Last Saturday night I gave a “preview” of the Chopin recital that will close this year’s Trasimeno Music Festival on July 2nd. I always like to go once a year to a friend’s house in Kent (Shelley Phillips who is the secretary, in fact, of the UK Friends of the Trasimeno Music Festival) where she and her husband have the most amazing barn converted into a concert hall. The reasons behind choosing that particular programme were twofold: first of all, it gave me the chance to perform the huge Sonata for cello and piano by Chopin for the first time (that I have been working so hard on the past month and a half—in my spare time); and it was an occasion to work on the Chopin songs with soprano Ilona Domnich, who will also be the soloist in Italy (to my left in the photo). Ilona is a beautiful singer and has a lovely personality—just what was needed for those pieces. Those of you coming to this concert on July 2nd are in for a real treat! It’s always satisfying for me when somebody I’ve chosen to work with turns out to be so special. For the cello sonata, the young English cellist Marie MacLeod (to my right in the photo!) did a fantastic job with her very difficult part. I was rather dreading the first rehearsal after listening to several recordings that, in my opinion, sounded so…well…un-Chopin-like. But with Marie it was easy and my opinion of the piece was vastly upgraded. At the festival, the soloist will be Pieter Wispelwey. In the second half, I played the “Funeral March” Sonata and the group of pieces from the ballet “Les Sylphides” which I simply adore. At one point in the songs, the family cat came in through the open door (it was a hot evening) and walked around, going between the piano and Ilona, and finally leaving after seeing what it was all about. First time I’ve shared the stage with a cat.

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On Tuesday night this week I gave the last concert of the season for the Istituzione Universitaria dei Concerti in Rome. I also opened their season last October, and wasn't supposed to play again except that during the volcano, they lost a concert when the Hilliard Ensemble had to cancel, so this was an extra add-on to make up the series for their subscribers. In any case, it's always a pleasure to play for them in the Aula Magna of La Sapienza, and this time I took my own piano which was even better! What a palaver to get it in and out of my house--which I did again tonight when I played the same programme in the Teatro Mengoni here in Magione--my town on Lake Trasimeno. The occasion was the centenary of the death of the poetess Vittoria Aganoor Pompilj who, along with her husband who was a senator, did a lot for the town and also to save the lake from destruction (it was going to be drained but they stopped it). So out my piano went again, and then came back at midnight because the movers have several other jobs tomorrow and I need to practise. About 200 people came to listen, which was great. Hopefully some will return at festival time. At the end I told them how important my life here in Italy is to me--which is true. It's a bit strange having three homes (and for sure more work), but it adds spice to life, and each one is different and very important in its own way. In the photo, I'm on the fantastic Corso Vanucci in the centre of Perugia--I went the other day to have a meeting in the offices of the provincial government. It's a beautiful time of year when everything is so green and the plants are growing fast. The birds are eating my strawberries, though. I guess they get at them in the early morning before I even get up. It's now 2 a.m. I should go to bed.

All good things come to an end. And so did the tour with the Basel Chamber Orchestra. But hopefully it won't be the last time! Our final concert in Bristol had the audience stomping the floor in approval. It was a long day. The orchestra took an 8 a.m. flight, but I decided to get a few more hours sleep and so got on the train from Glasgow at 10 a.m. About six hours later I arrived in Bristol (having worked the whole journey at my computer), just in time to do my hair, grab a baked potato at the cafe round the corner, and rehearse for a few minutes on stage. After a quick sip of champagne with the orchestra (the sip in the photo was actually after the Glasgow concert the night before--the orchestra had significantly more girls in it than guys--although I have a photo with them as well but it was harder to reduce it for this blog!), I got on the last train back to London Paddington, arriving home well after 1 a.m. A Canadian friend recently wrote me that anyone considering becoming a concert pianist should read my blog. It takes a lot more than just being able to play the notes! You need stamina in a big way. Yesterday my place looked as though a tornado had blown through it, it was such a mess. Today I already rehearsed at home for friends my programme for Rome on Tuesday night--more repertoire! It's great to play Chopin's Funeral March Sonata again--one of my old warhorses. I will be playing that at my Trasimeno Music Festival as well.

