All language subtitles for seymour.an.introduction.limited.2014.dvdrip.x264-lpd

I would love
not to miss that octave.

That's a hard thing.

How can I be sure
that I'm gonna get there?

If I open in-
in advance...

That's what I'll do.
I'll open my hand in advance.

Okay.

I keep hitting, and I keep
overshooting the runway here.

See?
It will-not right.

So something has to go.

Okay.

I have to get there
in advance.

And here we go again.

Got it.

Good.

Now less.

You don't want to play
a staccato that sounds...

Like you're jogging
through the park.

See, the most important thing-

One of the most important things
I would say-

although some people think
it is the most important thing-

is an even pulse,

a pulse that never stops.

It's never going to stop.

You know how the gurus
train us to say,

"Om. "

This-like a drone of sound,
right, that never stops?

# Pa-ro, ro #

# Ta, rum, pa-rum #

We have to modify
the pulse there.

# Rum, pa #

But the eighth notes
never stop, see?

Float your right arm more.

See, move over.

So even though
it's a staccato-

You can sit.

Even though
it's a staccato...

Pedal, pedal.

So why don't I tell
you why I've asked you all here?

I have been

struggling recently

with finding why it is
that I do what I do.

I knew that, uh,
the superficial things-

uh, material wealth, the world
thinking you're a big shot-

I kind of knew that
that was phony,

that there was something
inauthentic to build on.

But I didn't know
what was authentic.

My friend Tony Zito
invited me over to dinner,

and Seymour Bernstein
was sitting next to me,

and I immediately felt
kind of safe around him

to talk to him about
some of these things.

And at this one dinner,
Seymour helped me

more than anyone in my own
profession had been able to.

Don't let go of this E...

Until it's time...

Until it's time to play it.

And then it'll sound perfect.

Ah.

Oh, now, a dream.

That was better than mine.

You're not allowed
to play better than I do.

One day, a Dr. Kimmelman
called me up

and asked if I would
teach his son.

I asked him,
how old is his son?

He said, "Five. "

I said, "Five?

Well, I never taught anyone
at the age of five. "

He said, "Oh, my son
is very bright.

Yeah, I think
you'll enjoy him. "

And his mother,
during the lessons,

she has a little pad,
and she's sketching.

One day,

she brings me this beautiful
sculpture of my cat.

Michael, you didn't know I was
going to bring this, did you?

No, I didn't. I-

- Do you remember...
- Of course.

That your mother
gave this to me?

Of course. Yeah.
Of course.

Well, Michael eventually
became incorrigible.

He wouldn't practice.

Well, I don't think
it was "eventually. "

I don't think
I ever practiced, do you?

You always would more or less
say, "Listen, Michael,

"I love you dearly,
but, you know,

maybe you don't want
to be doing this. "

I begged my
mother for piano lessons.

We didn't even have a piano.

So somebody gave us an old
upright piano when I was six.

There was no music ever played
in my house-ever.

We didn't even own
any records.

Right?

Right?

I got up early
on a Sunday morning,

and I couldn't wait to see
what was in this book.

I turned the page,

and there was
the Serenade by Schubert.

It seemed to me
that I always knew that piece.

My parents were sleeping
on the second floor,

and my three sisters
were all sleeping.

So my mother heard
the piano playing.

She came down.
She found me crying.

"Why are you crying?"

"Oh, it's the most beautiful
piece I ever heard," I told her.

I remember your Alice Tully Hall
recital very well.

Really?
Were you there?

Yeah, I was a boy.

Do you-
There is something-

It was a great experience
in my life.

This was seeing somebody
I loved deeply

play in a way that I cou-

I still remember it vividly.

You were phenomenal.

The Tully Hall
had just opened.

And there were other-
other mitigating circumstances

that made me crawl the wall
with nervousness.

- I was a total wreck.
- Hmm.

In those days, you know,

the review came out
the next day.

I'm walking on 76th Street,

turning the pages,
prepared to see the worst.

- It was by Donal Henahan.
- Mm-hmm.

Boy, he was so terrible
to pianists,

but he gave me
a rave review.

"Seymour Bernstein
triumphs at the piano. "

My friend Sheila Ohlendorf
made a reception for me.

Yeah.

I came to the reception,

and I said, "Sheila, could I
speak to you in the back room?"

I looked at her
very sincerely,

and I said to her,

"If you love me,

you'll never let me
play in public again. "

When I was
around the age of 15,

I remember
that I became aware

that when my practicing
went well,

everything else in life
seemed to be harmonized by that.

When my practicing
didn't go well,

I was out of sorts
with people, with my parents.

So I concluded

that the real essence
of who we are

resides in our talent
and whatever talent there is.

