Solo Concert
La Scala
February 13, 1995
After the concert at La Scala, a small man in his sixties came backstage with what appeared to be several orchestral scores under his arm accompanied by a young relative (grandson? great nephew?). I thought the young man was probably a fan and had brought his relative (a musician, obviously) to see my concert; totally improvised piano concerts being relatively rare.
It turned out, however, that the older man had been the assistant to the conductors at La Scala for every production for the past 25 years, and had, of course, heard all the music at the hall in those years. He spoke no English (the young man translated).
With tears in his eyes at times and gesturing towards his heart to try to convey that his feelings were stronger than words, he told me that he had all my albums and had for many years been a great fan of my music, but that nothing had prepared him for the experience of this live solo concert at La Scala. He said it was the strongest, most moving (again putting his hand to his heart and with tears in his eyes) musical experience he ever had, even though he had heard countless concerts at La Scala and even though he had all my recordings.
My wife and I looked at each other, not really knowing what to do or say. I thanked him, but there was no proper way to say thank you for reinforcing the fragile (and at times, distant) knowledge that music is in the making of the music. The heart is where the music is.
Keith Jarrett
