on performing ❧ 53
sandwich lunches, when all one wants is a decent meal because of not dining
before the concert. Hostesses are better now than formerly about remember-
ing that many concert artists do not dine [before performances] and the occa-
sions are now blessedly rare on which one goes sullenly to bed after some fruit
punch, dull conversation, and cookies.
In general, I’ve always preferred staying in hotels to being put up privately.
The demands of rehearsals at odd hours, of transportation, and of perfor-
mances preclude the graceful and accommodating behavior that befi ts an
invited guest. I feel at ease only when accepting hospitality from people who
know me well enough to tolerate all the trouble and upset that I cause.
The greatest hardship[s] for any touring performer, next to those of trans-
portation and hotels, are provided by the halls in which he is obliged to play. In
the case of a strange hall, his diffi culties generally begin with the effort of gain-
ing access to the stage. When one has tried every door on all four sides of the
building or pushed every visible button to no avail, pounding on the door or
window sometimes attracts attention, but it is very hard on the hands. Kicking
is better, preferably with a heel so as not to damage toes. As a last resort, tele-
phoning, most often possible only from several blocks away, usually produces
results. An unbelievable number of concert halls have no provision whatever
for the proper seating of a keyboard player, and if indeed an appropriate seat
is available, there are often limits to its adjustability. Occasionally I have been
obliged to raise the harpsichord on blocks because no stool could be found
that was low enough for a proper playing position.
When an agreement is reached concerning lighting, the technician often
fails to mention that at the concert he will be replaced by someone else. The
result of illumination is a visual disaster. More often than not, one is completely
blinded by unauthorized spotlights.
No matter how much one has rehearsed alone in a strange hall, there is
no way of telling in advance what kind of sound will meet the performer’s ear
when he starts playing in the full hall. For years I have disciplined myself to
expect all sorts of surprises, even from a familiar instrument, most of them dis-
agreeable. The only way to negotiate a harpsichord recital in a strange hall is
to impose such a compelling conception of the music as heard in the inner ear
that the actual sound is transfi gured beyond recognition. This is a tall order,
and I can testify that it rarely meets with complete success. The dry sound-
absorbing halls are those that leave the harpsichord least room for adaptability.
There is nothing one can do but to go on playing as one normally would while
hoping that somehow something of the musical conception will get through.
Halls with greater resonance are much easier to handle, in that they better
convey the differences ranging from a short staccato to a thick legato.
On most stages the placing of the harpsichord is very important. The shift
in any direction of even as little as a foot or two can often radically alter the
KKirkpatrick.indd 53irkpatrick.indd 53 2/8/2017 9:56:58 AM 2 / 8 / 2017 9 : 56 : 58 AM
rick simeone
(Rick Simeone)
#1