the window on the far wall. It was then that he noticed the tiny flakes of snow that had started falling. He quit playing scales and played through the entire Bach concerto from memory. He felt distracted by the snow, or perhaps something else. He took a break for a cup of tea. not long after his tea bag sunk into the boiling water his cell phone rang in the next room. It was Margie.

"Colin dearie, I thought I'd just remind you about your rehearsal on Monday. Downtown at 10 a.m."

"I know Margie, thanks."

"Great. Just gotta make sure all my bases are covered. Bye bye."

"Bye."

Margie's tenacity was all at once amuzing and exasperating. Colin took his tea into the piano room. He looked at his piano from a distance. It was a beautiful Bosendorfer concert grand. Like all Bosendorfers it had several extra keys, extending the piano's lower range. They were covered by a little wooden door, closed until the keys were needed. Colin made sure to keep it in exquisite condition. He bought it in Texas, after he fell in love with it at the Van Cliburn piano competition. It posessed a warm, burnished, timbre that captivated Colin the first time he played it. He played no other instrument while he was in Chicago, but declined to have it shipped to other concert venues for fear of damaging it. It had begun to snow harder outside. Colin walked to the window to watch the gathering snow. After a few minutes Colin could no longer bear the lonliness of the silence surrounding him. He went back to the piano to work on Schubert.

Re-vamp: Chapter 2

2005-06-27T03:08:00.000-05:00

Anne sat on her living room couch nursing her knee with a bag of ice.

"I've never met someone so young with such a bad knee." Her friend Sandy said jokingly.

"I don't have a bad knee. I just twisted it during that new stretch we learned today. That fill-in woman running our Pilates class is kind of a Nazi."

"Agreed."

"Did you look at the orchestra schedule for next week?"

"Yeah, Maestro Roberto is in town." Both women rolled their eyes at nearly the same instant.

"Speaking of Nazis..."

"Oh don't be so harsh. He isn't that bad. I think I detected an air of kindness in his voice the last time he yelled 'ey flauto, articulate' at me."

"Ooh," Anne winced as she moved her knee."Maybe he made a vodoo doll of me. You think you've got it bad, he gives us trumpets the evil eye before rehearsal has even started. I swear every time I look up from my music he's got that lazer-eyed look of death zeroed in on me."

"We can be thankful he's only here a week."

"You have to admit though," Anne said wistfully, "He does whip us in to shape."

"I suppose. I still prefer the kind ones. Don't you have an extra rehearsal this week?"

Anne was only half listening as she nursed her knee. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I've got a rehearsal with some pianist for the summer music festival." She took the bag of ice off her knee and began to rub it gingerly.

"Some pianist?"

"I think the pain killers are starting to work. Well, he's not just some pianist." Anne limped to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Isn't it that hot guy? What's his name?" Sandy called to the kitchen.

"Colin Bainbridge. You're awfully vain. There's a couple of his albums in my CD rack. See for yourself if he's hot." Anne limped back from the kitchen.

"Look under Janacek. It's all alphabetical."

"Janacek?" Sandy sounded dubious.

"Yeah, I had a thing for one of his piano sonatas a few years ago. So I bought a copy. Have a problem with that?"

"No. I just never thought of you as a Janacek person. Oh, there he is. Wow, he is hot. And, judging by this photo, no wedding ring!" Sandy winked at Anne.

Anne shook her head. "Must you sexualize everything? Besides, that picture is from like five years ago. He could have been married and divorced ten times over by now. I don't see what difference it makes to me. We're meeting for an hour and a half to go over two pieces that we won't even be performing until summer. What are you looking at me like that for?" Sandy had a goofy smile across her face.

"I just think it's funny that you're so defensive. I never said anything about anything."

"You implied plenty. You're always trying to play match maker with me. You know I'm not looking."

"You say that, but I know you're lonely."

"I'm not looking. Ow!" Anne grimaced and grabbed her knee. She had forgotten to limp while on her way to the couch.

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that he's hot."

"Mmm, hmm." Anne rolled her eyes.

"Well, I gotta get home and practice. You know Roberto, and those high standards of his."

"All too well. See you later. And stop looking at me like that!" Sandy laughed as she left Anne's house.

"Flute players." Anne said under her breath.

Re-vamp

2005-06-26T03:44:00.000-05:00

I have decided to create a new beginning for my novel. It feels a bit like reinventing the wheel, but hopefully it will work out for the best.

It was a fall midday in downtown Chicago and a flood of people, on the sidewalks, in their cars, and on the el were making their way through the city. Lost in the sea of people was a man in his late twenties. Six feet tall, blonde haired and blue eyed, he thrust his hands into his coat pockets to fend off the chill in the air. He cast his glance down at the sidewalk and avoided eye contact with those he passed by. He had forgotten his good leather gloves in his condo that morning. It was late fall and the coldness in the air had begun to gain a bitterness foretelling of the winter to come. It was rare that Colin forgot anything, and his lack of gloves began to bother him. His pockets served him well enough, for the moment, in fending off the cold. His hands clenched to fists inside his pockets while he waited to cross an intersection, a train screeching around the corner overhead. How could I have forgotten my gloves? he thought to himself as he crossed the street. A pretty young woman passing him on the sidewalk managed to catch his eye with her smile and interrupted his thoughts. Her smile was received with a reception as icy as the wind, which had picked up since Colin began his sojourn. Her smiled disappeared rapidly as they passed each other and Colin returned to watching the sidewalk. He often got looks like that from women. He was quite handsome. Ordinarily he would have been more polite, but today was not a good day. What had he done with his gloves?

Finally, mercifully, he had arrived at his agent's office building. He moved hurriedly through the revolving doors, glad to be out of the wind that was now whipping fiercely between the skyscrapers. In the elevator he was finally alone. He pushed the button for the twelfth floor and let out a sigh as he leaned back against the wall, his hands back in his coat pockets. In the silence Colin noticed the muzak being pumped into the elevator. Smooth jazz. He shook his head.

