Most Memorable Musical Experience 

Scriabin’s 2nd sonata unfolded as a deep sea from my fingers, agitation and

tenderness engrained into each note. I imagined a quiet night as the moonlight caressed the

waves of the shore. The long melodic lines, dreamy and tender, were able to capture and

encompass me. Even in the rests, I kept the pedal depressed, allowing the lush and thick

harmonies to reverberate and echo off of the wall of the concert hall. The feeling after I removed

my hands from the ivories was unsurpassed and yet, the feeling I had while playing the piece

although difficult was also strangely natural. It left me captivated by music and led me into a

reverie filled with a type of synesthesia, or combining of all of my senses. A Mediterranean blue

haze was in front of my eyes that resembled the water-type sonata that I had just performed.

This moment was significant to me not because of the piece that I played, although that did

contribute to it. It was more accurately the feeling that was within me that the piece produced. It

was a feeling that for a split second gave meaning to my life. I never had that feeling before. This

natural euphoric moment gives me the desire and motivation to continue pursuing the arts and to

explore the textured world of my passion.

I spent an entire year on the Scriabin sonata with my teacher, throughout the painful lessons; I

attempted to perfect every phrase. But somehow one idea would challenge the previous one and

sometimes I would find myself vanished in the music, wondering how to make a coherent

interpretation out of it. But with time and studying the piece with different teachers, it slowly

came to me, naturally. At times, I found myself having difficulty concentrating on the little

details of the music because it was so striking to me. I feel every person has one piece that strikes

a blaze in their heart. This sonata was that piece for me.

When I actually performed it, I was frightened of all the hard work going to waste as a result of

my stage fright. Shockingly, when I played the first opening chords of the piece, I felt no

apprehension or fright at all. It was a very exceptional experience, for I have been known to have

such stage fright that I was on the verge of passing out backstage. My legs would shake, my

hands would be sweaty, and I would have a million thoughts racing throughout my head. But of

course, every musician experiences this. But with this performance, I did not feel the slightest bit

of tension, and was fully able to give my attention to every phrase and melodic line.

Although this musical experience was unique and memorable in many ways, it taught me a

priceless lesson in music. Although musicians should widen their musical taste and study various

pieces, I have learned that they should only perform the ones they feel closest to, and adore most.

The audience realizes when they see someone deeply involved in the piece, and it forms a strong

relationship between the artist and the listener. In my future performing career, if I have one, I

would promise myself to only play pieces that I feel a true connection to, like the Scriabin

sonata. That would be doing justice to the music, rather than playing something just to play it.