I started taking piano lessons a year ago. I have no illusions about my current or potential talent levels, but I enjoy the process and the sounds that I urge out of the keys that occasionally resemble music.  I also really enjoy listening to someone good.

The Chicago Cultural Center hosts Dame Myra Hess Concerts every Wednesday from 12:15-1:00. This week Vijay Venkatesh played Liszt and Beethoven on the piano, and brought forth tones that doesn’t exist on my digital keyboard. And, though his hands were occasionally moving at lightning speed, I’m pretty sure that he played all 88 keys at least once during Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12. So the hundreds of us in attendance would have gotten our money’s worth even if we had paid something to get in.

There was a woman in the front row who, at first glance, seemed to be taking notes, perhaps for a review, I mean a real one, not like what you read on my blog. But as I shifted in my seat, I realized I was wrong, she wasn’t writing, but rather sketching the pianist at work. I don’t take notes for my blog. I feel that it would distract from my enjoyment of the event and hinder my ability to observe all that is going on around me. And I can’t read my handwriting.

Vijay deservedly (I think) received a standing ovation at the conclusion of his work, but these days it seems that everyone gets one, and thus it has lost its significance. I wonder if performers know that sometimes we stand just because the people in front of us (who might be friends and family of the performers) stood up and we can’t see if we stay seated, or we just want to stretch our legs, or we just want to beat the crowd out the door.

Please fight the urge to give this blog a standing ovation, as I’ve already left the room.