The elevator doors opened to the brightly lit lobby of Beardsley Publicity, the home base of Margie, Colin's agent. Beth, the tiny yet endlessly perky front desk secretary smiled at Colin the moment she saw him.

"Margie's expecting you. Go right on in."

When Colin opened the door Margie was at her desk, in a smart black pants suit with white pin stripes, typing furiously at her computer.

"Oh, hey Colin. Sorry, I'm a little behind on some e-mails. I can't keep up with this technology, seriously." she spoke with false modesty. Colin had never known anyone else with such technological savvy. "Anyway, I just got Botox, can you tell? Shh, don't answer, only me and my doctor are supposed to know. Have a seat, please." Margie seemed to have boundless energy, especially for a woman of nearly fifty, and Colin was beginning to feel worn out by comparison as he sat. "So the news is this: the Bach album is doing terifically. The record company thinks it did so well because you did more touring on this one, and I agree. You're going to be putting that Schubert album in the can pretty soon right?"

"Yes, I'm flying to London in a week to record."

"Well don't sound so glum, kid. I have a whole series of recital dates set up for you. All you have to do is go over the list and green light what you want. I'd suggest doing them all, personally, there are some great locations this time. Great halls, great countries. There are dates in Europe, Canada, and the U.S. this time. And with your success I think the label will be glad to finance and create promotion at all the locations." Margie whisked a copy of the tour dates and locations from her printer, still warm and handed it to Colin.

"You know the European leg of the Bach tour starts once I'm done recording in London. don't you?" he spoke to her with a kind of tired exasperation.

"I know hon, you can let me know what you want via phone or e-mail any time. I'm always here for you. Oh, look at the time, my twelve-thirty will be here any minute. Sorry to rush you, but you know how the business is." Before he could respond Margie was gently shuffling him out the door. "Goodbye Colin, and have a great trip!" She said as the door closed.

"Have a great trip!" Beth echoed from the front desk with a nervous giggle.

"Thanks Beth." Colin said ruefully as the elevator door slid shut.

Colin was back in the elevator, with the muzak. He tried to block it out by hearing the Schubert he would be recording the next week in his head. There were two sonatas he had to know from top to bottom. The first movement of one cascaded through his mind. It was interrupted intermittantly by the muzak and the Bach piano concerto he was touring with. He had performed the Bach in a dozen different cities on a dozen different pianos, some better than others, and with a dozen different orchestras, some better than others. It was ingrained in his memory and his fingers. He would play it in a dozen more cities before the tour cycle was over.

The elevator door opened on the main floor, and Colin was relieved to part with its muzak. He pushed his way out of the revolving doors and into the gusts of wind which were now quite chilling. Grey clouds had moved in over the sun. It looked as if it might snow. The wind was a bitter reminder of his forgotten gloves. Colin stuck his hands back in his coat pockets. Rather than brave his way home through the cold, Colin crossed the street and hailed a cab. The driver didn't try to make small talk with him, which was a relief. Colin looked out the cab window blankly.

Part 14

2005-02-23T17:52:00.000-06:00

"How did this new solo opportunity affect your orchestral schedule?"

"In the beginning not at all. I just incorporated practice of the Shostakovich into my normal practice routine. I think it actually improved my playing a bit. I always like to work on pieces outside of what I have to do for orchestra. Diverse literature really broadens your musical horizons."

"When did your orchestral schedule start to become an issue?"

"It became an issue when I started thinking about touring with Colin. I knew that I wouldn't be able to perform regularly with the symphony while I was on tour, so I decided to take a sabbatical."
"How long was your sabbatical for?"

"It was difficult for me to decide. I ended up choosing to take an entire season off. It doesn't seem like a lot of time, but it really is. The summer we recorded the Shostakovich I formally announced my sabbatical for the following fall season."

"How were the recording sessions?"

"It was an amazing experience, for me at least. Colin was used to recording with major ensembles all the time, but the whole process was completely new to me. All the times I had done professional recording sessions I was just a member of the orchestra. This time I was a soloist. I got so much input in the process. It was both liberating and scary all at the same time. I have to say, Colin made me look like an amateur." Anne smiled remembering their sessions.

It was a warm and breezy summer day when the Shostakovich recording sessions be
gan. Symphony Hall in downtown Chicago looked formidable in the sunlight. Colin and Anne arrived at the hall together.

"Are you nervous?" Colin asked.

"No, not really. I will be if you keep asking."

"Don't worry I won't. I'm sure it will be a breeze this week. I've worked with this producer before. He makes sure everything moves smoothly."

"I hope they mic the stage well. I hate having to play things again, just because the mic setup is bad."

"I've always like the results when they've set up the mic for me. I'm sure they've had experience with brass players before."

When they entered the concert hall it was empty, with the exception of the engineering crew. The lights were dimmed and the orchestra's chairs sat vacated on the stage. The silence was crisp.

"This is nice. I've never gotten here early enough to hear the silence. It's so peaceful." Anne commented as she looked around the hall.

"I always make sure to show up well before the scheduled rehearsal time. The quiet helps me focus. Colin walked onto the stage and Anne headed for the orchestra locker room.

"I'll meet you back out here after I've dropped off my things."

Colin sat down at the piano. It was his Bosendorfer from home. He had it shipped over by truck the evening before. He had missed it the whole night long and was eager to warm it up again. It had taken him only a week of intense study to memorize the Shostakovich. It was not a simple piece. He relished the challenge. It was a modern work full of sprightly passages played at a brilliantly fast pace as well as a tranquil slow middle movement. Though he had memorized the work in its entirety he brought the sheet music along with him. He didn't want to be responsible for logging extra minutes because he had forgotten a passage. This had never happened to Colin during a recording session or live performance, but he kept the music with him for safety's sake.

Anne took out her trumpet and put away her case while she was in the ladies' locker room backstage. She took out the mute she would be using during the slow movement and sat down on one of the benches. She was about to embark on her first professional solo recording gig. It was a momentous occasion and she was combating an influx of unfocused excitement. She could not have been more proud to be collaborating with Colin. He was her love and inspiration. She had incredible respect for his artistry. Her admiration for his musicianship ran deep as did his for her.

