Not as magical as the previous two posts, but close. Me back when I was a sophomore in high school butchering Chopin’s “Revolutionary” Etude Op. 10, No. 12.
This is also magical.
Favorite piece I’ve ever played. 4:37 is magical.
I want to be Noma Han. Or be his friend.
She sat there on the edge of the couch with her hands hanging in her lap and her smoky blue country eyes fixed in a wide stare because she was in an evil gray New York pad that she’d heard about back West, and waiting like a longbodied emaciated Modigliani surrealist woman in a serious room.
“La Femme à l’Éventail” (1919)