I just watched a video documentary on youtube which sparkled many thoughts in my already swirling head.
People with autism or various neurological disorders sometimes may possess great phenomenal talent or incredible affinity for something) and these people are known to have the Savant Syndrome. In this case, (or video) musical genius Derek Paravincini is one. [video link:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kwjDLHX92w]. This man in his middle twenties is BLIND, and suffers disorders. He cannot count to ten, and struggle with the basic stuff that we all find easy. YET he can remember every single piece of music, and is able to reproduce it on the piano. You might mistake him for another prodigy hoax (some blind person goes up stage and play a badly messed Fantasie Impromptu, sounds familiar), but nope. this is the real deal. He has some technical competency to play The Flight of the bumblebee. He pulls off many stunts.
1) He could reproduce a highly complex musical piece having it heard only once.
2) Neurological study (from brain sensors) somewhat showed that he sensed every single wrong note in audio being played to him with deliberate mistakes. (yes, every single one showed a sudden sparkle of brain activity showing that he realized it)
3) He accompanies a violinist with spontaneous improvisation which is a flawless and creative.
4) He could compliment an orchestra by simulating the sounds he heard from ALL the instruments with arpeggios which go up and forth with different notes to express everything he heard. What a feat!
5) He could identify a clashing 10 note being banged on a chord and reproduce it at ease.
6) He remembers everything he hears.
I actually feel a tinge of envy when I was watching, while of course clapping my hands and stomping my feet in excitement. Shock, awe. Because it actually speaks and haunts me just like any other thing. I'm supposed to play for Worship this Friday and not only I am incompetent and inexperienced, this is the first ever time I'm exposed to chords and playing an accompaniment. The reason why I say suppose to is because have half a mind to back out. At most, I am a classical person (note: I did not say pianist here) who learns by reading rigid scores and plays note to note while syncing the left hand and right hand together through meticulous practice and repetition. Surely I am not supposed to know when the chord is supposed to just change out of nowhere.
The flimsy piece of paper or the pseudo score is something like lyrics with some alphabets written on it. It is actually the full instruction manual to playing something like that. This is no easy feat for me. Because the instruction manual had forgotten to say something like "genius not included. sold separately ". Initially I thought that the words are put in line with where the chord changes but I was in for a big surprise. No, they change accordingly sometimes to when they are supposed to change. And when is that? There is really no explanation that anyone can give me except "when they feel like it changed". Is this something that everyone has, and I'm just missing out something here?
And yes. Playing melodies by ear. I can't freaking do that. Why, because I am a semi genius as Jasmine put it. I can mistake A flat for A sometimes and I only get tones right like 80% of the time. This shows I am not born with something legendary known as perfect pitch. Mozart transcribed orchestrated piece (spanning more than an hour) note for note after having heard it once. And so why so I struggle with the simplest of worship songs. Incompetency?
Now, people say I'm gifted when I run on the keyboard only after two years. I have shocked most people whom have heard this two years thing of mine. La Campanella is difficult really, even considered virtuosic by virtuosos and so I certainly do require a certain amount of talent to play these. Even Chopin Etudes are no easy feat though I don't play them exactly up to a desired standard YET. But still, I always believed you either have it, or you don't. Not freaking only having half of the whole biscuit.
I'm always wavering. Solely surviving on passion which is about to withstand the trials of time and isolation. Maybe two years down the road, I will be a new person. I will not meddle with fire anymore lest I get burn. I will not attempt any transcendental material. Maybe I will be flying kite somewhere (a less pressurizing hobby perhaps). Everything, in the name of a hobby. Why do I aspire to play Liszt's Feux Follets or Rachmaninoff Concertos someday. Why can people sit down and listen to a piece without feeling the inevitable fire to sit down and start learning the piece? So even if I had managed to finish all Chopin etudes and Liszt transcendentals maybe by age twenty five so what. I will never be there because I started too late. Maybe even if I started early I might not have enough "raw material". Evgeny Kissin started piano at age two, and at one a half years he was already humming Beethoven's Rage over the lost penny which he heard his sister playing. At age two, I was even incompetent at sucking my own thumb.
Maybe the battle here is with myself. not to compete too much with what I aspire to be. I did not exactly intend treat whatever so seriously but when it comes to passion I can go a little overboard. Obsessive. or too serious. This is what it means to me. Many people have told me to go, go and serve. But it is not the unwillingness but the incompetency. Really. Look how I struggle with simple chords and my lacking aural abilities. I think, even in what I think I'm good at, I'm only good at half of it. and because of it, I'm assumed to inherently possess everything.
Now, now. When I was younger. I remember there was this tuition class where I went to. I was maybe six, seven at that time. Maybe slightly older. The head of the tuition teacher, during the parent-teacher session had made a remark that got me thinking at that tender age and I still remember it till today. He said " Oh Mr and mrs so and so, your son is very easy going. Happy go lucky. " and he smiled. An Indian man I still remember. And that point, I was thinking " is it really good to be happy go lucky". Till today, many people still perceive me this way but if you get to know me better you will realize how difficult I am as a person. My lofty standards for things which aren't supposed to be so high. Though I may appear languid, heck-care, nonchalant or whatever you name it. I think I am starting to develop a perfectionist character. Moving forward, yet putting enough friction between willingness and unwillingness to generate enough heat for conflict. Till today. I just think that sleeping in class, not handing homework does not make one nonchalant, not perfectionist, or worst, immature. I just happen to see things very differently, every time. I wonder why.
Somehow I feel that whatever I am feeling now is just the urge to create emotional drama. Life is surprisingly and disturbingly peaceful nowadays. I have to provoke myself at even the tiniest of things to invoke a kind of emotional satisfaction. When you introspect, you reflect under the moonlight, under the effect that melancholic ambiance of the night, is where somehow you feel at ease. You feel soothed, and relaxed by feeling sad. I don't know, I always get that feeling. Comparing myself with prodigies make me feel sad. Inspired, but sad. Not many things survive relativity, let alone people.
The stupidest thing of all. I can feel inspired one moment, then discouraged the next and this repeats about ten or so times a day. I really cannot endure this sinusoidal torment.
No comments:
Post a Comment