Part 13

2005-02-23T17:49:00.000-06:00

"How did you two manage to work out your problems with separation?"

"Colin came up with an idea that completely surprised me. Shortly after he proposed to me he told me about it."

"And what was the idea?"

"He told me that he had brought some tapes of my playing, all without telling me, to his recording label. The producers showed some interest and he said that he would like to record Shostakovich's first piano concerto, which has a prominent solo trumpet part, with me exclusively. They agreed that it would be a great idea."

"What did you think of it when Colin approached you with the idea?"

"I was thrilled. I have loved that concerto since I first started playing the trumpet. What was even better was that his record label was willing to foot the bill for both of us to go on tour with the piece. Opportunities to travel as a soloist come along so rarely in this business, so I jumped at the chance. Plus, I would be touring with my fiancee, and we would actually be able to spend quality time together."

"Anne? Are you awake?"

"Mmmph, I am now." Anne said, rubbing her eyes as sunlight spilled in through the bedroom window.

"What would you say if I told you that you have the opportunity of traveling with me as a soloist and recording with me?"

"I'd say you must be out of your mind." Anne rolled over and looked at the clock on the night stand. "Jesus, it's 6 a.m.Why'd you have to wake me up so early?" Anne buried her head in her pillow in an attempt to block out the sunlight.

"Because I have exciting news. When I was at the studio the other day I asked them if I could record Shostakovich 1 with you and they said yes!"

Anne's head shot up from her pillow and she sat bolt upright, looking at Colin wide-eyed. "What?!? Are you kidding me? Why would they okay that? They haven't even heard me play."

"I am deadly serious. I took some of the recital recordings you made in college and played them for the execs. They liked your playing and think it would be a great idea for us to team up. They even want us to go on tour to promote the album. Isn't that great?"

"It's better than great!" Anne threw her arms around Colin, "It's, it's beyond words! I've got a concerto to learn. Wow."

"We've got a concerto to learn. The recording sessions won't be until next summer, so we've got plenty of time. They've suggested an eight week tour, four in the U.S. and four in Europe."

"This is all so unbelievable. Thank you for playing those recordings for them at the studio. I never thought a record studio would be so willing to...you must have had quite an influence on them."

"Hardly. It was all the work of the recordings. They were very enthusiastic about them."

"Really?"

"Yes. You seem so surprised. I don't know why. You are a wonderful trumpet player. And you deserve this opportunity."

"I'm just...I guess I'm just surprised by all of this. I can't believe you stole my recordings!"

"Stole? That's the thanks I get?"

"You know I'm kidding."

"I know."

"Still, you put my recordings back where you found them, right?"

"In the exact alphabetical order I found them in."

"Whew. I'm glad you support my organizational rigor."

"I'd be a fool not to."

"You know me well."

Part 12

2005-01-21T15:25:00.000-06:00

Colin was away on tour again for a long two weeks. Mid-tour he stopped home in Chicago for an evening before flying to Minneapolis. He orchestrated an entire evening for he and Anne to be together, complete with candlelit dinner. He cooked the dinner himself, and it was quite delicious, much to Anne's surprise.

"I didn't know you could cook. That was delicious." She said as he cleared away the dishes.

"And there's just one more little secret you've learned about me."

"This is why we need to spend more time together. I could have been eating like a queen every night."

"Don't get your hopes up."

"Kidding aside, you know how I feel about all the touring."

"I know," Colin said, returning from the kitchen. "Come to the parlor. I want to play something for you."

"...said the spider to the fly. I don't know, you're not usually one to give impromptu concerts like this."

"I'm full of surprises tonight. Well, come on, I can't wait over here at the piano all night!"
Anne sat down on the parlor couch. She noticed that Colin had set a candelabra on the piano to read his music by.

"You own a candelabra?"

"It goes back to my Liberace days."

"Jeez, I hope you're kidding."

"Shh! I'm about to play something I arranged just for you."

Anne looked at him quizzically as he leaned way back on the piano bench, in preparation to play. He looked as though he was mocking all the musicians who are overly demonstrative in the physicality of their playing as he shook his hands before starting. Anne raised an eyebrow in surprise as she recognized the theme in the verbose arrangement Colin had made. He leaned and swayed as he played the work, which stretched across the keyboard. He knitted his brow with his feigned exertion, occasionally casting a wide-eyed glance at Anne. She held back laughter as he flared his nostrils at the first cadence. As the piece became more over the top, so did his performance. When he reached the climactic end he snapped the key cover shut with a grandiose motion and collapsed head first onto the key cover. Seconds later, in the midst of Anne's laughter, his head popped up from the piano.

"Well?" He asked.

"Bravo maestro!" She said, applauding fervently.

"Did you recognize the theme?"

"Of course. It was Wagner's wedding march. I'm not sure what..."

"Wait, don't say another word. This brings me to something more serious." Colin walked to the couch and got down on bended knee. Anne looked down at him, dumbfounded. "Anne Elizabeth Stevens, will you marry me?"

Anne's eyes filled with tears, "Yes! Of course I will!"

Colin produced a small black box which contained a diamond engagement ring. He slipped it on to her ring finger.

"It's beautiful!" Anne beamed and embraced Colin.

Part 11

2005-01-21T15:21:00.000-06:00

"Hardly. I had to take basic piano class as an undergraduate. I don't think I learned much. I'm terrible at playing two things at once. That's why I play an instrument that doesn't require two hands."

"So I guess that means no piano for four hands pieces tonight."

"Four hands, huh? I think I can be persuaded, as long as it isn't too difficult."

Colin immediately set to work shuffling through his file of music next to the piano. "I wouldn't pick out something difficult. I still have all the old four hands stuff I used to play as a kid with my teacher. I'll make sure you get the easy part." He winked as he put a music book on the piano. "Well, come on over to the bench, I can't play all four parts myself." He patted on the bench for Anne to sit.

"Okay, but I can't believe I'm doing this. You're an award winning pianist with a recording contract, I'm lucky if I can remember where middle c is on the piano." She sat down next to him on the bench, which did not provide ample room for the both. "This could get a little close." She said with a laugh.