Many of you have written me to ask why there is nothing in my schedule after the festival. In fact one man asked if I were about to retire. Fat chance of that! Two reasons: first of all, I simply haven't got round to entering my concerts for the 2010-11 season, also because some are still being decided and I don't like to announce things before they are announced by the promoters themselves. But I have an assistant working on the links, so before too long something will appear. But the main reason is something which I've already said in this diary--that technically I am on a mini-sabbatical beginning next week! Other than my festival in Italy (June 26 to July 2), I have no concerts this summer until the end of September. Isn't that great? I had to schedule this in three years ago, and I turned down an awful lot of work. I am desperate for the break from travelling. It won't be a break from working--not at all. On the contrary, I have a million new notes to learn. But at least I won't have to pack a suitcase all the time. More about that soon. So if you want to hear me this summer, come to Umbria! You won't regret it! The booking of tickets to all events is now open to the general public. Please visit:

http://www.trasimenomusicfestival.com/program.php

Last night the capacity crowd at London's Wigmore Hall cheered before I played a note. The musicians of the Basel Chamber Orchestra (really great people) commented on this. I said that bit was from my home-town crowd and for the new dress (finally a new one--not the one in the photo). How we managed to get 18 musicians including 3 cellos and a double-bass, me, and the Fazioli grand piano (minus the lid) onto that small stage I have no idea. Some of the violinists were almost standing in the flower pots. After the expansive stage and marvellous hall in Dublin (National Concert Hall) it felt cramped at first, but then in the concert we just relaxed and played the music with all our collective hearts and it was really exciting. Each concert gets better, we feel. That's why it's nice to tour with a group, especially with a programme of Bach of which you never get tired. It was a rush getting down from Dublin to London, with a late arrival, a lost suitcase for our leader, Julia, who then had to borrow clothes and shoes from the other girls in the orchestra, and me, having picked up the cold that's going round the orchestra, running home for under two hours, just giving me time to buy a steak around the corner at the butchers and to make myself a meal. In less than an hour now, I'm back out to Heathrow to fly to Glasgow. Dublin was great, although I never got further than the hotel and the concert hall which were no more than 50 metres from each other. Such warm people (I do have some Irish blood in me, as well as Scottish and English!). The photo was taken by the orchestra's stage manager, I presume from behind the window of the stage door, and I think on the last chord of the G minor Concerto. He is also a musician and would have known when it was coming. The terrific leader, Julia Schröder, is behind me.

Another day dodging the volcanic ash cloud. And we made it! How thoughtful of them to re-open Dublin Airport just in time for the flight to go out to Zurich which then brought us here. And even on time! Yesterday I was ready to do the land and sea route again, determined as I am never to miss a concert if I can help it. But it wasn't necessary, thank goodness. Last night we played in a lovely (though very reverberant) church in Liestal, near Basel. Tomorrow the National Concert Hall in Dublin will be full with 1000 people or so. The mixture of Bach and Franck Martin (Swiss composer) is a good one and makes for a very satisfying programme, I think. Now we play four nights in a row: Dublin, London, Glasgow, Bristol. On my night off tonight, I went and practised Chopin for three hours. No time to slack off.

Today (or rather yesterday already) was a lucky day. Valencia airport was open. The day before it was closed, but fortunately all but one of us (me plus the members of the Basel Chamber Orchestra) had arrived the day before--though not without delays. Damn that volcano. My flight from Zurich had to take a different, longer route and stay at no more than 20,000 feet. Hopefully that will be the end of it on this tour. It's already such a demanding one. Last night we gave our first concert in the Palau de la Musica in Valencia to a smallish but very appreciative audience. The orchestra, under the leadership of Julia Schröder is excellent, and this tour will be a musical pleasure for sure. I couldn't be in Valencia and not go to see the Ciudad de las Artes (photo) designed by Santiago Calatrava whom I met last November at the Vatican. I only had time to walk around outside, but it makes an enormous impact on you. I must go back and visit it properly someday. Tonight in Bilbao we played in the wonderful Filarmonica to a very full house. There wasn't time to do anything, however, other than get here, rehearse, dress, eat, and play the concert. Too bad because it's another fascinating city. Tomorrow it's back to Switzerland (where last week we rehearsed) and one day off to practise other repertoire (Chopin!) while staying with some friends. Then the tour resumes. It's now 2 a.m. and time for a few hours in bed before I have to leave for the next flight.

It’s a long trip back from Hong Kong to London. I thought it would never end. Today is one of those nightmare days when I have only a few days to turn around before I leave again, and there is a pile of mail on the table, laundry to do, bills to pay, groceries to get, orchestral parts to send off for the next tour…a million things. Everybody tells me to get an assistant. I already have many people around the world helping me with this and that, but when I’m at home I still like to do it myself. I’m quick and it’s actually nice to have the peace of my own apartment without having to spend extra energy telling somebody what to do. Maybe someday…But on to more interesting things: the concerts in Hong Kong with the Philharmonic were a huge pleasure. It was actually the first time I've worked with an orchestra in Asia for almost 20 years.I was really thrilled with how they managed this difficult programme (great wind playing!) and I think they enjoyed it as much as I did. The audience certainly seemed to! We must have had at least 3000 people over the two nights, and I was signing autographs and having my picture taken for an hour after each performance. Exhausting! They were incredibly quiet during the concert, which is all the more remarkable when you realize that most of them were young people—including many six- and seven-year-olds such as this tiny girl in the photo. We gave two encores on each night: the first I played alone (Kempff’s arrangement of Wachet Auf for those of you who have asked me); and then repeated the Largo from the Bach F minor Keyboard Concerto. A fan begged me to take a photo of Hong Kong in better weather than the one below (the sun did indeed come out one day and the sky was blue!), but I never got round to it—sorry! Being there a week, I gradually found my way around Causeway Bay and enjoyed my daily ferry rides across the harbour. For the concerts I again played Fazioli (provided by Parson's Music). Some fans even came from Japan for the event! I was standing at the entrance to my hotel before one of the concerts when a couple went out the door into the street. A minute later they came back. They had recognized me, I guess, and wanted to say that after hearing my Tokyo recital, they wanted to hear my "sound" again, and had come all that way. And my ardent Japanese admirer who organized last week's party was also there. It's great when music moves people to do something special like that.