Motivated
by a love of music

and possessed
of a clear understanding

of the reasons
for practicing,

you can establish
so deep an accord

between your musical self
and your personal self

that eventually music
and life will interact

in a never-ending cycle
of fulfillment.

Now let's-let's
talk about the first slur.

The second notes
have to be softer.

No, the second notes
are too loud.

Okay, now in time,
in time.

Now, there are
three statements.

# Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra, rum #

# Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra, rum,
ta-ra #

- Right?
- Mm-hmm.

So start the first one less.

Does it say to do that?

Of course not.

- But we have to-
- We know to do that.

We have to do that.

Easy, easy.

Good.

And now go for it!

That's very good.
Now play the opening slur.

Okay, now,
before I discuss that further...

See those two notes?

There's no slur.

We both agree the second note
should be softer, right?

Do you connect that note
to the next note?

Well, here you have
a repeated note, so...

- Mm-hmm. Do you connect it?
- No.

You make a separation?

- Yeah.
- You didn't.

Do it.
Play the opening.

- You didn't do that.
- I didn't do that, no.

Of course not.

You're thinking
we're never gonna get past

this first measure.

But don't leave the key.

Now play the left hand first
with the soft pedal.

Let's see, so-
That's right.

Halfway down.

Don't always play keys
to the key bed.

The escapement level
is halfway down.

Right? Right here?

- See? Right here?
- Mm-hmm.

Play that.
Play that just...

With the pedal.

Too deep.

Okay.
Okay, and now play.

Good.

Same.
Now go softer.

Now crescendo.

Okay, very, very good.

Oh, this is the most
beautiful piano.

It's mine, and yet I find
it's one of my favorite pianos.

The sound seems-

You know, pianos' tones die.

You go like this...

And the-and the sound dies,
but this one seems...

This one seems
to grow somehow.

This piano, by the way,
stood at 9 East 72nd Street,

which is a famous mansion.

And guess who owned it.

My patroness.

Her name was Mildred Boos.

And the music room
was patterned

after the music room
in the Palace of Versailles.

It was unbelievable.

It seated easily 250 people.

Mrs. Boos was a spiritualist.

She had a religion
called "I Am. "

She believed in contacting
all the masters:

Jesus, Moses, Bu#ha-

the-the whole gang there.

And-and so-
and she had students there

who followed this religion.

I said to her one day,

"Do you have anyone
playing the organ?"

She had an organ.

And I said,
"I'll do it for you. "

Well, that did it.

That's what made me
the special person in her life.

She sponsored my debuts
in Europe.

She phoned after very concert
to find out how it went,

from New York to Paris,

from New York to London,

from New York to Hamburg-
wherever I played.

When I came home, well,
she said, "Come to Scarsdale. "

She gave me the key
to this ten-room Tudor mansion.

And she said,
"Here, dear,

it's yours for however long
you want it. "

Every day, practically,
when I was there,

the doorbell would ring,

and another delivery
would take place:

a TV,

a silver tea set,

a velvet smoking jacket.

She was drowning me
in luxuries.

When I went through that door
and she gave me the key,

I got terrified.

In her living room,
on every table

was my photograph.

It would seem very obvious

that she was falling
in love with me.

I lived there for a year.

I started to feel trapped.

And one night,
it came to an end.

I'm sitting here because I'm
out of the-uh, the spotlight.

It's very warm,

and spotlights blind me

so that I can't see
your wonderful faces.

During all of this time
of giving workshops,

I never felt that I had
a good opening sentence,

so I created one for tonight,
and here it is.

The most important thing

that music teachers can do
for their pupils

is to inspire
and encourage

an emotional response

not just for music

but, more importantly,
for all aspects of life.

Well, then after I felt good
on the stage,

when I was around 50-

It took all that time
to feel good,

to be able to play what I wanted
to say on the stage.

So at the age of 50,
I didn't tell anyone,

and I arranged
a farewell concert

at the 92nd Street Y.

And I didn't even
tell my mother.

That was the last
public concert I ever played.

- Direct question.
- Yes.

On some level, though you were
nervous on the stage, you were-

It was difficult to do;
the career was hard to develop-

- Well, yeah-
- Were you-were you-

Nervousness is part
of what we do.

Of course.

But do you feel on some level
you were just-

uh, I don't know-

just couldn't
take that anymore?

That aspect of it,
the pressure of it,

the anxiety of it...

I hated the commercial
aspect of it.

Right.

- I hated the nerves.
- Right.

- I wanted to create. Right?
- Right. Right.

Those are three major reasons
why I quit.

But, Seymour,
you were a great player.

