Most of my adult friends don’t know this, but my mother was a classically trained pianist who toured throughout South America, sometimes accompanied by my Aunt Maru, who was a classically trained Opera singer. She left La Paz right after middle school and studied in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil until her late teens. Classical music and in the case of my father, ballroom dancing, played a huge part of the courtship between my parents. My mother spoke 8 languages and often accompanied my grandfather on his jaunts as Ambassador of Bolivia when she wasn’t performing, including a memorable trip to Japan. Wanderlust never left her and she moved on to a long career as a travel agent after she stopped touring. It was during one of her infrequent stops in La Paz that she came to dinner, at her father’s insistence that she meet a young Professor at the University where he was now Dean. In less than a month they were married.
Flash forward to when I was 8. I remember the grand piano we had in our living room, which my mother had received in lieu of salary when one of her travel agencies went under. My mother had insisted that we all take piano lessons and I did it for almost a year before deciding that I needed to learn Billy Joel vs the classics. My mother would plan various pieces from her concert days with the hopes of instilling a love of classical music, but my tween self rebelled. Chopin was the only composer I knew by name and would sit through.
The very last link on the Warsaw Pass website, almost an afterthought, was a “Time for Chopin” live piano concert in Old Town. Partially as a tribute to my mom, and to see if I remember any of the pieces, I signed up.
The Uber from the Vodka Museum left me at the front of Old Town at 5:30 pm with 30 minutes to find the concert. None of the Under-30 Poles I had started to rely on for directions recognized the address but assured me that Old Town wasn’t that big and I should find the concert easily on a Wednesday night, I just needed to look for a sign with the same logo as my ticket. Yes God, I hear you laughing again.
Many photo ops and an alternate Chopin Concert venue later (who stated everyone stopped there first but it wasn’t their concert) a maitre d from one of the restaurants in the square, who happened to love classical music and knew the venue well, delivered me to the concert himself.
Once inside, I was transported back to the one piano recital I had done and the countless ones my daughter had performed in before college. The venue was beautifully decorated and I could tell the ancient thick walls of the old town building would be amazing for acoustics.
I didn’t recognize the pieces on the program but once the pianist started, I did remember why I remembered Chopin over all the other composers my mother had played. There was an intricacy in the notes and if you close your eyes, you can see the music, notes circling and falling and then gaining speed again.
We toasted the pianist with the most delicious honey wine at the end.
At this point, I had had four shots of vodka and now one generous cordial glass of honey wine on an empty stomach, so I was determined to have a nice dinner to close out the day.
Total value realized from Warsaw Pass = $49/$50 paid.
I love it.