Anne hacked through her part while Colin played his without flinching. The two laughed at their folly as Colin turned to the next page. "Look out, there's a hand crossing in this one. I have to play bass clef. Hey, your not giving me much room." He said as he reached across the piano and between her arms to play.

"You better look out, I'm supposed to be playing on that side, I have to reach the way up there. You don't give much lea way do you?"

"Here, maybe if I reach around your back instead," Both stopped playing, his arm now resting on her shoulders, and looked into each other's eyes, frozen in time. Slowly they fell into a kiss and time seemed to stop. When they parted Colin spoke quietly, "I hope that wasn't too presumptuous of me."

"Of course not." Anne smiled coyly.

"I think the couch might be a little more comfortable than this." Colin said.

"Agreed." They walked over to the couch and sat down. They sat in silence for a long moment before Anne spoke again. "I just want you to know that I haven't felt this way about anyone for a long time. I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. I hope I'm not being too presumptuous if I say that I think you feel the same way."

"Not at all. I don't give out my e-mail address to every woman I meet. I haven't met many women like you. I could tell you were something special at our first meeting." He pushed her soft hair back from her face and kissed her again.

"You were saying?"

Anne was roused from a far away look in her eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry, I was caught up in a moment there. He played a Janacek Sonata for me. It was wonderful to watch him play. He was so intently focused on his art, I think that's why he is such a great performer. People come to see his dedication and the attention he pays to every musical nuance. It is rare to find anyone with that kind of devotion to the music. I know I was inspired by it."

"A lot of recent magazine articles have described your relationship and musical partnership with Colin as a fairy tale. Do you think this is a fair assessment?"
Anne looked at her interviewer thoughtfully. "I don't think any relationship that exists in reality can fairly be described as a fairy tale. Colin and I have certainly had our fair share of hard times along with the good times. It is getting through that bad times that lets you know how important the relationship really is to you. If you can't stick together during the tough moments, what is the point?"

"Could you talk a little about some of the hard times?"

"I'd rather not go into too many details, but early in our relationship our schedules were definitely a problem. Colin would be on the road for weeks at a time. One year, when the orchestra was touring, we were both on the road, we didn't see each other for about three months. But in a way, I suppose, it helped because absence does tend to make the heart grow fonder. We weren't able to get sick of one another."
Anne thought to herself about what the real hard times had been like.

Colin and Anne had been together for three years. She had moved out of her apartment and into his home. Both had returned from extensive touring in Europe, Anne with the orchestra and Colin alone, promoting his new album of Beethoven sonatas in a series of recitals. Exhausted but unable to sleep due to jet lag, Anne sat up in bed in the dark. Colin laid next to her, fast asleep.

"Colin?" She whispered.

"Hmm?" Colin rolled over groggily.

"We never see each other anymore."
"What?"

"How many times have you been home this year? Five, maybe six weeks?"

"I have a new album, the orchestra has been in Europe. What are we supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know."

"I can't quit playing, and I can't quit touring. I'm a soloist. My career depends on my audience. My playing gets stale if I don't bring it to a live audience."

"I know. I'm not suggesting that you quit. I just, well, I miss you. Couldn't you tour less?"

"Anne, I miss you every time I leave. You know what I think of when I play the Moonlight Sonata? You. I have to talk to my agent and the record company about all this touring. I don't enjoy it when I have to tour so often. I have to leave for the U.S. part of the tour in two days, but I promise you that I'll come up with a solution while I'm gone."

"I hope so. Colin, one more thing."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I know. And I love you."

Part 10

2004-12-04T16:52:00.000-06:00

"Colin and I continued to go out on dates as often as we could."

"Did both of your musical careers make that difficult?"

"Yes. Often times he would be gone on tour, or I would have so many concerts and rehearsals that we couldn't see each other for weeks at a time."

"Was there any one moment, early on in the relationship, where you thought to yourself that perhaps this relationship would be something special, even monumental?"

"After we had dated for a month or so, Colin invited me to his home to play the piano for me. I'll never forget that night."

Colin had an elegant home just outside of the city. It was simply furnished and the centerpiece was obviously the large parlor, home to his concert grand piano. The room had very few furnishings, an oriental rug in the center of the hard wood floors and a couch and floor lamp across from the piano. He had some framed art on the wall behind the couch. Most notably was a classic portrait of Brahms at the piano, smoke billowing from his cigar as he played. Anne was studying the picture when Colin returned to the room from hanging up their coats.

"That's definitely not the original, but it's a very old reproduction." He said to her.

"It's a famous image. We had a repro of this same painting in my house growing up. It's good to see it again."

"Please, have a seat on the couch. I like to call it the listening couch. It sounds cliche, but that's pretty much the only reason anyone sits there. I often have people critique my playing from that venue," he walked to the piano and readjusted the piano bench as he spoke, " A lot of times I find it more nerve wracking to play for a few people here in the parlor than in a packed concert hall." He smiled from the piano bench.

"I know how you feel. It's the intimacy that makes it uncomfortable. The glaring stage lights, the darkened hall, it all distances you from the audience, makes the experience seem more surreal. Here you have no escape from your audience. And watch out, I'm a harsh critic." Anne smirked furtively.

"Really? Because if you're going to be hard on me, I don't know if I can take the pressure. I'm nervous already."

"Oh, I'm not always so harsh. I hope you're not always this facetious."

"Well, not usually."

"So, let's see what you're made of. What's on the program?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with Janacek."

"Yes."

"I recently started working on a sonata by Janacek written in 1905. It's a very intense piece to prepare. I've felt for a while now that I should find out how it is to play it in front of someone else. I just had to find someone with enough personal intensity of their own to be able to tell if I'm doing my job right, if I'm actually conveying the emotion enough."

"And I'm that person, of all the people you know?"

"Without a doubt."

"I'm flattered." Anne did her best to conceal the blush she felt rushing to her face.

"It's only two movements long. Why it isn't longer is because when Janacek heard it premiered he thought it was terrible. He burned the only copy."

