Ivo Pogorelich played in Chicago today. If you don't know who he is, well neither did I until today, but he's a classical pianist and he made quite an impression on me. The program was all solo piano music, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, Scriabin and Liszt. Marsha and I thought he played with exquisite sensitivity. He had the look of a man who is deeply affected by the music he is playing. He did not seem to welcome applause. He looked pained by it. Perhaps he is shy? He never said one word to the audience. He let his music speak for him.
He's a figure of some controversy in the world of classical music, meaning he's sort of a "love him or hate him" kind of guy.
His fingers do the talking,
And it sets the critics squawking.
Marsha sat next to a lady who slept through most of the performance. At 35 dollars a ticket, it was an expensive nap.
She was busy napping
Till we woke her with our clapping.