On Force Majeure: Chapter Two
My readers may be wondering why I have still written nothing about Kaho’s concert on August 16.
Someone with whom I became acquainted through Kaho’s concerts even sent me an email expressing concern.
The truth is that several circumstances beyond my control prevented me from attending!…Even though, of course, I had secured the tickets long beforehand.
For some time now, whenever something is rendered impossible by circumstances beyond my control, I have dealt with it by immediately resigning myself to the situation and forgetting about it at once.
Last night, however, the opening work at the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra’s subscription concert was Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 4, performed by the extraordinarily gifted 22-year-old Lithuanian pianist Eva Gevorgyan…on a Yamaha piano…and it was a magnificent performance.
The thunderous applause from the packed hall would not cease.
So overwhelming was the response that she performed no fewer than two solo encores.
The first, the Intermezzo from The Nutcracker, was also truly magnificent.
The concert began at 7:00 p.m.…and I listened alone from a seat slightly to the right of center in Section D on the first floor.
It was not a suitable seat from which to listen to the piano.
Since discovering Kaho and HIMARI on New Year’s Eve in 2020, however, I—who until then could almost have been described as exclusively devoted to the piano—could equally well be said to have become a devotee of the violin.
Yet, from the moment her performance began, I kept thinking about Kaho’s concert on August 16, which I had been unable to attend…There can be no doubt that it was the greatest performance of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in history.
That much can be understood from the single photograph released on social media by the Gunma Symphony Orchestra.
Social media posts by members of the audience were also filled with comments saying that, after the performance ended, the hall erupted in cheers and applause louder than anything they had ever heard before—and that the hall quite literally shook.
Throughout the entire first movement, I thought about nothing else.
[Passage omitted.]
When I awoke yesterday, I discovered, to my astonishment, that my left cheek had become swollen as though I had the mumps.
It was the first time I had ever experienced anything like it.
A doctor made a house call at 10:00 a.m.
Shortly after 11:00 a.m., I ate an early lunch and took the prescribed antibiotics.
Only afterward did I realize something.
Yesterday was August 28.
At 10:00 a.m., tickets had gone on sale for Nodoka Okisawa conducting the Kyoto Symphony Orchestra, with Midori, at Kyoto Concert Hall…I had been checking the date for several months.
I had even telephoned Kyoto Concert Hall to confirm it.
Sold out!
Sales closed.
A chain of force majeure…In that instant, I resigned myself to it and forgot about it.
What narrowly escaped this chain of force majeure were one ticket for the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra’s Rachmaninoff Cycle, beginning at 7:00 p.m. that very day, August 28, and two tickets for today’s truly magnificent concert, beginning at 2:00 p.m. on August 30: Special Grade Grand Concerto 2026, with the Kansai Philharmonic Orchestra; Shu Katayama performing the world premiere of his Piano Concerto; Miyu Shindo performing Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2; and Yukine Kuroki performing Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1.
I happened to learn of today’s concert only very late, but, miraculously, a single S-category seat remained available on the first floor.
It is on the left-hand side, but Seat No. 10 is fairly close to the center…although acoustically it may be a somewhat questionable seat.
My closest friend will be seated on the second floor, in the balcony above the orchestra, which may actually be the better place from which to listen to the piano.
These were tickets I had managed to secure when the concert was already close to being sold out…Yet the impact of the force majeure that prevented me from attending the August 16 concert was so overwhelming that I had completely forgotten about both August 28 and August 30.
Indeed, the damage caused by being unable to hear Kaho’s unsurpassable performance of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto on August 16 was so great that I had even forgotten about today’s truly magnificent concert.
And yet, as I add these words now, I am filled with the greatest possible happiness, thinking: What a wonderful Sunday afternoon this is!
After all, it was Yukine Kuroki’s performance of the Intermezzo from The Nutcracker at the Noto Earthquake Charity Concert at Hamarikyu Asahi Hall on March 10, 2024, that brought me back to the piano as well.
Soon afterward, I purchased tickets for her concert at Kioi Hall simply to hear the Intermezzo once again.
The only seats still available were the two at the extreme left of the front row—the worst possible seats from which to listen to the piano.
After that, I made an overnight trip to Kochi to attend another of her concerts.
The hotel beside the concert hall stood on the site of a former feudal domain residence, and its bar and karaoke room were superb.
How spacious it was—and how delicious the cocktail made with Kochi sudachi citrus tasted!
For the first time since I was stricken by a grave illness, I drank glass after glass, just as I had during the days when I had been a formidable drinker.
That evening, after the concert, my singing was among the finest and most skilful of my entire life—so much so that a veteran woman working at the bar, who told me that she was taking singing lessons, was deeply impressed.
Even by my own reckoning, it truly was magnificent.
Then, last year, I made an overnight trip to the Kanazawa Music Festival to attend both her concert and a concert by Pinchas Zukerman.
I also wanted to hear Ms. Kuroki perform Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in the main hall the following day, but I had to abandon the idea because of my closest friend’s schedule.
And now, today, I can hear her perform that very concerto at The Symphony Hall, only a little over ten minutes from my home by taxi.
The seat I miraculously obtained should, at least, be vastly better than the one I had at Kioi Hall.
To be continued.