[ 29 June 2009 ]
Very peculiar dream last night.
Dreamt I was visiting a friend in New York; or, more accurately, that I was playing part of a brief recital of my own music in New York, and my friend was at hand to assist.
I started to play Blue Shamrock. It’s a piece (a) which yields no time to turn pages, so you spread the music out on two or three stands, and you go; and (b) whose music goes by so quickly, that you practice it so that you’ve nearly memorized it, and the pages (which pass by mickle quickly) are more a visual ‘place-keeper’ than anything you are reading in real-time. That said (and this being a dream) I am playing the Shamrock, and I see the first two pages before me. An unseen hand removes those two pages for me; but now, instead of seeing the next two pages of the piece, they’re missing, and I see two pages of random newsprint. Of course, I just keep playing. (That has the look of a dream of anxiety, perhaps; but in fact, I rejoiced to react so quickly and smoothly to the surprise.)
I finish playing, and a “virtual acquaintance” (who in real life is actually a pianist) is about to play a piece of mine, running twenty minutes, for unaccompanied English horn. My New York friend shepherds me away to a Green Room while the recital proceeds; and thence directly to an empty hall, where I suppose there is going to be an informal reception at the recital’s conclusion. I ask if anyone is there to review the event, and my cell phone jingles (I never, never dream of my cell phone) to indicate that a text message has arrived . . . and of course my first thought is, if they've reviewed it this quickly, they must have been “typing” during the performance. Bad form.
Anyway, daftest dream I’ve had in an age.