Now that “the team” has regrouped and we live in the new house — the one with the keyboard — it is amazing to play again.  During the last week, especially with the intensity of the move, the only “practicing” in my life was having the sonatas on my ipod dinnertime play list.

This Saturday morning, two days after our Thursday move, our day began with a typical 6:30 am errand to pick up a skill saw rental at Home Depot (which opens at 7) for the contractor to create the subfloor for the new tiles.  One the way home we stopped for our second cup of coffee at 8 am at our favorite, the Well Cafe.

At the Cafe there’s always some background classical playing at such a low level that it barely registers at the back of my brain.  Once or twice a Brahms intermezzi floated past me, but mostly it goes unnoticed.

Today, however, I felt a huge wallop when I heard the Chopin Polonaises — perhaps because we were actually sitting down (rather than racing back and forth on construction errands).  First the Military got my attention, although I’ve never reallyed loved it that much.  Then I waited to see if Op. 53, the “Heroic Polonaise,” would be next, and sure enough, it was.

In high school and beyond, I more or less, thought of it as my unofficial “signature piece.”  It has all the spectacular flourishes that allow one to dazzle and, along with the Revolutionary Etude, I was completely crazy about playing it with wild abandon.

Poles (like me) Dancing the Polonaise

Beyond the pleasures of the piece itself, one of my life-altering musical moments, in fact, was listening for the first time to Horowitz’s recording of it.  Looking back, I think it was probably my first experience of hearing something that I was playing myself performed my a master.  Until then it had been mostly pieces from a progressive book series on learning the piano, rather than diving into easier pieces in the repertoire. Frankly, although very sweet and good-natured, my earliest piano teacher was at best moderately accomplished and really not up to the task of anything near the level of virtuosity required for a Polonaise.

Hearing Horowitz play it for the first time, was truly hearing the piece for the very first time.

The brilliance of his technique and the furious passion of his playing were astonishing to me.  Of course, I’d heard fabulous classical piano playing before–I have particularly fond memories of the Tchaikovsky piano concerto–but this was someone playing something I was playing at home, with music I could hold in my hands and follow along.  That level of access alone felt mind-blowing.

For the first time, I heard how all the passages that I was fumbling my way through were actually supposed to sound.  It was utterly inspiring and completely humbling all at once.

Today, in 2009, given that we live in an age of wonders, I was able to return home and download (FOR FREE!) the Polonaise score again.

This is music I honestly think I haven’t played in about five or ten years, even though in high school I thrilled myself with daily, exuberant performing/butchering it.

Although I may tackle the piece again — it’s always good to have something up your sleeve when the urge to show off is overwhelming — after clunking and splashing my way through all those massive chords and endless glissando rolls, I was glad once again to be mastering my beloved slow movements.

With the Chopin, I can create some big “effects” with jangles of wrong notes hidden from most listeners.  Even worst, I can try to fool myself that I can really play the piece because there are a lot of notes happening.  I’ve said it before here, but it was never more clear to me that there is just no hiding out in Mozart.  Everything is so exposed.

So right now, the Polonaise is like a big gooey dessert:  delightful, decadent, but definitely a distraction from the new regime.  Playing through five movements yesterday felt not only virtuous, but I heard how much cleaner, much much better my technique and my expression are in them.  No impressive faking!  Time to stay slow!