On May 12th 1936, after a number
of years without performing, the pianist Catherine de Sélys felt
such an urge to have an audience stirred by her side that she decided
to go on a tour that would take her to the four corners of Europe. But
she was so afraid of disappointing her loyal listeners, who in the past
had been so enthusiastic, that on the first night, she was incapable
of playing the slightest note. The silence of the audience seemed to
be too much for her. She was so nervous her earrings began to tinkle;
as soon as her - hopelessly powerless - hand was lifted in a tremble,
her bracelets lightly clicked together; and as they writhed under her
dress, with every movement her legs rustled the fabric. The spectators
had never heard anything like it. How could a pianist produce sounds
so filled with distress and loneliness without even using her instrument,
merely through her graceful dress and jewellery? |