The Pianist

It was said that he had overlarge hands, laborer's hands, yet when he played eagles swam up waterfalls. No one knew where the music came from or the dexterity of those thick fingers. Slavic ghosts would weave and spin all night getting those finger-webs ready to spread far across a difficult score. Rachmaninov had a strong piano, unlike Beethoven, who occasionally broke his less stout keyboards. Beethoven's indominable will cut through acceptable norms with a buzz saw and a bulldozer. That Russian with his deep-set chords rained down upon us both sweetness and sorrow, the way a dark cloud in a desert often brings life. Melodies to break or mend, and to be thread through any listening ear.