I've heard it said there's nothing more intimate than seeing the expression on someone's face when they orgasm. There's a lot of jokes on TV, a lot of embarrassment over looking real and vulnerable. Now more than ever, with casual sex becoming so common place. You can see me come, but when you don't know the first thing about me (nor particularly like me), I can see how that risks becoming quite awkward. But when you love someone or are at the very least open to loving someone, there's something quite beautiful. A sort of tenderness, a seeing behind the public curtain that this person puts on for the rest of the world.
This is not about sex. It just starts with a long paragraph about it. This is, in fact, about art.
There's something almost hypnotic about watching truly dedicated artists perform. For a lot of them, you see them put on this whole show and dance. Their face makes the right expressions, their body moves in certain ways. There's nothing worse about seeing someone "look" the part. In perfect proportion to that, there's nothing more beautiful (to me) than watching someone become swallowed whole, give themselves completely to their art. I say art, but it's most common with performative art. Actors, sometimes, but for them, it's very hard. I feel - but what do I know? Because they're someplace else. Someone else. I think with artists, this tenderness shows when the line between themselves and their character blurs. You can see it with certain actors. Marlon Brando keeps coming to mind, but only in some roles.
There's an exercise you can try, if you're watching a really good movie and pay proper attention. There are times, you'll notice, a blur enter an actor's features. See them get lost in the character. I think that's the same moment of vulnerability I'm talking about here.
With musicians, it's far more obvious to the naked eye because good musicians aren't playing a part. My favorite musician in the world I've written about here a few times, so will skip for now, but he's just that sort of person - he's stunning to watch performing up close because you can tell he's no longer there. He is so deep in feeling the music and moving to a rhythm only he knows, it's just... sublime.
It feels almost like you shouldn't be there. Like it's awkward. Like you're intruding on something very private.
Here. Watch this.
I wasn't talking about him just now, but Daniil Trifonov is another stunning example of someone so vulnerable, so clearly, utterly lost in what he is playing that he forgets you're there.
I kept watching this and thinking "this man probably washed his hair the night before this performance and pressed his clothes, and groomed himself and got nervous and went to the store and did all these other seemingly mundane things. He got awkward and nervous and stage-fright and in awe at playing Carnegie Hall. He is this normal person getting paid, performing, being scared".
But then, just look at him. He goes on stage and loses himself to Stravinsky. He's taken somewhere else from all that. When I look, my heart accelerates. Any minute now, he'll turn and catch me looking at him, and I know I shouldn't.
It's too intimate.
(Neither should you. But if you want to keep transgressing, this performance of Transcendental Études by Liszt is also...speechless.)
Because I've been on a classical bend lately, we're sticking with the subject. Do conductors count as performers? I suppose they ought to. Antonio Pappano is certainly an artist. This is the sort of recording I can't play while working (or doing anything around the house, really) because I keep coming back to watch him.
Just look at his expressions, his passion. But I do suppose that's side-stepping the assignment here, since conductors typically tend to be more expressive. I guess they have to, by dint of their profession.
Finally. Martha Argerich is a marvel to behold at any age, but can you believe she's 82 in the above recording? Eighty fucking two. Again, proof that art and the love for beauty transcends age, time, nationality, and all these other petty dividers that get some of us so stuck in place.
With all of the above, it feels almost wrong. Furtive. But in the end, there's no alternative but to keep watching them. Mesmerized. As with all those other moments, that glimpse into the great beyond that ultimately binds us all together, we keep watching because they let us.
(Because maybe it's as lovely to be witnessed as to see in these private moments of abandonment.)
Of course, this is part of the weekly #threetunetuesday initiative run and initiated by @ablaze which lets us connect through earworms and art and all those other wonderful things. :)
