By ELIZABETH JOY ROE

Elizabeth Joy Roe (Photo by Peter Schaaf )

In a culture replete with iPods, BlackBerries, Xbox, MySpace, and YouTube (these catchy names make me wonder if the grammatical space will become obsolete), where technology governs our work time, play time, and everything in between, the meaning of personal interaction is undergoing an inexorable shift. Amid this array of gadgets and networks, we still might feel compelled to experience something live, in the moment, and unfiltered by technological trappings.

A concert can fulfill this desire. Simultaneously intimate and grand, basic and sophisticated, transient and indelible, it is an interactive event that serves our primordial need to be a part of something greater than ourselves and to collectively engage in a one-time-only occurrence. Within a span of roughly two hours, we are granted the opportunity to venture into the wilds of bygone or future eras, unknown lands, and—most intriguingly—the vast and complex internal universe of the composers and performers. A recital program has the unusual potential to encapsulate the polarities of the human experience: the mundane and surreal, cerebral and sensual, trivial and significant, fleeting and everlasting. In this way, a recital is akin to a book, movie, or television show in that it provides an escape from the obligations and complications of the everyday. Yet a recital at its best transcends literature, cinema, and TV in that there is no barrier of screen or page; the music is charged with a palpable energy that can transform the performer and the audience. Time is momentarily suspended, and in the end we are left in a state of new awareness, curiosity, and awe. Certainly, not all concerts are created equal: some are entertaining while others are more serious (and then there those special affairs that strike a satisfying balance between fun and substance!). Regardless, a live encounter with music ultimately affords us insight into what really affects, moves, and resonates with us.

For many years, I have subscribed to the motto "Only connect" (from E. M. Forster's great novel Howards End), especially when playing a concert. The recital is pregnant with manifold functions: the performer can provide a musical retrospective, serve as a conduit for the composer's voice, communicate personal reflections, and even unearth epiphanies of sorts. Whether onstage in the bracing spotlight or in the quiet dark of the audience, I inevitably notice the continuous process of expressing and absorbing, conveying and reacting. A performance is not a one-sided thing; it is a pliant conversation actively involving the player and listener. This visceral interchange at the nexus of the concert experience is why nothing can replace a live performance.

A recital is also a wonderful channel for stories, both imaginary and true. The music on my Petschek debut recital program this month carries narrative and symbolic significance. The Piano Sonata in F-sharp Minor by Johannes Brahms is one of the seminal compositions that jumpstarted his career and set the Schumanns afire; the passionate sensibility and overflowing creativity of the young Brahms are captured in the sonata's fervent spirit and generosity of vision. Richard Wagner's Isoldens Liebestod (transcribed for solo piano by Franz Liszt) is a rapturous account of a love unvanquished by death. Maurice Ravel's La valse is on the one hand a virtuosic apotheosis of the Viennese waltz and on the other a sinister, acerbic depiction of a culture collapsing into a vortex of destruction. Both the Liebestod and La valse epitomize the piano transcription and prove that the piano can be an orchestra on its own.

William Petschek Piano Debut Award Recital: Elizabeth Joy Roe Alice Tully Hall Thurs., April 19, 8 p.m. Please see the Calendar of Events for more information.

Furthermore, these works offer a window not only into the personae of the composers but into my very self. This particular program reveals my affinity for music that is intense, dark, and probing. It also reflects my diverse musical tastes and penchant for lesser-known works. I imagine that the entire program could work as an iTunes playlist: one minute I'm immersed in the mesmerizing soundscapes of Consolations by Ryan Anthony Francis (M.M. '05, composition), one of the most compelling composers of my generation, and the next I'm reveling in the folkloric charm of Bedrich Smetana's rarely played Czech Dances. This mix of old and new compositions on the program underscores my conviction that good music will produce an enduring impact, whether written two years ago or two centuries ago. In turn, context becomes paramount, and the juxtaposition of new and old leads to cogent discoveries: for instance, the pairing of music by John Corigliano and Brahms effectively highlights the underlying romanticism of the former and the radical nature of the latter. Most importantly, I possess a deep personal connection to each of the pieces on this program; I chose music that I love, and love to play. They are the kinds of pieces that seem to never grow old, only richer and more fascinating every time I approach them.

I am truly honored to be giving a recital in one of New York's finest halls on the eve of its exciting renovation. With this concert, I hope to pay tribute to my unforgettable Juilliard experience and to all the people who love music in this great city. Life is ever-changing, but the universal human condition has remained largely the same. Likewise, the trends of the music industry are constantly in flux, but music itself will always be absolutely essential to humanity. I hope to celebrate these paradoxes—and the infinite magic of piano music—in my upcoming recital.

Elizabeth Joy Roe earned both bachelor's (2004) and master's (2006) degrees in piano from Juilliard.