"Then how does it exist today?"

"That's where it gets interesting. The young woman who premiered it had memorized the first two movements, and when she found out that Janacek had burned the work, she set down what she had memorized on paper. I can't understand why Janacek would want to burn it, it's such a wonderful piece. Anyway, I'd better get to it."

Colin turned to the piano and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He sunk into deep concentration as he played the first soft chord of the piece. Anne watched him play, intently. He had memorized what he played, so his gaze was often fixed on a distant and mysterious place. Only rarely would he look down at the keyboard. The Janacek was a darkly profound piece. Often it would reach such a rhythmically frenetic and dynamically charged moment that it came almost to a breaking point, to be surprisingly followed by a moment of near silent delicacy. Colin handled both sides of the work's character marvelously. He seemed to revel in the polarity of it, often smiling to himself, ever so slightly, as he played. When he came to the end, he sank a little at the bench and let out a sigh. The intensity lifted from his brow and his consciousness floated back from the far away place it had been to the parlor and his lovely guest. Anne smiled and clapped enthusiastically.

"Please, please, your applause is too much! But in all seriousness, what did you think?"

"It was, you know I honestly can't describe very well. It was so dynamic and intense."

"That's a relief. I am always paranoid that I'm not conveying the emotion when I play. I catch myself getting bogged down in the mechanics. It is such an unfortunate trap to get caught in."

"I think every musician worth anything worries about that, I know I do. You played wonderfully."

Colin smiled with a fresh thought, "Do you play?"

Part 9

2004-12-04T16:49:00.000-06:00

"Okay, I'll admit it, I do things besides practice. I teach lessons at Northwestern as an adjunct faculty member. I'm also a member of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Brass Quintet. I do nonmusical stuff every once and awhile too. I like to come here and read. I like to hike through the parts of Chicago that still contain nature. And, I'm here tonight. And I've forgotten all about our Q and A. So where did you grow up?"

"I grew up in a suburb of Chicago."

"Which one?"

"Winnetka." Colin seemed almost reluctant to answer.

"Ooh, posh. Where your parents musical?"

"Not at all. Both of my parents were doctors, both of their parents had been doctors and, naturally, they wanted me to go into medicine."

"But they must have encouraged your piano playing."

"They did, I started lessons at the age of five. But they thought that piano should only be a creative outlet for me, aside from my academic endeavors. They tended not to complain about my playing because I did well at it while maintaining good grades in school."

"So how did it work out when it came time to go to college?"

"Well, they gave me an ultimatum: I could go to any college I wanted to, but if I wanted to study music, I'd have to find a school that would let me in with a full scholarship. Basically they weren't going to pay for it if I wanted to go into music. As it turned out Juliard offered me a full scholarship, so that was it. My parents came to terms with it, gradually."

"My parents never hesitated to try and discourage me from music. They wanted me to study something that would get me a job after school. Unfortunately for them, I was determined to study music. Though I don't think it would have mattered what I went into, most of my scholarly interests wouldn't be very profitable in the job market. I was interested in writing and language. I actually got a minor in linguistics when I graduated with my bachelor's in music. I can't say that it has done me a lot of good since then."

"Looks like we both share parents who were reluctantly supportive. I thought about doing something other than music also. I toyed with the idea of going to med school while working on my music degree, but doing both at once would have been a logistical impossibility. I think I made the right choice though."

"I think you did too. It's good for the both of us that we're lucky. Everybody knows that, despite what they tell you at school, talent is usually less important than being in the right place at the right time."

"I know I've had a few lucky breaks. It is sad that luck does play such a big part. I've had a number of students with a great deal of talent who have quit, solely because they couldn't find their big break."

"I've had a some students like that. It's unfortunate to see them quit, but you can't help but think to yourself: there's one less shark in the pool." Anne smiled mischievously.

"That's terrible...okay maybe I've thought that a time or two, but not in good conscience."

"Of course not." Anne said with a wink. The two drank from their coffee as snow began to fall outside the window.

Part 8

2004-12-04T00:07:00.000-06:00

"Childhood?"

"I like the way you think. Where did you grow up?"

"St. Paul, Minnesota."

"Its a great town, I've played with the chamber orchestra there a couple of times. I like their orchestra, it's a very professional group."

"St. Paul is not far from the Minnesota Orchestra either. I subbed for them for a season while I was in undergrad."

"So you went to the UofM?"

"For my undergraduate work, yes. I came here to Northwestern to get my graduate degrees. Where did you go to college?"

Colin looked as though he had been disappointed by the question, "I'll give you one guess."

Anne wasn't sure whether or not she should respond with a sardonic guess, so she guessed honestly, "Julliard?"

"We have a winner. I did indeed attend the jail yard."

"Do I detect some bitterness about it?"

Colin chuckled, "Yes, but it's really more resentment than it is bitterness."

"Why?"

"There was nothing but pretension at Julliard. There was no sense of community either. Students would just cram themselves into practice rooms for hours on end and then go back to their dorms to eat and sleep. I made as many friends as I could, but there was a lot of animosity between the pianists. Most of them were nice people, but there were a few who I never spoke more than three words to the whole time I was at school."

"I can't even imagine what that's like. I went to a public university. The first year I was in school, the band I was in wasn't even made entirely of majors. Some people were in band just for the fun of it."

"And that's something I can't imagine."

"While you're not touring, how do you spend your free time?"

"Practicing, sadly," Colin paused with a smile, "but seriously, though I do spend a lot of time at the piano, I like to go out and wander the city. I am on an extended break from touring this time. I'm recording some solo stuff here in Chicago for a new album."

"A new album. That must be great, to be able to work on solo projects with great studios and recording engineers."

"It is, but it's also very taxing. I can spend hours recording just one movement of a sonata until its just right. I like to do things in just one take, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way."

"I take it you've had a few late nights?"

"There was only one time where I had a problem in a recording session, fortunately. I stayed in the studio until about 1 in the morning. Because of my schedule, I couldn't start recording that day until eleven in the evening. I was doing a disc of Haydn sonatas, and it took some time before I got to the third movement of one particular sonata. For some reason I just couldn't get it to sound the way I wanted it to. Take after take, it just didn't sound right. I spent almost an hour and half on that movement alone. By the time we got a take I liked, I didn't want to play it ever again."

