"Some of my friends are having a party," he said, "would you like to come along?"
"Of course," I immediately replied.
Some "party!"
When we arrived at the apartment, we traded our shoes for slippers (Russian style), and proceeded to the living room. Soon thereafter, three of the guests stepped forward, one with a violin, another with a cello, and the third sat at the grand piano, whereupon they began to play a Bach trio sonata -- supremely well. That was followed by a Brahms Cello sonata. Failing to hear a single wrong note, we settled back and enjoyed the performance, confident that Brahms was in very good hands.
To close the recital, a tall and angular young man (he couldn't have been more than thirty) picked up his violin, grinned at his pianist and the audience, and proceeded to dive into the devilishly difficult "Sziganne" by Ravel. He clearly believed that he was equal to the task, and immediately proved to the rest of us that he was indeed. Brilliant, dazzling, yet completely under control.
Ravel would have been pleased.
And then, midway through the second movement, a string broke. With scarcely a lost beat, the violinist attempted to continue by re-fingering ad lib on the remaining three strings. However, he soon realized that this was hopeless.
He then searched his case for a spare string. There was none. And so, sadly, the recital came to an abrupt end.
Think of it! All that talent, and not enough spare change to afford an extra set of strings!
There were no night clubs in this city of eight million, affordable to these young proletarians. The Bolshoi Theater and Tchaikovsky Concert Hall were closed for the summer. What was one to do for an evening? "Why, let's have a recital at our apartment!"
And so a few friends got together in a private apartment, and put together a recital of a quality worthy of the stage of Carnegie Hall.
I've been to innumerable parties in the States, far more of them forgotten than remembered. This is one "party" I will never forget.
The scene shifts nine years later to Saratov, a regional capital on the Volga River.
Our hosts, the Russian Chapter of the International Society for Ecological Economics, arranged for us to attend a performance of Mozart's "Marriage of Figaro" at the city Opera House. The orchestra, though not the caliber of those young Moscow recitalists, performed capably. The cast, however, was inspired and inspiring. Fully aware that the this was a "comic opera," they were entirely in control and clearly having a rollicking good time of it.
"Suzanna" was a stunner! A gorgeous raven-haired young woman, with a voice both sweet and strong. "Figaro" carried his "straight man" role with dignity amidst the horseplay. But "Count Almaviva" (coincidentally the Director and Manager) stole the show with his antics. A fine time was had by all.
The following night, the participants of the Saratov conference attended a banquet at an elegant pre-revolutionary mansion (the property of the city, of course).
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