Cadence

Gravity

Embouchure (from French: holding in the mouth - bouche means mouth) how hold the clarinet in my mouth between my lips and how I blow into the instrument. The embouchure is the single most important technique one has to master in order to develop good sound and to play as effortlessly as possible.

I take the clarinet into my mouth with the reed on lower lips, the mouthpiece touching the upper teeth, with just the right pressure by pressing the mouthpiece firmly, through my lips.

Breathing, taking in air. Clarinetists often have no time for breathing in - but still must fill your lungs to the extreme. Then I blow - not just let go, but blow in certain strengths, controlled, under pressure, for a long time.

Attack, the movement of the tongue to produce well articulated tones, either for long legatos or for sharp staccattos. 

And all the while, looking and establishing the connection with my pianist. We were ready to make music together. I lock eyes with him, ready to start the opening glissando of the rhapsody. There was just something about those eyes that just draw me in instantly.

Your eyes on me like that makes me fall deeper and deeper into you and the music, falling into your gravity every time we make music like this. Gravity, the law of nature that I can never seem to overcome. The power your music has over me, no matter how long we've been apart, I just seem to come back to your haunting melodies. Just like the law of nature, in your eyes and in your music, I found gravity.

And I would defy gravity a hundred, a million times, just to stay in those eyes forever.

And the best part about Hyun Bin being my pianist was how understanding he was. How instinctively sensitive he was towards the music. He had this ability to sense my intentions as his "soloist", an unspoken kind of awareness and understanding of how to interpret the music. That certain kind of empathy. Listening, sharing and just being one with me through the music.

Me, his soloist and him, my pianist, was enough connection for me. As evident in our performance of the Rhapsody in Blue. He paid attention to all the cues, knew where I was going to take a breather, knew where to go fast and slow. Being in the same wavelength, where communication was non-verbal, sharing almost telepathic communication, when we communicate musically without words. 

The second piece we did was the lighter but heartwarming Love Theme from Cinema Paradiso. The timeless sublime masterpiece of Morricone which illustrates a man, Salvatore, standing outside the woman's house (Elena) hoping that she will open her bedroom shutters as a sign of her love. That uncertain love that me and Bin share or shared, which I'm still not sure of. As if the flute ascended in its register and carried our inconsolable heartache. But the feeling when our eyes meet and our melodies embrace as the love theme blossoms on sumptuous piano harmonies. The closing reprise of this theme by my solo clarinet is exquisite, and breathtaking.

Coincidentally, Cinema Paradiso was one of Bin and I's favorite movies and film scores. Him on the piano and me on the clarinet, mellow and gentle melodic lines and contours, piano ostinato, sowing suspense as it slowly builds to a crescendo, and yet it never culminates and transfers the last of its energy to the solo clarinet. This Morricone theme, conceived a melody with the heart, bittersweet nostalgia and the love it demanded, which captured the film's emotional core.

Lights on. Applause.

The dashing Steinway artist stood up from his piano bench. Austerity and restraint aren't words usually associated with Hyun Bin, whose reputation has long been founded on his full throttle virtuosity and the excitement he brings on the piano along with that emotional depth. But I saw a different side of him today, the accompanist, the collaborating artist. Rather than playing "for me" being his soloist, he "played with me", in other words, as his other half, the half of the performance. A sense of equality in music. I wouldn't have it any other way.