This afternoon I heard an interesting story about Vladimir Horowitz from the days when Bryon Janis studies under him. In it Janis is heartbroken by his performance knowing that he can never supplant nor best his teacher and tells him as such. Horowitz comforts the young man and tells him that there is already one Horowitz, that the only goal he should have is to be Janis. Much like the story in the Bible where when face to face with God a man states that he never thought he would arrive in that position for how could he be a better man than Moses, God looks down upon the man and says that the only goal he had in life was to be the best person he himself could be. Paraphrased in both stories but nonetheless and interesting point.
Later on in the day I was sitting at a very late dinner with a terribly svelte and frail looking young man whom I call a friend. He composes for a living after studying at Julliard and we sat there among other friends looking at a Peter Beard photograph of an elephant. Because I usually find myself moving the conversation in the direction I see fit I began telling stories of hunting on the African plains, stories I have never experiences myself but rather obtained from Hemingway, Capstick and Roosevelt novels of such dangerous pursuits. After giving a lecture on the .375 Holland and Holland round, how perfect an ammunition it was for all around African game the conversation turned towards the ivory trade and eventually to whether or not it was still used for piano keys. It is not. My thin friend who is undoubtedly a master of the piano gave myself and the remainder of the table a thought which resonated in my mind for the remainder of the evening. A terribly deep thought from a terribly young man with amazing depth and insight.
He stated that he has played both but playing ivory keys was always so much more painful, literally. His hands would hurt throughout the course of playing but also how much more connected he felt while doing so, how the only nature of ivory was to kill and destroy and when he played their lineage ran through his body. Whether or not he played ivory differently knowing this and thereby churning up emotions within his soul he did not say but for whatever reason he held his idea as truth and I found it beautiful.
Earlier in the day I listened to an hour long speech given by a cultural anthropologist in regards to Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest and how altruism, a practice that is rampant among humans lies in direct contrast to said theory. It was a pretty depressing idea since the speaker conveyed the idea that there is no such thing as selflessness in the world, that the only reason we do good deeds is for our own personal gain and satisfaction.
Sitting here listening to Horowitz all ideas have merged together and I think about the pursuit of perfection, and how such a selfish, maniacal pursuit can lead to pleasure and gain for us all. How the death of a majestic creature, a creature who has no comprehension of a piano and what his own body could possibly be used for, and used for such beauty. I am not quite sure where I stand on any of these matters as they all have their merits, and while killing such a magnificent animal for such frivolities (or not) is a noble right. But I do know that just as such beautiful classical music taps into an unknown in our own mind, that for better or worse we are all connected in so many mystical ways that are beyond our comprehension. Neither Horowitz, Janis, nor Moses himself knows the answer.
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