We just had a spectacular downpour in Hong Kong. It perhaps wasn’t the best decision to take the ferry from Kowloon (where I have been rehearsing all day with the Hong Kong Philharmonic in a rehearsal hall in the Cultural Centre) back to Hong Kong Central. There were no taxis when I got there, and I got soaked waiting for one. But it’s so much nicer to get on the boat rather than get stuck in the terrible traffic in the tunnel. I took the photo of the very grey skies during a quick lunch break when I went out to get some air—such as it is here. Hong Kong is endlessly fascinating—but also a bit hellish. I can only imagine what it would be like in extreme heat, and am glad this is April and not July. But don’t get me wrong: I’m enjoying it a lot. It was great to have three days just to practise in a small studio (which I shared with 10 timpani, a marimba, and a harp) and have some time to myself to catch up on some writing projects that have imminent deadlines. I also went to a dress designer I know and got three new concert gowns which I need if I am not to be seen wearing the same thing time in and time out! Plus I did some TV and radio interviews. The guy hosting the TV one told me his name was Ben Pelletier…I said that was very Canadian-sounding, to which he replied that Wilfrid Pelletier (the conductor after whom the hall where the Montreal Symphony plays is named) was his great-grandfather. Small world! In the orchestra most of the string players are Asian, but the excellent wind players come from France, England, and I don’t know where else. We had fun (at least I did, I hope they did, too!) working on four piano concertos in one day—2 Bach, 2 Mozart. They hardly ever play that repertoire, and at first I thought it was going to be hard going, but very quickly they caught on, and by the end of the day I felt they were really listening beautifully and responding accordingly. The concerts I am told are sold out already. Everybody wants to get their money’s worth and hear four concertos at once! Now I must cook my dinner (I have a small kitchen and found a supermarket around the corner that has everything you could ever want—typical of Hong Kong), go and pick up my new dresses (if the rain has stopped), and continue writing some CD notes.

Today I did something which I don’t think I’ve done in over 20 years: went for a walk in a park in Tokyo. Some of the cherry blossoms are still out and it was a gorgeous day, with everybody lying on the grass (unlike two days ago when it was raining and freezing cold). I went to Shinjuku Park near my hotel with a Japanese girl I knew as a tiny child growing up in London—now she is 21 years old. It was a side of Tokyo I rarely see, as normally I am shuttled between hotel, concert hall, practise room and that’s about it. So that was relaxing and very good exercise. Last night I hardly slept at all—finally my jet-lag caught up with me—but at least I seemed to be in good shape for the recital yesterday afternoon. I knew that playing the big Brahms Sonata in Tokyo Opera City Concert Hall would be an unforgettable experience, and indeed it was. So different from playing it at Wigmore Hall! There were probably over 1000 people in the audience, and many told me later that they were in tears. One’s whole life passes in front of you playing that piece—at least with me. Before that I played Handel, Haydn, and Beethoven—a really huge programme. The piano was a Fazioli 308, brought in by Alec Weil, the Fazioli dealer in Japan. The clarity and wide range of colour in the instrument were quite astounding in that hall, and reminded me how the combination of piano and hall are inseparable. No use having a good hall with a bad piano or a bad hall with a good piano. It’s amazing how often that happens, though. Alec now has a beautiful showroom in Tokyo with the full range of Faziolis which was where I practised. I was to have given a masterclass on the 21st, but because of the volcano and my long journey, that was impossible. But the day before my recital, I rehearsed part of my programme for friends in the showroom, and listened to the two students who were to have played for me. So at least I was able to help them a little bit. After my recital, and a CD signing that lasted almost an hour, an ardent Japanese fan who attends my festival in Italy every year organized a party in the English pub in Opera City: I sat at one table while about 50 people took turns coming to speak with me (one kind lady even baked me a cake in the shape of a Fazioli--see photo!). At the same time, his elderly mother who does great massage worked hard on my arms. That was very welcome after such a physical effort! Nagoya unfortunately would not re-schedule my concert there. That was a big disappointment after travelling so far to get there in time. Their loss. They owe me one next time.