Schubert Impromptu in F-minor D 935 No. 1

I've been spending more time at the keyboard the past few months. I don't know why I ever accept periods where I can't play every day. I realize how important spending time with the piano has always been to me.

My technique and voicing control remains a bit of a disaster. Yet I see a path forward. It will take many years. I am determined.

I'm performing before a jury panel at Stanford on Tuesday. Of the pieces I learned this quarter, I decided to focus on the first Impromptu from Schubert's second set, No. 1 in F-Minor. There could not be a more sublime creation in this world, excepting perhaps Schubert's Sonata in B-flat D 960 or maybe Chopin's 3rd Sonata. Technically I'm rationing these latter two pieces, lest I lose reason and purpose beyond my middle age.

My playing still suffers from the core issues of my life: always pushing forward toward a goal, yet never really taking the time to enjoy each moment along the way. There is never enough time it seems. Yet in music, I realize there always is plenty of time -- a realization that never manifests in any of my performances. Hence my own sonata which is an incessantly anguished push towards the end. And so, I have no pride over this recording, but retain it (like the others) to remember where I've been, as opposed to where I hope to go.

Impromptu in F-minor D 935 No. 1

(I didn't splice or remaster anything. This recording was the third and final take, all in the space of this evening. Indeed it is authentic, supposing that such a value applies to recordings).