You were an amazing player.

You got fabulous reviews
as well, so you-

It didn't help, though.

What do you mean?

- It didn't help to...
- What didn't it help?

Allay the horror

that I felt before
and during a concert.

So I wasn't gonna
let it go at that.

This is a challenge
I have to meet.

Right.

If I'm gonna be
that terrified

of walking
across the stage,

what am I going to say about
facing the vicissitudes of life?

Exactly.

- It's the same.
- Right.

I had te-terrible blocks.

I had physical blocks
in my playing itself.

I had blocks whenever I was
on the stage-

having a fear of memory slips.

I felt inadequate
as a pianist.

Now, you understand
that if we're talking

about the correlation
between a musician and a person,

if you feel inadequate
as a musician,

then you're going to feel
inadequate as a person.

You know, I-I have
a memory of you being

more angry at the music world
in years-years past.

What, I was angry
at the music world?

Yeah, I think so.
I think so.

And I-
I should say so.

And I think that
came across in the classes.

There was a little bit of a,
uh, you know...

Resentment?

Yeah, a little bit.
Something like this.

Like, well, we're doing this
thing here, and this is good,

but those people
over there at Juilliard,

they're just a bunch of,
you know, sort of careerists.

I haven't changed.

No, I think you have,
actually, but...

No, I haven't changed.

I just think that-

I'm not so sure
that a major career

is a healthy thing
to embark upon.

I see my colleagues
who have major careers

suffer terribly.

There are a lot of
examples of extremely talented,

extremely selfish,
horrible people.

Isn't that so?
So-

Is there some connection

between the monsters
and the-and the gift?

The contrast between

the unbelievable attainment
of art

and the unpredictability
of the social world

is so great-

the contrast is so great-

that it makes them
neurotic.

They can't equate this.

Jackson Pollock
and Marlon Brando

were all pretty notoriously
horrible people.

They were.

And there are musicians
who are monsters, yeah.

Glenn Gould,
for example.

He was a total
neurotic mess-

total.

No chair could be
low enough for him.

I-I heard him play
in Carnegie Hall several times.

And they put the piano
on cinder blocks this high.

So-now, I can't screw
the chair down to demonstrate,

but I can ima-show you.

The keyboard was up here.

See? Look.
He was playing like this.

Well, everybody knows
that he was a genius.

And technically,
he had few equals.

He was so extraordinary.

But what peeves me about him-

he was so famous for Bach,
right?

But when I hear his Bach,

I'm not aware
that I'm listening to Bach.

I'm only aware I'm listening
to Glenn Gould.

He's infusing the music
with his own eccentric nature.

I remember seeing him once
in Carnegie Hall.

He crossed his left leg
over the right,

and he pedaled
with his right foot.

I told Clifford Curzon
about that.

I said,
"You know, I have a feeling

"if he didn't act
so eccentric,

he wouldn't play so well. "

And Clifford said to me
in his English accent,

"Laddie, I'm so sorry
to disillusion you,

but I know an intimate friend
of Glenn Gould's. "

"And one night, Glenn Gould
called his friend and said,

"'I wowed them last night.

I crossed my left leg
over the right. "'

So you see,
he did it on purpose.

Yeah, but then-
then your idea of an artist

is that you
isolate yourself more,

and you exist
in some safer place

but also one less connected
to maybe your talents, even.

I love to, uh, ascribe

to be like amateur musicians-

namely, to do it for love

and not just
for commercial purposes.

To me, it's partly about
your desire to find a place,

a safe place
disconnected from,

you know, the-the hurly-burly
of-of the real world,

which does buffet every person
who's trying to make a career,

whether they're doing it
on Wall Street

or whether they're doing it
in Carnegie Hall

or whether they're doing it
on a stage or whatever.

But don't you think somebody
who's very talented

and has something to say
as a performer-

you say this to your students;
you've said it to me...

Yes.

Has a responsibility
that transcends

whether or not
it feels good to them

or whether they don't like,
you know,

the-the machinations
of the music world

or-or the-
the business side of this?

Isn't there
some responsibility

which you abdicate
when you leave the stage?

I'm hearing you, Michael.

So go really soft.

That's it.

Now disappear.

Okay, you have the most noble
posture when you play.

But when you get very emotional,
as you just were,

'cause you play
very emotionally,

you do this.

Watch.

Right?

I'm exaggerating,
right, right?

The energy gets pulled
right out of the keyboard.

All right, so do you see this
slowly gliding towards that E

and then gliding away?

Now do it.

Good.

Now, first of all,
that was exquisite.

Secondly, you looked gorgeous.

57 years ago...

This month,
as a matter of fact,

in April, 57 years ago...

