Louis

Historically, I’ve been driven to write when I’m feeling most sorry for myself. I’m beginning to break out of that -- sometimes by patently censoring the negative feelings (which comes in the form of typing a paragraph, selecting it with the mouse, and pressing delete -- followed by retyping a slightly different version of the paragraph, selecting it again, and pressing delete again) and sometimes by distracting myself with one of those things we ought to be grateful for.

For example: Sure, I may be completely ungrateful that I seem to be a reverse black hole pushing everything in the universe away. I may be completely ungrateful that I’m attracted to such a wide range of beauty while the only thing attracted to me is ex-boyfriends (as I texted someone during a solo dinner last night). I may be ungrateful that a recital I give is a long-grown redwood falling soundlessly in a peopleless forest. I may be ungrateful, in fact, that I’m perfectly mediocre in every way.

BUT! I am grateful for the concert series put on by San Francisco Performances, which allows me to sit in the second row just feet from incredible performers and all for cheapies. Last night I saw pianist Louis Lortie (whom I’ve marveled over since I first got his CD of Ravel over a decade ago, and which I gave to C.B. in an unusual display of selflessness) in a program of some admittedly unenjoyable Liszt. But he began the recital by talking a little about the relation between Liszt and Wagner and the music he would be performing, and he was so charming and human and informative . . . Well, naturally I fell in love. And then his octaves beat Liszt into submission.

The program mentioned his website, and THIS is what I am grateful for. LouisLortie.com is the best musical artist’s website I’ve come across. Speaking and playing for us intimately and casually from his own piano, he is a god putting on a divine Punch and Judy show amidst the muddy filth of Web Street.