Before our trip last month, Lori and I spent a fair bit of time trying to determine what we wanted to do in Australia. One a whim I decide to try and find out if David Helfgott would be playing any concert there, since he lives there. Just my luck, he was not.
When I got to Oslo however, my luck changed. I was given a entertainment guide for May at the airport and to my surprise, David Helfgott was giving a recital the first Tuesday of my trip. A few questions to various people later, and I found where it was and there were tickets available (at least I thought I knew where I was going).
On the way to the concert, it started to rain and in my rush I took a wrong turn. I ended up in the area of Gamle Logan (the concert hall), but I couldn’t figure out which build was the one I wanted. So, I decided to ask a woman standing under a tree, shielding herself from the rain. “Can you help me?” I asked. She replied, “I think I can,” with a smile on her face. That’s when I realized I was talking to a prostitute. Boy, was she surprised when I asked her for directions.
I did finally find the concert and, at the risk of over using the word, it was amazing. I have to admit, I have not seen many pianists play live, but like wine, I know what I like. I like David Helfgott.
The event was more of an experience that a concert. If you don’t know the story of David Helfgott, I suggest you rent the movie Shine which will give you a Hollywood version (with an great performance by Geoffrey Rush). For now all you need really need to know is he was a childhood prodigy who’s career was almost end by his battle with Schizoaffective Disorder. This affects his communications and relations with the people around him.
After being introduced, David ran out on to the stage giving the crowd two thumbs up, with a look of pure joy on his face. He then shook the hand of everyone in the front row, bouncing from person to person, before sitting at the piano. There he played works by Beethoven, Listz and Grieg, all while talking singing and muttering to himself (a side effect of his disorder).
For two pieces, he was joined by Maria Goldberg, a young soprano, who performed works by Puccini. During her performance I saw something quite unique. After missing a note early in the first piece, she collapsed to the ground in embarrassment. David quickly stopped playing, though he was not embarrassed or mad. He simply went over to comfort her and rally the crowd around her, returning to the piano only when she was ready. After this she performed quite well (I would say flawlessly to my ears). When she finished her pieces, David continued by himself, playing three encores, finishing with Flight of the Bumblebee which was astounding, and will be one of my fondest memories of my trip.