Do you know anybody who has been
living in one-room apartment

for 57 years?

Not who's not a monk.

I'm very close to being one.

'Cause I loved my solitude,
of course.

I thrive on solitude.

I have to be by myself

in order to sort out
all the thoughts

that course through my mind.

Our social world
is unpredictable.

Someone who may be
the closest to you

can one day say something,

and somehow
the relationship dissolves.

I have to tell you that our art
is totally predictable.

Music will never change.

When Beethoven
puts a B flat down,

that's there forever.

Because of the predictability
of music,

when we work at it,

we have a sense of order,

harmony, predictability,

and something we can control.

Your initial response
to music occurs

without intellectual analysis.

Gifted children,
for example,

often project
deep musical feeling

without being aware

of musical structure
or historical facts.

It is this kind of innocence

from which adults can learn.

Therefore in practicing,

avoid excess of analysis,

and allow the music
to reveal its own beauty,

a beauty that is answered
by something deep within you.

A Zen philosopher
put it this way:

"If you would paint
a chrysanthemum,

"look at one for ten years

until you become one. "

It-it seems to me,
in America particularly,

there is a great contempt
for craft.

I'm sorry.

The story
that Americans want is,

"Oh, I had so much talent,
I just went out there. "

What they want
is the Flashdance fallacy,

that talent is it.

They don't like
to think about craft.

They think
that's boring or something.

But, you know,

unfortunately,
in certain fields,

craft is necessary.

I get that comment a lot.

When I-
after I play, after concerts,

they go,
"Oh, it's so great.

You can just sit down
and play that piece. "

And it's like, you can't just
sit down and play it.

That's, like, a thou-

That's thousands and thousands
of hours of-of practice.

Without craft,
there isn't any real artistry.

I try to actually
educate people.

And I talk-recently when I've
been playing the Chopin Etudes,

I'll actually play it
slowly first.

Yes.

And demonstrate
what it's like to practice

at a slow tempo.

And then I tell people,
you know,

this is what goes on
for hours and hours

for months and months until you
can perform it like this.

Now, that's making a real
contribution to your audience.

Seymour hasn't
played in front of people

in 35 years, and I'm gonna make
him wait a little bit longer

while I tell, like,
a really long story.

I decided to confide with him

my most terrifying secret,

which was that I've been,

for the last, like,
five years or so,

performing with a sometimes
really crippling

stage fright.

I mean, it was
a longer conversation,

but the bottom line
of it was that,

"Most people should be a lot
more nervous," he said to me,

that a great many artists
are not nervous enough.

And you-and you didn't
tell them what I told you

about nervousness
and Sarah Bernhardt.

She went to her dressing room

to dress for a-
for a performance,

and in front of the door,

there was a young actress

with an autograph book.

With a trembling hand like this,
she signed her autograph.

The young actress was just
amazed at the trembling hand,

and she said,

"Madam, I don't mean
to be presumptuous,

"but I see
that you're nervous.

Why is it that I never
get nervous when I have to act?"

And Sarah Bernhardt took
her hand like this and said,

"Oh, my poor dear.

You will get nervous
when you learn how to act. "

Do you know how many men tried
to subdue the feminine in them?

Well, look, here's Beethoven.

Right?
I mean, that's a man doing this.

Right?

Picture this.

He's playing this for
the first time in the world...

To a room filled
with his colleagues.

The Moonlight Sonata, right?

He finished playing,
and they were all crying.

So the story-

This story is probably spurious,
but somebody wrote it.

Beethoven stopped, said,
"Men don't cry.

Why are you crying?"

This sensitive guy, you know,

he-he-he had
the feminine in him,

but he tried to subjugate it.

I was called into the army,

but I had never been away
from home at that time.

I was-
led a very sheltered life.

And I remember that ride.

I thought if somebody told me
I was going to my death,

it would have been
the same trauma to me.

When we would go
on forced marches

and the temperature was zero

and we had to go
walk 20 miles

and the guys around me
started to faint

and the ambulances
were following us,

the guys came down
with pneumonia,

Seymour went merrily on his way
to the 20 miles.

I said,
"Now, this is so strange.

Why am I surviving this?"

I knew immediately

it was the mind-set
that I developed as a musician.

Suddenly an order
came through.

Seymour was shipped off
to Korea.

I was with
a wonderful violinist

by the name
of Kenneth Gordon.

I went to the lieutenant
of that company

that we were assigned to.

I said, "Can we give a concert
for the guys here?"

He said, "Classical music?
Are you kidding?

Nobody's gonna listen
to classical music here. "

"Let us try. "

So I went to a Korean MP school

and borrowed a grand piano
from them.

