"Let the beauty of what you love be what you do." Rumi
Hungary, on a December evening. It's saturday, I am working, this time in the Bela Bartok concert hall of the Budapest Palace of Arts. I've seen quite a few concerts halls already, but I can hardly find words to describe this architectural gem, feast for the eyes and delight for the ears. Everything here pays tribute to Art.
Whether you are seated on stage or in the audience, colours, shapes , atmosphere aspire and reach to pure harmony.
You can also be seated right behind the musicians, on a balcony, beneath this magnificent organ - ninety-two stops, five manuals, 6804 pipes - which building requested a three years joint effort of the GermanOrgelbau-Mulheisen, the Organ Building Manufacture Pecs, Gabor Zoboki, the leading architect of the Palace of Art, and numerous top-notch organists, musicians and acoustics specialists.
Here it is in images : http://mupa.hu/en/bartok-bela-nemzeti-hangversenyterem/
I had arrived the day before to this city I've always visited for what is both my work, and my pleasure - music. I had decided to take the bus from the Keleti train station to my hotel, which accidentaly , honoured the guest I had the luck to tour with by its (awkward) name - Flamenco hotel.
It was raining as I jumped out of the bus and hurried toward the hotel. I was nervous, like everytime I toured with new artists, and more this time because it was such a notorious guitarist.
When someone becomes famous, the person often disapears behind a great amount of stories. Good or bad, people talk about an individual that has crossed the line of accessibility. The more an artist goes high, the more he becomes an unpredictable person. And for me, as a bit of a control freak, working and engaging my professional word while contracting such a "mistery" could be a great experience but could also be just like opening a pandora box. Everything should go well, yet you know anything could go wrong - anytime.
No matter how much we had fun with the musicians the evening of their arrival to the hotel, the Damocles sword would hang above my head until the very moment when all artists are on stage.
Beside that, I had been twisted for some time, wondering if my work with music with all its difficulties was worth sticking to it. The great question that is always coming back: am I going the right way? And I had decided this concert had to give me the answer.
Back to the Bela Bartok hall on concert day. Soundcheck went smooth, everyone is relaxed and happy, everything flows. A large smile floats on my face since the evening before. The musicians were just as thrilled by the venue as I was, and when it was not musical notes, the air transported only laughter from the dim-lighted stage to the deserted audience where I was sitting. As everyone joined the backstage to get prepared, my colleague offered me to stay there during the show, so I could enjoy it from the audience as a spectator. I agreed, for it would be only the third time I could see and hear the maestro live.
The production staff gave me a complimentary ticket, and it was only when I got in the fully packed hall that I realised my seat was number twelve, like my birthday, and like the seat I had on my train to Budapest (sign?).
I took my seat in the middle of the row, chatted with my invited friends, the lights went down, the hall went quiet, el maestro came in, sat down and I found myself facing him in a direct line (sign?).
Subtle guitar tunes invaded my senses as he started to play a solo piece, and I could (or believe I could) see a shining aura around him. The pleasure lasted two hours. All musicians together in absolute harmony.
A friend of mine used to say, "once you see him play a concert, all you want to do afterwards is to kill yourself." I understand it.
I had another reaction though, after the concert I hugged the maestro and said "Thank you, thank you for reminding me so strongly why I do (and will) dedicate myself to promoting music."
Thank you Amigo Vicente, for washing away all the doubts about the path I have chosen, and this, with one single concert.
May I tour many more times with people like Vicente, who, backstage, showed as grand as the musician he is on stage, and may I thus contribute to bring people the same happiness I felt while listening to him.
May I always be sure I am letting the beauty of what I love be what I do.
And here come to my mind the words of another great mystic sufi poet.
"Come,
let's scatter roses and pour wine in the glass,
we'll shatter heaven's roof and lay a new foundation.
If sorrow raises armies to shed the blood of lovers,
I'll join the wine bearer so we can overthrow them.
With a sweet string at hand, play a sweet song, my friend,
so we can clap and sing a song and lose our heads in dancing."
Hafiz of Shiraz
