Remy. Already Mischaâs face was reddening; he always blushed when put on the spot. When Remy signaled that she was ready, they began to play.
It wasnât at all bad. Remy found she was enjoying herself even as she concentrated on learning the notes, and as she approached the final measure of the first page, and saw Lesserâs hand reach out to turn it, was even able to relax a bit.
But Lesser did not turn the page.
âTurn, please!â Remy whispered as he held the page down with his fingerâyet she continued, to her own surprise, to play. âPlease turn!â she said again, with no notes before her, yet she was still playing her part, correctly it seemed, continuing the thematic precedent she must have already absorbed; the piece followed set patterns that she had already, she realized, internalized.
When Lesser at last turned the page, Remy searched hurriedly for the correct measure. Only when she found it did her pulse stop racing. But when, at the third page, she reached the bottom staves, and it was time to turn again, Lesser knocked the music off the stand.
Remy nearly stopped playing. She wanted to kick Lesser, to curse himâbut she continued, to her surprise, to play. By now she understood the main themes well enough to briefly improvise. Meanwhile Lesser bent down slowly, picked up the sheet music, and returned it to the music stand.
For the rest of the piece, he did not meddle with the pages. When it was over, Remy glared at him, as the other students laughed and applauded with relief. Lesser gave a catlike smile and said, âAlways be prepared for the unexpected.â
Remy wished he had made this point using Mischa instead.
âAnything might happen while you perform,â he told the class. âYour string might become loose, or the pianist makes a mistake, orââhe looked at Remyââyour music gets blown off by a breeze. Perhaps you forget, for a moment, what youâve memorized. We never know, my friends, what life might toss at us.â
He nodded, and his ears seemed momentarily larger. âNot only must you be able to continue, but you must not be afraid of such things.â To Remy he said, âMy dear, you are learning to play without fear.â
And when she headed home from class, exhausted, Remy wondered if it might somehow be possible that she could begin to lead her life, too, fearlessly.
Chapter 5
B esides the master class and her job at the library, Remy had joined a quartet that made good money at weddings (an opportunity that came by chance, when the second violinist moved to Connecticut). They often played two or three events in a weekend, and so the summer seemed to pass even more quickly.
She was working up her physical stamina, from the swimming, and had begun to look forward to those sessions in the water, the one point during her day where she could let her body fully release. She took one lesson each week and on other days swam laps. At first she had done so just three days per week, as Lesser had suggested, but very quickly she had begun to crave those sessions in the pool, where she could switch her mind off and just glide through the water. Her body felt both stronger and lighter, as if it had been stretched. There was also the fact that, as Lesser must have known would happen, the regime of hard work, physical exertion, and mental relaxation seemed to have created the intended effect: Remy was improving.
Her nights off were generally quiet. One evening in July, as she lay on the couch flipping through her roommate Sandyâs Cosmo, aware that the summer was already half over, Remy felt suddenly glum, that she was home alone (Sandy was attending a night course) perusing the thin, inconsequential pages of a magazine instead of doing something exciting.
The previous weekâs heat wave had broken, and there was a light, cool breeze. A perfect evening to be out with friends, at a dance club or just out somewhere.
It wasnât at all bad. Remy found she was enjoying herself even as she concentrated on learning the notes, and as she approached the final measure of the first page, and saw Lesserâs hand reach out to turn it, was even able to relax a bit.
But Lesser did not turn the page.
âTurn, please!â Remy whispered as he held the page down with his fingerâyet she continued, to her own surprise, to play. âPlease turn!â she said again, with no notes before her, yet she was still playing her part, correctly it seemed, continuing the thematic precedent she must have already absorbed; the piece followed set patterns that she had already, she realized, internalized.
When Lesser at last turned the page, Remy searched hurriedly for the correct measure. Only when she found it did her pulse stop racing. But when, at the third page, she reached the bottom staves, and it was time to turn again, Lesser knocked the music off the stand.
Remy nearly stopped playing. She wanted to kick Lesser, to curse himâbut she continued, to her surprise, to play. By now she understood the main themes well enough to briefly improvise. Meanwhile Lesser bent down slowly, picked up the sheet music, and returned it to the music stand.
For the rest of the piece, he did not meddle with the pages. When it was over, Remy glared at him, as the other students laughed and applauded with relief. Lesser gave a catlike smile and said, âAlways be prepared for the unexpected.â
Remy wished he had made this point using Mischa instead.
âAnything might happen while you perform,â he told the class. âYour string might become loose, or the pianist makes a mistake, orââhe looked at Remyââyour music gets blown off by a breeze. Perhaps you forget, for a moment, what youâve memorized. We never know, my friends, what life might toss at us.â
He nodded, and his ears seemed momentarily larger. âNot only must you be able to continue, but you must not be afraid of such things.â To Remy he said, âMy dear, you are learning to play without fear.â
And when she headed home from class, exhausted, Remy wondered if it might somehow be possible that she could begin to lead her life, too, fearlessly.
Chapter 5
B esides the master class and her job at the library, Remy had joined a quartet that made good money at weddings (an opportunity that came by chance, when the second violinist moved to Connecticut). They often played two or three events in a weekend, and so the summer seemed to pass even more quickly.
She was working up her physical stamina, from the swimming, and had begun to look forward to those sessions in the water, the one point during her day where she could let her body fully release. She took one lesson each week and on other days swam laps. At first she had done so just three days per week, as Lesser had suggested, but very quickly she had begun to crave those sessions in the pool, where she could switch her mind off and just glide through the water. Her body felt both stronger and lighter, as if it had been stretched. There was also the fact that, as Lesser must have known would happen, the regime of hard work, physical exertion, and mental relaxation seemed to have created the intended effect: Remy was improving.
Her nights off were generally quiet. One evening in July, as she lay on the couch flipping through her roommate Sandyâs Cosmo, aware that the summer was already half over, Remy felt suddenly glum, that she was home alone (Sandy was attending a night course) perusing the thin, inconsequential pages of a magazine instead of doing something exciting.
The previous weekâs heat wave had broken, and there was a light, cool breeze. A perfect evening to be out with friends, at a dance club or just out somewhere.