Sunday, January 31, 2010


Once my father yelled at me: : "Ayeshaaa, stop harassing that piano". I must have been 5 or 6 years old at that time, but i remember his anger and despair vividly. The poor man couldn't help himself, as he wasn't adjusted yet, to a daughter who clearly tried to find her own way in the rather rigid and dogmatic world of classical music. Same story in school, in church or the synagogue, during ballet lessons, well anyplace were people wanted me to comply with their rules and regulations. I hated all that, rebelled against it, and resisted it to exhaustion.

I love to play the piano and can spend hours caressing, fighting, and seducing a Steinway or Baldwin, to get out of them what i want. I manipulate, vary, reorganize, and violate the work of famous composers, taking possession of their souls, and bring them to life again. I'm still here, but via the piano, i communicate with them in the afterlife, taking their work to a higher level, into a different dimension, making it better. More or less what i occasionally do with Nanshakh's drawings, of which there's an example on top of this blog. His original was in black and white.

What i want, is to unite with the piano and the composer, in one orgiastic threesome. Same story when on horseback, having a sexual encounter, dressing up in leather, or having a meal. I want to unite, physically and mentally, with whoever or whatever i'm involved with. The degree to which this actually happens varies of cors, depending heavily on the mood i'm in. But my passion for it, is always there. U should see me eating a strawberry, lol.

In fact, i'm not playing the piano, i'm dominating the thing.

As the years passed, i became a mother myself. My daughter is a grown up now, living her own life, and is as crazy about the piano as i am. In contrast to my own youth, i kept piano teachers far from her. All i did was encouraging her to touch it, to enjoy the music she got out of it, and to enslave it. When she's visiting me, we test each other: Who's the best at the piano. It's almost a ritual. We dress for the occasion, as if it were a public recital. We love to wear contrasting colors. If i would be in black velvet, silver jewelry, and red heels, her choice could be, off white leather, black pearls, and matching boots. Add to this a room with only candlelight, et voilà, the perfect setting to collide. We compete vigorously, each time convinced that in the end, there only can be one. How wrong we r, cos in the end the 2 of us unite too, in one passionate 4-hand, communicating on a different level, and wiping away any distance between us, or whatever is left from our silly competition. It's very intense, and strengthening the bond between us over and over again. It's a very sweaty affair too, and we desperately need to shower when our musical hurricane came to a rest.

There must be positive chemistry between me and a composer. Like i have with Chopin. Otherwise i refuse to play his/her music. This not only depends on the music itself. For instance, there was a time i adored Franz Liszt, till i learned about his anti-semitism. I loved to play him, as most of his works were challenging to me, asking from me all that i got. It hurt to let him go. Very much so. For me there's no middle road tho. I'll never play him again, although his hate for the Jews was by far not as virulent as Wagner's, who on top of that hated women, or rather, was afraid of them, as is displayed in all his works, were women (mostly) die a fatal death. Same story when it comes to art, and especially poetry. Once i find out an artist's personality is contaminated with xenophobia, fascism, or related filth, it's over.

I selected 3 videos of women who i believe possess the passion i was talking about. Do not only listen to the music, but observe their body language as well.
's a fourth one.

Et une autre.........tralalalala.

Y mas

En verdomd astnie waar is....hier ister nog eentje, hehehe


  1. I give them a chance. I wait. Where are the pianists? Where are the perverts? Where are those who think the author of this blog should change her name to Modesty Humbleways?

    They are not here. So once again, Ms. Fonseca: May I?

    Do you really mean to say that you sat down to play, without him having finished your boots? And now he's here, disturbing? Surely it's just a little warming up. Now let's get them boots on, shall we?

    The sound underneath your grand piano must be a blast. When you work those low octaves with your precise attacks - I bet that will make an impact to be felt in the torso! And those high, crystal notes will no doubt tickle like ice in the spine. And how about those chords and runs in the middle octaves, hm?

    And if we couple the imposing sound with the sight of those legs, those feet, working the pedals... Are we starting to get an idea?

    So how do you best keep someone's attention throughout a demanding piece? For sure, I cannot picture a person down there in less than strict restraints. Maybe you even strap him firmly to the legs of the instrument. Maybe you have some special arrangement, one that we cannot imagine? There was something in the last blog; "Bound in strict leather, chained to the floor." Can somebody help out here? I've done my part.

    Nanshakh; do you already have this one in your portfolio? The bird is in the air again, it belongs to whoever catches it.

    Thanks for a great blog!

    Now, people, go back and watch those videos again. Do you get it this time?

  2. When i'm uniting with my piano, there's no room for anybody else 'down there', or any other place near by. As far as i'm concerned, during those fine hours, everybody can rot in what ever place they'd prefer.

    Exceptions? Sure. #1 Pandora. #2 Anita, Minerva, Alejandra, and of cors Lucinda. And sometimes Steel. It's nice to have an audience once in a while, y'know?

  3. 'Down there' could also be harmful to the hearing, and that would be bad use of the piano. So best left to fantasy it may be. But I AM serious about the blog. And all three videos are super! Look at Marha Argerich's assault, and the way she's up on her feet BEFORE she finishes the piece, ha-ha!

  4. Could you please delete that, and let me put it up again with her name correctly spelled? Please?

  5. Nope. I leave it there for all to see.

  6. Btw, were u ever at a Verbier event?

  7. Ha-ha! You must be confusing me with someone. If you only knew what a primitive being you are talking to! I couldn't tell a sonata from a symphony.

  8. Oh my, u mean that? U can't? Well that's ok, u hear. Don't worry about it! But tell me, which one of those do u prefer?

