"are you a flexible person?" when my piano teacher dredges out the big questions, I know I'm in trouble. my answer should reflect deep thought, intelligence, and above all, a thorough understanding of all things musical.
"why can't you practice right?" she wails. "and why are you still playing this measure wrong?" I'm not entirely sure, though it may have something to do with the fact that five-note chords, when played fortissimo and agitato, have a tendency to mutate and create a 'sound' that bears little resemblance to what brahms intended. I find this amusing. she does not.
"play! play! why are you stopping?" so I play. I play almost six measures, but disaster strikes again. "stop that! left hand!" she bats at the delinquent hand for emphasis. unfortunately, I have not yet mastered the art of jumping two octaves with a lead weight on my fingers. my eardrums start to tingle.
"the tone is all wrong."
"you've never played brahms before, have you?"
"it almost sounds like a monster. not quite, but almost."
brahms may be rolling over in his grave tonight. but then, if you were to write a rhapsody with more notes per beat than torontonians per square mile, what would you expect?