The Diary
of
Anne Ku

26 January 2001 Friday

SIGHTREADING SCRIABIN

After a busy week, I gave my Friday night to myself. I sat in front of the 7 foot Mason & Hamlin grand and played for more than two hours, until Cinderella had to go home.

This studio consisted of one huge room - what used to be a church. The outer case of a 9-footer was being built. A curious bed stood in the centre. It's a place for musicians and artists to get together. My composer/pianist friend kindly lent it to me.

I turned off all lights except for the small head lamp. Scriabin's preludes were mysterious and melancholy. Who was this great master? What was he thinking when he composed?

In the solitude of this great room, I could almost hear myself think. Half way through the book, I started to improvise freely on the ivory keys. I poured the frustrations of the day into the chords. I pounded on the keys as if they were responsible for the events of the week. Scriabin, my dear Scriabin, if you could only hear me now!

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