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Vol. XVII No. 3 November 2001 |
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Inside the Mind of a Van Cliburn Contestant (continued) Vassily Primakov, a fourth-year piano student of Jerome Lowenthal, was a semifinalist in the 11th Van Cliburn Competition held last spring in Fort Worth, Tex. We continue his diary excerpts here. May 26: Morning started with a very good breakfast at the club of my hosts, followed by shopping. I love shopping and Fort Worth has some nice shopping malls. I find shopping relaxing, makes me forget all the worries…and enjoy it! Afterward, lunch, practicing, and rest. May 27: A day before my first performance. My hosts and I went to the Mexican restaurant for lunch. The crew that is creating a documentary followed us to film the way I eat—very romantic! But, the food was great and we spent a lovely afternoon.
Evening: Sitting in my room, collecting all my thoughts—I call it “Cleaning Time.” I throw away all unnecessary thoughts out of my head and leave it “empty” for tomorrow—only Schubert, Beethoven, and Chopin will occupy it from now on ’til the last bar of my performance tomorrow. My program for tomorrow is:
Schubert: 12 Ländlers
Fifty minutes of divine music. With this thought I’m off to bed. The only thing that worries me is the cold that I’m getting. Hope that it will be gone tomorrow. May 28: All right, the cold is not gone; in fact it’s getting worse. I will not think about it today, I will think about it tomorrow. Jesus! I sound like Scarlett O’Hara. Maybe it’s not such a good idea for me to write a journal.
Today is the day of rest. I never really practice the day I have to play. I rest, sit in my room and try not to talk to anyone. My hosts understand. It is not the first time they host a pianist for this competition—they have experience called “how to deal with a pianist.” After a brief warm-up and light dinner, Debbie, Don, and I are off to the Bass Hall, where in about one hour and 30 minutes I will enter the stage. Thirty minutes later: Arrived, changed into my tux and waiting. I love this part—when all is forgotten: It’s just you, your music, and the audience. In about 25 minutes I’ll start. The only problem is the cough—quite annoying. Well, I must concentrate. See ya! Evening, after performance: About my performance—went well, could have been better. I always feel this way. My own criticism will kill me. Thought that the Beethoven had its ups and downs, the last movement wasn’t too hot, Chopin was O.K., a bit messy in the last movement and the first movement was too rational. Overall, I’m satisfied, but not ecstatic. After the performance, cameras and photographers surrounded me, asking regular questions: “How do you feel, and do you think that you have a chance to advance to the semifinals?” On the first, my answer was simple, maybe too simple: “It was O.K.” Now I feel that maybe it was more than O.K. Too flat! My answer was too flat. Second question: No. I don’t think about what’s going to happen—if I will, I will, if I won’t, I won’t! May 29: The “torture” day. Morning is for reviews, evening for the results. Both are rather unpleasant things. While having breakfast, I read two reviews of my performance, in the Dallas Morning News and Fort Worth Plain Dealer. Not bad. “They liked me, they really liked me!” (I remember Sally Field with her infamous Oscar speech.) Seriously, they have written some nice words about me. However, I usually don’t pay too much attention to the reviews—it is always debatable… 10:30 p.m.: Announcement (coat and tie). Feeling quite confident, wearing a Donna Karan suit, I arrived to learn about the results (what a great commercial for Donna Karan!). Debbie is with me and very nervous. The moment of the announcement is always a torture—they start with the usual speeches, something like: “Oh, how great we are and how we are all going to have great careers…” Van Cliburn spoke, Richard Rodzinski spoke, Alan Sampson spoke, and… finally the chairman of the jury announced 12 semifinalists… me included! It happened at midnight. The rest was blurry. I was tired, the interviews were endless, by the time we got home it was 2 a.m. I just made a quick phone call—called my mom to tell her the good news and then passed out. May 30: 7:45 p.m. – 8:10 p.m.: Rehearsal on the piano. Asked them to look at the lower register and fix the lighting on stage. My first performance was a mess—stage was too dark (because of cameras on stage) and the house was so bright; not only could I see every person in the audience, it seemed like I was the audience and the audience was me. Anyway, they promised to fix it. P.S. Another problem has occurred. My hosts have a dog named Scooter (lovely dog) who has developed a fear of music and, of course, of me, for I am the one who practices all day long. The dog is shaking all day, afraid to come near me. My hosts have decided to take her to the vet tomorrow. I feel awful about it, although I have to admit that this is quite funny!
May 31: The day of my first semifinal performance. I am starting day one (’cause after they selected 12 pianists, I happened to be number 7, which starts the whole thing). Honestly, I’m thrilled to be no. 1 and I don’t care if it’ll affect my score. (You know, people say that the earlier you play, the easier it is for the jury to forget you—you never know). I start at 1:30 p.m. and will play a solo recital 75 minutes long: Schumann’s Carnaval, Debussy’s Suite Bergamasque Rachmaninoff’s Sonata No. 2, and Lowell Liebermann’s Three Impromptus. I’m a little tense about the Liebermann, having just learned it. The piece is barely holding up and I have no idea what’s going to happen on stage (not a common feeling for me). 7 p.m.: The performance went really well, much better than the previous one. I give it a B+. Feel almost happy and tired.
P.S. The dog visited the vet. He said that she is fine, her health is normal, just a little nervous because of music. Prescribed Valium twice a day. No comments…
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