The beauty


We were listening to the "ancient" recording of the 3rd concerto for piano of Prockofiev.

Having heard recently, quite a lot of young pianists' exceptonally brilliant competition videos of the same piece, our breath stopped still on listening to the familiar recording.

I used to own a music casset of it.

Then I had bought the one on a CD.

Then I lost it so I have bought it again.

In all, I had had three copies of Martha Argerich's same recording with Claudio Abbado, of 1967! And now I don't remember what has happened to my last copy.

It just came back through spotify.

It is like looking at a film, listening to a piano concerto.

Prokofiev 3rd is one of the most colourful, strange and yet quick to feel familier piano concertos: you just remember all the sequences because of the strong will to "story-telling" of the composer.

And the beauty of it!

For our ears.

As if it was a perfume, to hear.

As if it was food, for brain.

In itself a beauty often is ephemeral.

But when the beauty has touched us, it becomes eternal.

Crazy and magic state of love!


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