Of Verona, Mozart, and gypsies (cont)
After a few days the issue was resolved and the gypsies left happily for other accommodations. I was finally
able to practice, late at night in the darkened church, on the eve of the concert.
I expected to be assisted at the concert by my friend Attilio, a young Italian student who was familiar with the
organ. But Attilio didn't show. We had no idea what had happened, and I was worried about him.
(We later learned that, while driving his girlfriend and his organ teacher to my recital, his car broke down in a
thunderstorm. Due to the storm, his cell phone didn't work, so he had to stand in the pouring rain trying to
flag down help.)
Meanwhile, a large crowd was assembling in the church. It seems that every time the TV cameras came in to
film the gypsies, the large poster for the recital was on the TV screen every time. What incredible free
publicity!
When I realized I was going to have to pull all the stops and operate all the levers myself, I decided to play in
shorts rather than slacks, so I could clearly see all the foot levers. (I was playing in a very high gallery,
so no one could see from downstairs.) However, five minutes before the recital, the Second Organist of the
church (a real card), came up to the organ, and seeing me in shorts, announced that the newspaper was there to take
my picture. I thought it was one of his many jokes -- but no, a young lady was there with a camera!
She wanted to photograph me at the organ. After whispering "don't disgrace me," we agreed on a waist-up shot.
The recital went fine, with my wife turning pages, and me making all the registrational changes myself.
No mishaps. The newspaper gave me a fine review ("I virtuosismi di Wikman" was the headline), and was
accompanied by the waist-up shot of me playing. After the tension of the week, we really enjoyed a dinner of
pasta and great wine. --TW
<< Back |