"I've only done one recording session with the orchestra so far. They are so tedious with an orchestra. They spent hours working out the sound engineering. Half the brass section was moved almost to the back of the stage because of balance issues, and then they decided that it was actually a microphone issue and they didn't need us to move after all. The worst part is that I didn't have a very big part, so I spent most of the time sitting there, trying to be perfectly silent."

"Just out of curiosity, when you're not recording with the orchestra, what do you do with your free time?"

"Practice." Anne looked at Colin silently with a smile.

He smiled back, "We all do that, but I'm sure you do something else, even if its only on rare occasions."

Part 7

2004-11-10T13:37:00.000-06:00

"Why is that?"

"At that time the guest conductors had been choosing really difficult contemporary orchestral literature for their programs. I spent hours practicing the pieces and still fumbled around a little. I was getting some harsh criticism from the conductors, and some from my section. All the confidence I had in my playing was starting to falter. There was a lot of pressure, being the assistant principal, and I was beginning to think that maybe I couldn't handle it."

"How was the rest of the orchestra dealing with the literature?"

"The members that I talked to, most of them my friends, thought that the entire orchestra had its work cut out for it. This was especially the case because the conductors who had been bringing in this literature were real hard-liners. They weren't going to take anything less than perfection. The principal clarinetist who was, and still is, a close friend of mine said that she couldn't remember a time when playing had caused her so much stress. The whole group was starting to show the wear and tear. Nobody vocalized any complaints to management, but you could see that people were starting to get tired. There would be some concerts where almost a third of the string section had called in substitutes to play."

"How long did this go on for?"

"Luckily it only lasted a month or so. Eventually the programs became less rigorous and we could enjoy ourselves. I was still a bit shaken about my level of playing. I thought that if I was going to be a really top notch musician I should have been able to weather all that extreme music much better."

"When did you meet up again with Colin?"

"It was not long after he got back from his tour. That January was particularly frigid. It reminded me of the winters of my childhood. It took some effort to find a date and time we could meet that fit both of our schedules. It was his schedule primarily that made it tricky, I had a lighter playing schedule with the orchestra during January. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop on the outskirts of downtown. I was a regular there and recommended it."

Anne sat at a corner table, near the fireplace, with an obscenely large mocha drink containing three shots of espresso. If only one thing was for certain, it was that she was not going to sleep well that evening. The excitement of the unknown was gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Would he show up, or would he stand her up? There was no way for her to know for certain; one can't base their decision on the character of a person based on a string of e-mail correspondences. She read from a free local newspaper she had gotten off the rack by the front door of the coffee shop. As usual she had arrived much too early, a fact that could only add tension to her increasing sense of unease. The little bohemian coffee shop pumped soft jazz music into the background that married with the scent of freshly ground coffee.
While reading an article about the local music scene, she spotted Colin from the corner of her eye. He stood for a moment just inside the door, the lighting of the coffee shop eloquently enhancing his handsome countenance and golden hair. His cheeks had a rosy tint left over from the deep frost of January. Their eyes met and he smiled as he walked across the room to meet her.

"Anne, it's good to see you again." He put his coat over the back of the chair and sat.

"Its good to see you too. I was worried for a minute you wouldn't recognize me."

"I never forget a face. I better order something or the barista will giving me dirty looks. What do you recommend?"

"Well, I personally am a sucker for anything mocha. Everything here is good, but a word to the wise: if you skip on the frilly drinks you'll save yourself a few dollars."

"I'll keep that in mind."
He came back to the table with mug in hand.

"Just plain coffee?"

"Yes. I decided to go without the frills tonight. So, how are you?"

"I'm doing well. I'm still plugging away at my orchestra job."

"You make it sound like you're not having any fun."

"Lately it hasn't been very much fun. The last several visiting conductors have pushed heavy 20th century repertoire on us. Playing 12-tone pieces every week takes its toll."

"I think I found that out when I took an all Schoenberg class in college. I'll never make that mistake again." The two laughed knowingly. "Orchestral stuff aside, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Hmm, where to begin?"

Part 6

2004-11-02T01:44:00.000-06:00

We talked for a long time that night. When the evening was over we exchanged business cards discreetly. He said that I should contact him using the e-mail address because he was gone touring so often, and he checked his e-mail regularly. I was completely beside myself."
"And did you both begin communicating by e-mail?"
"Yes. I sent the first letter. It was short and only asked how he was and how his tour was going. I didn't want to scare him off by asking too many serious questions, but I did ask him when he would be back in town again."

Colin,
The orchestra has the weekend off and I thought I'd take this opportunity to write to you. How is the tour going? I hope it hasn't been too grueling and that you're doing well. Let me know when you'll be back in Chicago. It would be wonderful to talk to you again in person.

Sincerely,
Anne

"Did he write back soon after your first e-mail?"
"I didn't expect him to respond to it right away. I was surprised when I got an e-mail back the next morning. I was also surprised because he is really quite an eloquent writer."

"What was the e-mail he sent to you like? Was it lengthy?"
"It was. He wrote back to me all about his tour. It was a very entertaining letter."