And I requisitioned a truck
with six Korean laborers

who never spoke a word
of English.

I never moved a piano
in my life.

The lieutenant sent for special
gabardine uniforms for us

and sent us on a concert tour.

Where?

On the front lines.

We played for soldiers

who had never before heard
classical music.

And some of the guys
would cry.

We played serious music
for them.

We didn't play down to them.

The guys wouldn't let us
off the stage.

I kept a diary.

I hadn't looked at that diary
for 20 years.

So one Sunday,
I took it out,

and I cried the whole day.

Because I remember body bags.

And I b-I blocked it out.

I didn't want to face it.

And there it was in my diary.

I tried not to cry.
I knew this was gonna happen.

My teacher, Clifford Curzon-

for him,
the only important thing

is how softly the piano
will play.

No good.

So Clifford Curzon
only tried-

Clifford Curzon
played so soft.

They were, like, worried.

They said,
"You know, are you gonna-

are they gonna be able
to hear you?"

He said, "I don't care. "

He plays to himself.
That's it.

Do you know what he did?

He blindfolded me once
down here.

He sat me down,
and he went from piano to piano,

and sometimes
he rattled the chair

so I thought he was going
to another one,

but he was
at the same-

The same piano.
Wow.

And he said,
"Which one is the best?"

I always knew
which one was the best.

Horrid. Horrors.

It's gonna be even worse.

Better.

This is not bad.

Is this a Hamburg Steinway?

No, this is-
this is a New York Steinway.

- This is a New York Steinway?
- Very new.

There it is.

- See those two chords?
- Mm-hmm.

You can't do that
on most pianos.

So if you voice a chord...

Whoa.

That's just gorgeous.

The soft pedal is so good.

Oh, it's just heaven.

I don't-have never,
ever in my life

played on a piano
like this.

- Really?
- Yes.

I have to tell you
the truth.

Wow.

I can't-
It's too good to be true.

Clifford Curzon was one
of the great English pianists.

Well, you know,
he was always my hero-

not only my hero.

I think almost all the pianists

who heard him play

thought that he's-

he's the model
of what you should be,

especially when you play
Mozart and Schubert.

I asked him
if I could study with him.

He said,
"Well, come to London.

I'll teach you
for six months. "

So I got a grant-

the Martha Baird Rockefeller
grant-to study with him.

So now I'm in my 40s,
I think,

and he came to New York
every two years.

While he was here,
I saw him every night,

usually in the basement
of Steinway.

I would play
the orchestral accompaniment

for his concertos

that he had to play
with major orchestras.

So one day, I thought,

"Other great English musicians
were knighted.

Why don't they knight
Clifford Curzon?"

So one day,
I penned a letter to the queen.

"Dear Majesty,
we in America

wonder why Clifford Curzon
has not been knighted. "

I addressed it
Buckingham Palace, London.

One day, a beautiful
white envelope arrived

with a lion red coat of arms

on the back of it.

I opened it up,
and the letter said,

"Her Majesty the Queen

"has commanded me

to send your letter
to the prime minister. "

And the next month,
Clifford was knighted.

Now,
whether my letter did it

or whether
it was a coincidence

can't be confirmed.

I have to find out
if you're breathing correctly.

Do I have permission
to touch you?

Okay. Okay.

'Cause, you know,
you have to ask permission.

Otherwise, you get arrested.

This is a balloon,

your diaphragm
right here, right?

Okay, ex-exhale.

Empty out.
Empty it out completely.

Now inhale.

Not bad.
Not bad.

Whoa!

Very good.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Uh-ah-uh.

Most of us breathe
so poorly that it is a wonder

how we stay alive.

I joined a physical movement
course.

I did exercises, which
I strongly advise you to do.

I moved my head

clockwise very slowly

and then counterclockwise.

d La d

d La d

d La d

The important thing
to learn about the soft pedal

is that it changes
the quality of sound

on the piano.

Let us shed our guilt

concerning the use
of the soft pedal.

While no one has ever
successfully defined music,

we can, at least,
permit ourselves to say of it

that it is a language
of feeling.

Music, therefore,
has often been referred to

as a universal language.

Maria Callas said that
there were two people inside her.

One was Maria,
and the other was Callas.

Maria was the rather
ordinary woman

who wanted
rather ordinary things.

Callas was this archetypal
shamanic force.

There was a war
between these two beings.

What's so wonderful
about you,

why I love you so much,
is that in you,

there is no separation

from the friend you are

and the master musician
you are.

I didn't used to feel
this way.

I didn't used to be
integrated.

I began to feel this way,
I believe...

when I started to survive
on the stage.

