I have listened to no music for the past two weeks.
Not live, not canned, not even knowingly on radio – apart from one moment of weakness when I dipped into the Youtube vaults for a dose of Barbara to start the New Year.
For two whole weeks I have rested my ears and this morning, in a few minutes’ time, I am going to wander down to the Wigmore Hall to hear an unknown (to me) Spanish pianist who comes hotly recommended by friends in Madrid.
Excited? I couldn’t be more on edge if Horowitz’s resurrection had been announced on Second Life and I was getting front seats with Michelle Obama at Carnegie Hall.
Javier Peranes will be playing works by Blasco de Nebra (new to me), Schubert and Chopin. If he’s pacing the backstage at this moment feeling tense, nervous, exhilarated, well that’s just about how I feel after a fortnight of self-imposed deprivation. I need music and I need it now.
I gotta go. If it’s any good, I’ll tell you later.