A Whirlwind of Stolen Time

She was more like anything I've ever dreamed of and she was no dream. She waxed elusive hidden in plain sight wearing an exquisite red evening gown with trailing tails which flowed behind her as she entered the stage, bowing and seating herself before the grand piano. She was Valentina Lisitsa, and she was here to play Edvard Grieg's piano concerto. Then she began and time seemed to stand still, yet minutes passed and the beautiful music progressed faster than I would like, for I wanted it to last forever.

Lively passages quickly give way to passionate vibes, as unyielding concentration poured heart and soul into vigorous sequences of splendor. Then came a smile as she gently leaned forward as if contemplating the next measure for measure. Fingers sprightly danced over the keyboard coyly flirting with oboe and cellos, and again the PSO repeats the refrain. Hands now seemed to attack the keyboard for only a quick few notes, then softly silhouetted a sanguine solo sequence.

Fast forward to the end, and my friend exclaims: 'outrageous' meaning it was so magnificent as to go beyond mere description. I agree. Time has stolen itself back again, as the concerto is now over as the audience applauds, and I again have been robbed of the beautiful music from my ears. Yet I'll return to hear again.