A young woman, still a girl really,
walks to the piano. Smiles shyly.
Self consciously adjusts the seat,
establishing her distance,
her territory,
the performer’s gap
from a restless audience.
Flexes her thin fingers,
sits down,
runs her hands silently along the keys,
taps her foot a few times,
silently countimg herself in,
then settles to play.
Several notes in
you can see the change.
Her face goes blank,
emotions turned inwards,
transformed into sound.
The music is now playing the girl,
no shyness, no hesitation,
oblivious to the audience.
When the dance of fingers,
the near boneless reach, ends,
the music gently puts her aside.
on a slow fading note.
Briefly in limbo between two worlds.
The blankness leaves her face,
she remembers she’s not alone,
blushes a little,
puts the performer away,
and leaves the stage.
Cheers, Phil. I’ve always been fascinated by the transformation from everyday person to performer. Sometimes it’s almost like flicking a switch, but there’s always a little bit of private ritual, like adjusting the piano stool.
With the ‘switch flickers’ you’ll sometimes wonder if the everyday persona is the performance, cast aside so they can be what they really are, what they really want to be and do.
Very expertly done Gyppo. Much enjoyed this and as someone who does theatre can relate very well to the ebb and flow of performance self and real-life self
It is a strange world, indeed, Gyppo.
As much as I hate being the centre of attention, the moment I start singing, the music takes over, and there’s nothing else.