The Pianist
One .. on 88 ..
was only one and he could do only one thing: to play a single note.
Not really the best for one who was born and had lived in the midst of scores, notes, sonatas and fugues. Yet notice that she could play really well! They said it all.
- that comes in E flat was fantastic! - Had said one night the director of the conservatory, and there was no need to add more.
Success was missing, and even the name several times he had played in theaters and different. After weighing had recorded an album, until one morning in January, decided to stop playing.
And then there was confusion everywhere, who saw it said it immediately to the other musicians, who at first did not give prominence to the news that was at least as cool water in summer. But when they went round and heard the silence that filled the huge auditorium and left just when he was playing his magical note darkened and became aware of the problem. He decided to stop doing what he could do better than any other and close in a melancholy silence. And that night should have been playing together most famous orchestra in the country.
But nobody cares, or would not know where to start.
While the crowd came a little man with a black hat and a raincoat with brown patches on the elbows. He went
kindly and asked those present to leave them alone.
- Why will not you play? - With these words began their conversation lasted barely half an hour.
the evening the hall was full of people of all backgrounds: there were those who wore designer clothes, there were those who carefully read the concert program by pointing to neighbor who had seemed risky to move a Kachaturian a Bach fugue, there were those who had come only to defend themselves from the rain.
Then came the pianist in a tuxedo jacket and a double tail and took center stage.
The applause accompanied the bow, then the lights slowly faded until it only remains so a spotlight to illuminate the keyboard, and half of the face of the artist.
There was a moment of silence that seemed a year, when suddenly the most beautiful flat I never played before. The purest, most crystal clear! He had played.
him, a small button. In the midst of a keyboard of 88 siblings.
Often when we lose a thing at first did not realize it, basically there are many others. But over time we realize one thing: there is music that you will never play without her. So we do not know what to do, we seek the causes, we study the remedies, but sometimes is the case to stop for a moment, a half hour, and see that the foundation of all there is a simple fracture, but whose consequences have spread. Once you get here, if both sides there is the will, it is easy to start over. And the sound will be twice as nice.
Quiet Morning On Utah Lake 
