A Bright September Day, Meeting Rachmaninoff

(Denver, CO = Won Jeong) It was a bright September day.

Last year, I had fallen completely under the spell of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. So the moment I saw the words “Rachmaninoff’s 3rd Piano Concerto” on the Colorado Symphony’s program, I pushed everything else on my schedule aside and made time for this concert.

It was such a beautiful day that it seemed almost perfect for going to meet Rachmaninoff. It was neither too warm nor too cold. Somehow, it felt like a day that belonged with Rachmaninoff’s music.

Then came pianist Garrick Ohlsson, together with the Colorado Symphony under the direction of conductor Rune Bergmann, and once again, I found myself completely captivated.

I learned only afterward that the elderly gentleman at the piano, Garrick Ohlsson, was the winner of the 1970 International Chopin Piano Competition.

Of course, I thought.

Rachmaninoff’s unmistakable piano melodies filled the concert hall.

His Piano Concerto No. 3 is often described as one of the most difficult piano works ever written. But listening to it was simply beautiful. The sound of the piano seemed to linger somewhere inside me before slowly slipping away.

As the orchestra and piano came together, the music gradually spread outward, almost as if it were painting a picture.

Imagine first drawing great mountains and the sea, and then adding small birds, boats moving busily across the water for their day’s work, and fish swimming beneath the surface.

In much the same way, Rachmaninoff seemed to move the listener’s heart by shaping the music through contrasts—soft and powerful, fast and slow.

He could shake the heart completely, then gently settle it again.

Caught in that Rachmaninoff “magic,” I lost all sense of time.

Whenever I listen to Rachmaninoff, I sometimes feel as though I am beginning to understand the man himself.

But in the end, what I come to realize is that I understand nothing about him at all.