When I placed tremendous
challenges before me,

only to be cast down,

something in me said,

"Really, you're inadequate?

Well, then stop beefing about it
and make yourself adequate. "

Instead of practicing
four hours a day,

I turned it to eight.

The struggle
is what makes the art form.

I go to war
for my art form.

Prenatally,
I guess I knew immediately

that life-
that's how life is.

It has conflicts
and pleasures,

harmony and dissonance.

That's how life is.
Can't escape it.

By the way,
the same thing occurs in music.

There are dissonances
in harmony

and resolutions.

I believe that you won't enjoy
the resolution

unless you have that dissonance.

What would it be if we didn't
have the dissonance?

We wouldn't know the meaning
of the resolution.

Hey, Seymour.

When your father would say
that he had three daughters

and a pianist,

what did you think?

Everyone laughed
when he said that.

I felt insulted.

I felt that
he couldn't say

he has three daughters
and a son

'cause he couldn't identify
with the son that he had.

After a while,
when I was adult enough

to sort of-a little mystic,
what I'm going to say-

I create a translucent dome
around myself,

a protective dome.

Outside are flying
all the ravens,

who symbolize all the people

who are detractors
in my life,

who don't really
want me to succeed

for their selfish reasons.

Even though I can see them,
they can't touch me anymore.

Guess who my father is.

He's one of those ravens.

He's picking
at the translucent dome,

but he can't get in.

Our culture deliberately
drives people to focus outside

so it can control them.

Because if you can
make people

slaves of consumerism,
slaves of success,

slaves of status,

you can manipulate them
completely.

So the role of music
in our culture is crucial,

because music is the art
most sacredly capable

of helping us get in touch

with the deepest passions
and compassions

and deepest understandings
of ourselves.

Well, the ancient Greeks
knew that because,

you know,
they had a quadrivium.

- There were four subjects...
- Yes.

Without which they felt
that the human could not develop.

One of the four subjects
was music.

Somebody asked me about, um,
taking piano lessons, right?

Suppose a child
doesn't feel like it,

isn't drawn to music.

So I said to this person,

"Now, let's compare this
with going to school.

"Little Harry wakes up
on a Thursday morning and says,

'Mommy, I don't feel
like going to school. "'

I said, "It's unthinkable

"that Little Harry
can't go to school.

"He has to go to school
whether he likes it or not.

"There will be no TV.

"There will be no meeting
with your friends.

"You take your pick.

"You're going to practice
one hour every day.

"And I'm going to supervise it.

How do you like that?"

Well, now, do parents talk
to their children that way?

Of course not.

- And what happens?
- Except the tiger moms.

They're half-developed children
when they become adults.

I think the key is
that music can produce ecstasy.

And once
you experience ecstasy,

you can't be sold
a shoddy load of goods.

You can't be sold success.

You learn to reject.

You know that
this is the core of life.

You have the touchstone

from which you can judge
everything else.

One of the ways in which
philosophers have said

music is most divine

is that music, like God,
is invisible.

- You can't see it.
- Right.

- It's intangible.
- Right.

And yet it has this
most penetrating of effects.

Yes.

And so it is a direct emanation

of the transcendent beauty

of the beloved.

And one of the things that has
happened to me in my life

is that through
my mystical education,

I did actually
have an experience

of the music that is creating
the whole universe.

I heard everything
in creation...

You heard-

Singing ecstatically
the name of God.

- You heard that?
- I heard it.

And I heard the whole of reality
singing together

in an unbelievable
polyphony of glory.

Really?

For me, the difference
between religion and music

is, religion requires faith.

Right.

Because you can't
prove certain-

You can't prove
that God exists.

No.

It's faith
that tells you that.

You can experience it,
but you can't prove it.

Right.

But in music,
there is the language

written out for you.

So I asked
myself, "Why are there so many

huge pieces in B flat?"

I mean, do you think
it's a coincidence

that Beethoven's longest
and most-

in terms of length
and scope-

Piano Sonata, String Quartet,
and Piano Trio

are over 50 minutes long
and all in the key of B flat?

And then Schubert
writes a sonata like that.

Brahms has major pieces
in B flat.

Yes.

On the NASA website,
they discovered

a black hole
that was resonating

on the note B flat,
57 octaves below middle C.

- Oh, that's fascinating.
- This is on the NASA website.

No, no, I'm sorry.

I knew this was gonna happen.
Go ahead.

Okay, first of all,
as you know, pitch has changed

since the time of Schubert.

His B flat
is not our B flat.

If you're gonna relate it
to this NASA thing...

Okay.

Then we've got
to be scientific.

- So you reject this?
- No, not necessarily.