  9. You chose three that are quite different, and equally good, didn't you? I'm happy to have had the chance to see this. So I would be hard pressed to compare, and exclude two. They can trigger a lot of different... feelings, all of them.

    Let's give it to South America, then? And let me get my hands on the person that COUGHED, the second time she did that delicious left-hand "(um)-bop, (um)-bop, (um)-bop..."

  10. How bout the 4th 1 huh? Even with the glitch she's superb, don't u think?

  11. I hadn't even noticed a glitch in the fourth one. I took it the director intended it that way. She is of course the real winner. It seems like there's one more for South America.

  12. Mon cher, elle est née à Tbilissi en Géorgie!

  13. You are changing the blogs after I comment. How fair is that? You know which fourth video I was talking about!

  14. Hmmmm, seems i don't know tho. The fourth one was from the beginning from my sweet genius Elisso.

    Fair? Now there u have one vanilla concept i dumped into the toilet a long time ago,

  15. Well, it seems I was being a little unfair to you, he-he. The video must have been there, of course. I made a slip-up here! I didn't notice you had put up a fourth one, and I answered a question I hadn't understood, sorry about that confusion. It's funny how I always feel a bit tense when I come in here.

    I'll have a look at your sweet genius, but I definitely have given what I had on this subject. And the place looks more like YouTube than Ayesha's Saudade right now.

    Fair in the bucket? Oh, no need to tell. Why should you bother about such things in your world? Much more comfortable to let the moods rule. Only fools expect fair behaviour from a female. It's fun when it happens, but as a rule? ... That stuff I wrote about codes and rules in the wolfpack was of course aimed directly at you.

  16. Fair belongs to market affairs, where people r trying to get their fair share, and to get it, use all kinds of techniques, like cheating, manipulating, sweet talking, bribing, and corrupting. I had my unfair share of that when building my businesses, and alienated all of them within 'That Place", as well as outside of it.

    Back to YouTube here. Isn't that Rachmaninoff piece something else huh? And the scenery in Madrid is certainly adding to the sensuality of my genius lady. When listening to Mitsuko, it's as if i feel her intensity and pain rushing through my veins.

  17. Those last three are everything you said. No need for me to add nothing, nor confirm their quality. Once again, I'm grateful for the opportunity to see these things. So those last two are both sonatas? Very powerful they both are.

    Nothing to add - The music is there. Just a couple of thoughts:

    Can you imagine those in the audience that were there just to be there, when Mitsuko Uchida gave them that six-minute test, ha-ha! How do you put on the 'correct' expression and body language in such a silence? SHE doesn't have to worry about that, she's in it for the music!

    She has a tremendous sense of timing! And what a touch she has! In a piece so open and revealing. Total devastation, she took no prisoners.

    So you like this Rachmaninoff? With its fury, moods, chaos, unpredictability, arrogance and... sexy keywork. I'm so surprised.

  18. Yes i thought u would be.

    Like i wrote in the blog itself, it's the interaction between the composer and the performer which makes the difference. If it's intense enough, two souls unite, creating one superb new Gestalt. When i'm playing Rachmaninoff, i take possession of him, ordering him to invade my body and directing my hands to synchronize with his emotions when he was composing his music.

  19. Here's a comment from a man, calling himself Anton, and who was close to Elizabeth (see my blog "A Flame no more"), who seems to be unable to get his comments through. Every time he tries, his comment vanishes in thin air, lol. So he sent it to me in private.

    Here it is:

    "I read with particular interest your blog on the piano, being an ardent music lover myself. I differ only in my preferences towards piano makers: I'd die to have a Bosendorfer (it's the one played by Valentina Lisitsa) in place of a Steinway, but I can understand perfectly your need to become one with the composer; that's what most of the greatest artists try to do, more or less successfully, even if sometimes they are harshly criticised, as it happened with Stokowski and Gulda. The thing that baffles me, however, is that you say you often duet with your daughter, 2 or 4 hands, and I can believe that, because you've studied music and it's easy for you do that...But, you also say you've kept her far from any teacher, letting her just “touch” the piano. The question is spontaneous: If she doesn't know music, how can she play with you a classical piece? "

  20. U mean she can't know music ,cos there was no teacher around? Hahaha, good one. Let me tell u a story from one of the best and original artists i know.

    I met him when he was in his teens. His parents enrolled him in one of the best art schools in Europe. The lad refused to go. Reason? He didn’t want to be exposed to all kinds of techniques that would/could spoil his creativity, originality, and passion to do things on his own. So how turned this out, what did he do? He experimented, he studied on his own, only selecting material he thought his passion could benefit from, etc etc. He didn’t bother about trends in art. He couldn’t care less about the establishment. He laughed at so called schools in painting. He travelled the world, and absorbed the art of many cultures, he fed on them like a vampire sucks blood. He painted what his passion drove him to. And I supported him. And his parents hated me. And now......his paintings leave me in awe.

    There was another lad. He came from a family blessed with artistic blessings. He had a brother, who had the best teachers money can buy, and played the piano virtuoso. This brother was really good. That good, that he built himself a special house just for his piano. Fabulous. The lad i was referring to, never went to any school. He was just goofing off. He also got depressed at times. He was considered an outcast, a drop out, a nobody. But when he was at the piano, he was beyond the divine, and made his brother’s performance look lame and clumsy.

    Oh and for my daughter? That rebellious creature, who never wanted to listen to the ‘wise’ words of legions of obsessive ‘grown-ups’ circling around her? Ah, she played the piano nevertheless. Besides, i was around as well. u know. Oh, she an expert on kick boxing too, lol.

    As for the Bösendorfer? I’ll get me one.