Anne,
I am glad you found time away from your most likely busy schedule to write to me. I was lucky to find a few moments of extra time during all this touring to write back, though it is all due to a very unfortunate event, which I hope you don't mind me telling to you. This week I was engaged to play a series of concerts with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. The evening before I arrived in Leipzig the orchestra had a banquet in honor of several wealthy donors. I was asleep on a red eye from London when my cell phone woke me up. It was the conductor's wife, calling to inform me that he had fallen ill and would not be conducting the concerts, instead the assistant conductor would be doing the job. I had no problem with all of this because you come and go between dozens of conductors when you are on the road anyway. I made it through the rest of the flight and to my hotel in Leipzig without giving the matter much thought. I had just put my things in the hotel room when I got a second phone call. This call was a great deal more frantic, and from the assistant conductor. From his speedy, broken English, I managed to decode the message that over half the orchestra had called in, sick as dogs, probably from tainted food at the banquet. He put the theater manager on the phone who told me there would be chaos when all of this would be announced to the three nights' worth of ticket holders. It was while the theater manager was delineating the consequences of the mini-epidemic that I had a spark of inspiration hit me. I told him that he was damn lucky, because I happened to have two Beethoven sonatas and several Chopin mazurkas memorized, as well as a copy of a Mozart sonata I had recently learned, ready to play. I agreed to do recitals each evening in lieu of canceling. I didn't have much time to put thought into the program order, so I came up with one off the top of my head that I thought might work. Within the hour the programs were all printed and announcements were made. Quite frankly, I was a little relieved to be doing a recital rather than an orchestral concert. The recitals aren't as lengthy as the regular concert schedule, and I don't have to spend as much time rehearsing, which is why I found time for this letter.
Rather than bore you with more details from my trip, I'll answer your question. I'll be back in Chicago on the 8th of January. I'm sure I'll be jet-lagged for at least a few days afterward. I hope everything is going smoothly back at the CSO, and that you are doing well. I look forward to seeing you when I get back.

Best,
Colin

"I think we wrote to each other a few more times while he was on the road. Meanwhile I was stressing out about my job with the orchestra."

Part 5

2004-11-01T15:37:00.000-06:00

'It looks like we've ordered the same thing'
'Oh, the cheesecake? Yes, I guess we both have a sweet tooth.'
'I don't think we've been formally introduced.'
'My name is Anne. I'm the assistant principal trumpeter. It's a pleasure to meet you.'
'The pleasure is all mine.'
'Thank you. I just wanted to say what a wonderful job you did this evening. It was truly amazing, especially the cadenza. I haven't heard that cadenza used before, did you write it yourself?"
"Thank you very much. I did write the cadenza. It was a project I was assigned during grad school. My professor actually liked it, so I've used it ever since when I play this concerto. How long have you been in the orchestra?'
'Almost a year. I auditioned for it straight out of grad school. I didn't expect to get in, but here I am.'
'That's great. I've always wondered what it's like to be a permanent member of an orchestra. I spend so much time traveling to play, it makes it difficult to get to know the groups I work with really well.'
'I'm still learning, myself. All the traveling must be exhausting.'
'It can be, especially when I go overseas. I like to tour in the US primarily. It's good to be back home in Chicago for a few days. When I'm here I can actually use my own piano.'
'Someone in the orchestra told me that you ship it everywhere you go.'
'Yeah, that rumor seems to have surfaced in recent years. Completely untrue. I could never afford to ship that thing all over the world. Plus you never know what's going to happen when you fly a piano somewhere. I don't know what I'd do if it got smashed going overseas. I've had that piano quite awhile.'
'It's a Bosendorfer, right?'
'It is. You must have really been paying attention to what I was doing up there, most musicians couldn't care less what piano I use.'
'I sneaked a peek at the name before rehearsal started.'
'I bought it while I was in Texas, after winning the Van Cliburn Competition. I wanted it because all the competitors hated it.'
'But why would you buy it if everyone hated it?'
'I didn't hate it, I loved it. The other competitors were complaining because they thought it was too touchy. They just couldn't get a feel for the keys. Most of them hated the way it responded. I connected with it instantly. It just felt right under my fingers. You must know how that feels, when you find an instrument that you love to play from the first moment you try it.'
'Yes.'
'Well I felt that from the moment I tried out that Bosendorfer. I believe that when you find something you are meant to be with, you just know it. It's that way with instruments and people.'
'I know exactly what you mean.'
Colin smiled and looked into her eyes with a penetrating gaze. He had such an ease in conversation and pleasant manner that it put her at ease. She had completely forgotten about her nerves.

Part 4

2004-10-27T13:52:00.000-05:00

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm not often drawn to people so instantly. Ever the cynic, I've learned to weigh all the empirical data before making a decision about anything, people included. But every once and awhile a person, a piece of music, a place, various unexpected things, will spark a reaction in me that I can't really explain. Colin was one of those people. Even though I thought I had no chance, I tried to make myself look especially nice for the evening. The orchestra dress code kept me from wearing anything especially flashy, which was probably for the best. I had just arrived backstage when Colin and our conductor breezed past me, discussing a few last minute details. I was about to go put my coat in my locker when the assistant conductor approached me.

'Tonight there will be an after concert dinner party for our guest artist and select members of the orchestra. Because the maestro has been so impressed by your playing, and because this is your first time filling in for the principal, you have been graciously invited. If you would like to go it is being held at the Chez Marseilles and there will be a limo pickup after the concert.'

'I'd be honored to attend.'

I was thrilled, which made it hard to focus on playing the music during the concert. Luckily, the trumpet parts weren't that difficult, otherwise I may have made a fool of myself."
"Is it common practice for the Chicago Symphony to take the soloists out for after concert parties in limos?"
"After parties, yes. But usually they are not taken by limo. They did all that because Colin had just agreed to cut several albums with the orchestra. The albums were expected to do very well because of his popularity. I think they were celebrating what would be a great financial gain for the ensemble.
After the concert I was extremely nervous. I managed to calm myself down by getting rid of all my expectations. That way if I didn't win him over it didn't matter. I also had the important task of talking to my conductor. As I mentioned before, there were also a few other musicians from the orchestra joining the party. There were a couple of the violinists, including the concert master as well as the principal horn player, whom I had always gotten along well with. It put me at ease to know he was coming along, at least I knew I could have a good time talking to him if all else failed. Colin was at the front of the entourage waiting to get in the limo, with the conductor talking up a storm next to him. I was at the end of the line talking to Mike, the horn player. I had already made up my mind that at the restaurant I would sit across the table from Colin.