But before I answer
that question, we have to-

See, I think it appeals to
the universal language of music.

And if the universe is
resonating on the note B flat

and that's the note
that Beethoven

and Schubert and Brahms
choose to create

their biggest monumental
masterpieces-

Well, now, wait a minute-

Don't you think
that's significant?

And see, this is what
I would tell an audience

who's never heard it before

to get them
in some kind of mental space

where they're contemplating
the cosmos

and into this, you know,

metaphysical realm
that I believe

the Schubert First Movement
lives in.

People are
searching for some answers,

some stability

that will make them
lead a happier life.

It says in the Bible,

"The help cometh
from the Lord within. "

I call it
a spiritual reservoir.

I don't call it God.

Most people don't tap
that resource

of the God within.

What upsets me about religion

is that the answers
always seem

to be apart from us

in the form of a deity.

And we depend upon the deity
for salvation.

But I firmly believe
that it's within us.

Okay, now,
when the orchestra comes in,

you can't play the same.

You-this is wonderful now.

Now you have to minimize it.

- Yeah.
- Now do it that way.

Hush.

Good.

Oh,
now you're sounding better-

ten times better
than the last time I heard.

- Isn't that some piano?
- It is.

- It's extraordinary, right?
- Yeah.

I chose it for the rental.

We're gonna give a concert
for Ethan's theater group.

Whatever that B flat is,

this is a decoration of it.

It's just a decoration of it.

Not...

See, every note
can't be passionate.

Now do it all.
Do it all.

That a boy.

Music is just,
like, my being.

Like, everything that I do
is somehow related to music.

Just, like, the way I act,
it's all music.

When I'm playing
the piano,

I have to listen
so carefully and so-

with such precision to what's
coming out of the instrument.

- And love.
- And love, yeah.

And when you apply that

to listening
to someone speak,

you can really catch
a lot of their emotions.

So just learning
to listen to yourself

makes you able
to listen to other people.

During the romantic
period, it was unthinkable

for anyone to study
an instrument

who didn't compose.

- Creativity...
- Oh, absolutely.

And re-creativity
went hand in hand.

There were no computers.
There was no television.

- Right.
- There were no distractions.

And I'm going
to say the unsayable:

general education.

We have to waste
all our time in school

learning all this stuff.

They were specialized earlier.

And as to whether that's
a good thing or bad thing,

I'm not gonna say,
but it's completely different.

Specialized
in a certain sense.

You specialize,
everyone's gonna get

really good at one thing,
and then it should be better.

But it's not really like that.

And you told me when I was 15
I remember you saying this,

because I had started
composing then.

You said, "You should
always have a piece

that you've composed
for each concert. "

And actually,
now with my 88-concert tour,

that's exactly
what I'm doing.

So that's another thing
about your aesthetic

that I've definitely
am very aware of,

the idea that you should
keep composing.

- If you do it yourself...
- Absolutely.

Then you get closer
to the creative process

of the music
that you're playing.

Right.

When you reach my age,

you stop playing games.

You stop lying to people,

and you just say
really what's in your heart.

And you find out

that it's the greatest
compliment to someone

when you really
say the truth

and don't just say
what they expect you to say.

Every piano is like a person.

They build them
the same way.

They never come out
the same way,

because human factor
of putting everything together.

Then the soundboard,
the wood is alive.

Every tree is different.

So the soundboard vibrates.

Each soundboard
has different wood.

It can never be the same.

299.

299-well, do you think
that's gonna be our selection?

Is it available
for April the 5th?

April the
5th? I'll have to check.

Just going right upstairs,
you see.

Right.

Oh, it will be terrible
if it's rented.

- For April the 5th?
- Yeah.

Did you hear
how beautiful it sounds?

It's unbelievable, huh?

All right, good.

Well, is this
one gonna be available

for his show, you think?

I wouldn't have shown it
if it wasn't available.

Okay, great.

- April 5th?
- Yep.

It's gonna be up
in the rotunda.

- If you want it.
- I want it.

Well, take it out
of my commission.

Okay. All right.
Very good.

How much is it to rent?

We don't charge.
You're a Steinway artist.

We don't charge rent.

Oh, that's good.
So it'll just be rolled up?

It'll just be rolled up.

Oh, how wonderful.
See? Free.

I think a lot of people
spend the bulk of their life

not trying to play better

but by trying
to gain more things.

For me, personally,

I can look around,
and I can see that

that doesn't actually
make people happy.

I'm looking at myself,
and I'm saying,

"You have the second half
of your life ahead of you.

"If it's not for material gain,

"if I don't have a specific
religious calling,

what is it
that I'm living it for?"

