Well, I mentioned once that I might be dating someone. That "might" has become a major thorn in my heel, and I'm trying to extract it by doing whatever random thing comes my way, even if I have to go its way first. Does that make sense?
The other day, I went to...the second BNDES International Piano Competition! This is a fancy event of classical pianists under thirty from around the world. The stakes are high: R$80,000 (maybe US$55,000?) for the winner! And, although the finals were held in the opulent Teatro Municipal, the event was free. I arrived more than an hour early, and already the line was beginning to sneak around the corner. The Teatro Municipal is a magnificent building, full of gold-leaf, green stone, velvet and naked ladies depicted in glass, marble and paint. We were assigned seats in the balcony overlooking the pianist, which was a mixed blessing because these are the tiniest little seats in the world! Me, a big German man, and a diminuative (even for a Brazilian) little guy named Julio. Julio is a student of philosophy, and is very serious. At one point, he left his creaky seat to kneel in the aisle for a better view. My other balcony companions were mostly young mothers and their many children. During the first presentation (the Brazilian Fabio Martino, playing Rachmaninoff's Concerto no. 2 in Cm), I really enjoyed watching these kids leaning over the gold and velvet balconys, mezmerized by the spectacle (in my imagination, at least)...By the third movement, they were bored, flipping exasperatedly through the program and making loud noises. I remember feeling similarily at a concert in the whaling church in Edgartown with the Maskins (mom...sorry!). Anyway, Fabio did a good job. I had goosebumps, but I don't know who deserves the credit; Fabio, the orchestra, Rachmaninoff, or the air conditioning. Most likely, a lovely combination of the four.
The other two contestants were a tall, slender Japanese guy playing Liszt and a squat Russian guy playing another Rachmaninoff (talvéz no.3?). I'll admit it, I was too bored to pay much attention, and that thorn in my heel was staring to occupy my mind again...I think that they generally lived up to the stereotypes: the Japanese was extraordinarily dexterious, the Russian emotional. Everyone loved the Russian. I guess he had played Mozart sublimly at the semi-finals. So...guess who won? The Brazilian! People actually booed when the Russian was handed third prize. I felt bad for him: he is obviously one of these guys that lived for piano, pasty and bulbous, with his shiny suit pants fasten halfway up his chest. He took his little certificate and stared out at the crowd through thick glasses in a very confused way (am I making him up now? I'm not sure...). The Japanese won second, graciously, and the Brazilian, with his bouncing pianist curls, took first, to an applause which was a mixture of national pride and artistic suspicion. Julio was disappointed. He thought the integrity of the event had been comprimised.
Corruption? I can't say for sure. But, on that interesting topic, I enjoyed a Brazilian blockbuster with the thorn guy on election night. Brazil has elected her very first female president. After the movie ( Tropa da Elite 2...don't see it 'till I get back, ok mom and dad?), the mood was glum. Pobreçinho is completely disillusioned with Brazilian politics, and who can blame him? In São Paulo, they elected an illiterate clown to congress...the movie is a social critique, and not a very happy one. In fact, a very very depressing assessment of the leadership and social realities of this city. I guess I would be sad, too, but I find it quite interesting that on the one hand people flock a movie with this message, and on the other hand feel completely disconnected to the finding of a solution. Surely they cannot hope for the movie's final: the heroic cop beating the currupt politician to a bloody pulp. That just doesn't seem likely.
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