Chez Marseilles is a beautiful restaurant. It was a little more posh than anywhere I ever ate, or still eat for that matter. I made my move and got the coveted seat across from Colin. The conductor had been talking to Colin since the limo ride and continued to do so even as we placed our orders. The concertmaster was sitting next to me and across from the conductor, which gave me hope. I knew that the conductor and the concertmaster were good friends and that, sooner or later, they would start their own conversation, leaving Colin free to talk to me. Once the food came, most of us ordered only small items or desert, things quieted down. I had ordered cheesecake, and started to slowly pick at it when Colin started up a conversation with me.

L,D, and M (Part 3)

2004-10-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

"It took me a long time to understand his "baby", which is its true nickname, by the way."

The man from the magazine interrupted her sprawling narrative for the first time to comment. "Yes I know. I read the entire interview your trumpet colleague was talking about.

"I've read it many times myself." Anne took another long sip from her coffee. "Anyway, I was just minding my own business, warming up toward the back of the stage when he walked on. Everyone else in the hall may well have just disappeared I was so captivated. He entered the stage with such gravitas, and was so handsome. He scanned the stage with those sparkling blue eyes of his and when they caught sight of mine momentarily, I couldn't do anything but smile dumbly. I knew others must have noticed how good looking he was in outer appearance, but there was something about the way he carried himself, in such a way that I can't even describe, that I was sure no one else had bothered to notice.
The conductor hadn't arrived yet, and the rehearsal wasn't scheduled to start for another 15 minutes, so all the musicians sat around chatting and warming up while he walked so enchantingly to the piano. I watched him play as best I could during the rehearsal. It was wonderful to watch, he concentrated so fully on what he was doing. I noticed that he seemed to be absorbing everything in the music, and everything going on around him; he would often smile to himself listening to the orchestra during the moments he didn't play. Needless to say, by the end of the rehearsal I had lost all nerve for approaching him."

"You've always been confident in your musical career, why not in this situation?"

"Music is one thing; men are something different all together," Anne smiled broadly "As I mentioned before, Colin was extremely handsome and therefore, I thought, completely out of my league. You've seen him, tall blonde haired and blue eyed with that well-proportioned kind face of his. I remember, later on, how he got so angry when the record company wanted him to do so many cover shoots for his albums. He wanted his albums to be sold by their musical merit, rather than with his looks. So, to return from my tangent, I watched him exit stage left that afternoon without uttering a single word to him.
To nurse my faltering ego, I convinced myself that he was probably a jerk anyway. Looks can be deceiving. Yet still, in the back of my mind there was the nagging thought that he might be something special."

L,D, and M (Part 2)

2004-10-26T01:27:00.000-05:00

Anne lit up with the memory and inhaled it with relish before answering. "Oh yes. I remember it as clearly as I can remember the C major scale. At the time I was the assistant principal trumpet player in the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. I won the job a little less than a year before, so I was fresh out of graduate school and just beginning to cut my teeth in the big leagues. That particular season the orchestra was doing a series of concerts with up and coming soloists. We had had guest artists from all over the world come to play with the orchestra. It was right in the middle of an icy November when I got a phone call from Larry, the principal trumpet player in the orchestra. He told me that he was sick and needed me to play the principal part in all the rehearsals and concerts that week.

I hadn't expected to go in to any rehearsals that week because the soloist was playing a piano concerto that only required two trumpet players, and I wasn't slated to be one of them. I was terribly nervous because this was the first time I had ever been asked to fill in for Larry. I learned the music as quickly as I could and got to symphony hall earlier than usual, because I was so nervous about the whole situation. In my rush to prepare, I hadn't even found out who the soloist was that week, so I had no idea who to expect. Mitchell, the other trumpet player in the concert, filled me in.

'So, it's Colin Bainbridge this week.'

'That's the pianist?'

'You mean you haven't heard of him?'

'No. Why, should I have?'

'He's done pretty well for himself after winning the Van Cliburn competition a couple of years ago, and then winning the Tchaikovsky competition. He made the cover of Gramophone magazine a few years ago.'

'Really? That must have been before I started subscribing. I don't recognize the name.'

'I have a few of his Beethoven recordings. I have to say, they really live up to all the hype he's been given. This should be a good couple of concerts.'

'Now I wish I didn't have to fill in. I won't be able to listen intently if I have to play.'

'Well, there really isn't much playing to do when it comes to Beethoven.'

'Good point.'

'You know, he had that piano shipped from his Chicago apartment. It's a Bosendorfer, one of those with the extra keys. I'm pretty sure in his Gramophone interview he called it his "baby".

'Odd. I hope he doesn't ship it everywhere with him. Some artists can be such prima donnas.'

"I laugh thinking about it now, but back then I thought 'Who would have that kind of affinity for a piano?'.

L,D, and M

2004-10-24T19:29:00.000-05:00

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss-"
"Please, call me Anne"
"Right. It's a pleasure to meet you, Anne."
"Likewise." Anne smiled a little before sitting down at her dining room table, just across from the young man from the magazine. Her smile faded into her black garb as she sat, a black cashmere turtle neck and black slacks. She wore a dark eye shadow from under which her brown eyes radiated a soft and tired glow, her long brown hair framing her soft features. She clutched her full mug of coffee as it steamed on the table top.
The man they had sent from the magazine to interview her looked to be no older than his mid-twenties, a little too thin framed for the suit he was wearing. His necktie was in tight Windsor knot and looked as though it might constrict the southward motion of his adam's apple as he swallowed. Presently he was shuffling through the contents of his attaché case for his voice recorder. He looked up at her with a nervous bout of laughter and said "I could have sworn I had this organized this morning. Sorry about the delay."
"That's quite all right. No rush" Anne blew the steam from her coffee before taking a sip.
"Aha!" He said, retrieving the small, silver rectangular device from his bag, "I found it, at the very bottom of the bag, of course." He chuckled again, in the same nervous fashion. He flipped the switch on the machine and readied his notes. Once the recorder was started, the man from the magazine seemed to be in his element, he loosened his tie a little and spoke assuredly.
"Where should we begin?"
Soft-spoken and thoughtful, Anne raised an eyebrow at his question, "From the beginning, I should think."
"Just checking. Sometimes people want to start with the present day stuff. Do you remember the first time that you and Colin met?"