The whole system of life

is geared to make you think
about success.

Often, doing my art
the best

and equating that with any kind
of financial success are just-

they're just wildly
at odds with one another.

- Of course they are.
- And so-

They can even get in the way
of one another.

- Yeah.
- Yes.

So the most "successful"
things I've done

have been some of the worst
things I've done.

And sometimes I think that

just playing life
more beautifully

is what I'm after.

But I don't know
how to do it.

But don't you do it
through acting?

Well, I don't know which-

Uh, I want to do it
through acting, yeah.

- But you don't feel it?
- But the world...

I can. I can.

So did you think
in the end

that you found
your creative identity

as a teacher?

Very much so.

Once I called my career
to an end,

everything became clearer

and made me happier,
fulfilling.

And many people said to me
what you said.

Yeah.
What's your answer?

Don't you have
a responsibility?

Sure, what's your answer now,
all these years later?

I have a wonderful answer.

I poured it into you.

Again, again, this passage.

Well, on the first day
that I was in Korea,

when I was so scared to death-

absolutely scared to death-

I didn't know where I was.

They didn't tell us
where we were,

'cause there was a war
going on.

And I woke up
at 5:00 in the morning,

and everything was covered
with mist.

And I went into the mess hall,

and I got some peanuts
and whatever there was to eat,

and I went outside,
and I was eating the peanuts.

And out of the mist,

I saw a little nose appear.

And it was a fawn,

and it evidently had been
tamed by the guys there.

It came right up to me

and snuggled in my palm
for the peanuts.

And I just thought,
"I must be in heaven.

"I must have been killed.

This has to be heaven. "

In contemplating my own
connection to music,

I always return
to the same answer:

universal order.

If the heavenly constellations

offer us visual proof
of this order,

then music must be
its aural manifestation.

Through its language,

we become one
with the stars.

Music speaks concordantly

to a troubled world,

dispelling loneliness
and discontent,

its voice
discovering in it

those deep recesses
of thought and feeling

where truth implants itself.

Music offers no quarter
for compromise,

no excuses,

no subterfuge,

no shoddy workmanship.

And we sense in music

an extension of ourselves,

a reminder
of our own potential

for perfection.

And when did you meet Seymour?

Uh, it was 1999 in Japan.

And then I just
fell in love with him.

His music.

So if you don't
understand technique,

you don't have an idea,

a conception of what
it's supposed to sound,

that's just technique.

It's moving your arms
this way.

It's moving your arm
that way.

But he describes motions,
and it connects

how the music
is supposed to feel

along with your emotions
inside.

And everything comes together
and makes a lot more sense.

Seymour showed me
what a musician could be.

'Cause I had no idea.

I mean, I hadn't heard it.

I hadn't encountered people
in my life

that were serious
about music in the way

that he's serious
about music.

I feel like composer
must be happy in heaven.

'Cause they should...

How should I say it?

Yeah, he gave every-
every single message

hiding in the music,

bring up.

I mentioned Schumann before.

And this is the last movement

of his Fantasie Opus 17.

This piece was
a kind of wedding present

by Schumann
for his beloved Clara.

Well, this is one
of the greatest pieces

that was ever written.

It's so beautiful that it's
almost impossible to practice,

because you try
to practice it,

and you're drawn
from the beginning to the end.

You can't stop.

Schumann married Clara
when he was 25.

She was 16.

And he chose a motto,
"Throughout all music,

"there sounds the colorful dream
of the earth,

"one quiet note

played for a secret
eavesdropper. "

Then he sent this music
to Clara,

and he told her,

"You are the note
of my life,

and you are
the secret eavesdropper. "

It's so gorgeous.

Over the bar now.

Mm-mm.
See, one of them just ends.

This one ends.

And this one
is a longer idea.

So have to remember
to keep up the sound here.

And now the bass
just rips me apart.

It's so beautiful.

It's just
impossibly beautiful.

Then here's one
of my favorite places.

Let's see.
Where is that?

It's in octaves, you see?

So which hand should be more-
I think the right hand.

And now the darkness
of the left hand.

Whenever I play
this passage here...

It's sort of like
someone doing this

to my chest,

like, patting for comfort.

Now here comes
one of the biggest climaxes

in all of music!

The end of this piece
is very problematic.

Nobody-no two people-
ever do the same.

The reason
it's so problematic

is because the composer
didn't leave any markings.

Suddenly, he just left it
to our own devices.

So some people
just whimper away here.

They whimper away
like this

and play the coda,
which is the end of the piece,

all soft.

And I do just the opposite.

I just keep the intensity
going.

I never dreamt

that with my own two hands,

I could touch the sky.

Thank you.