Adorned in snowy red rain boots and a large oversized coat, I was greatly surprised when I was led into the Lied Center and brought up onto the main stage, where they had arranged seats around the grand piano. Sitting directly behind the pianist’s seat, I was going to get the experience of watching the performance in the most intimate manner. Nervously aware of my dripping red rain boots making a mess on the stage floor, I was quickly distracted when Steven Spooner swiftly walked onto the stage, bowed, sat, and aggressively threw his hands onto the keys in a motion that took less than a second. And thus the concert went, the pianist playing with complete confidence, assuming his role as Chopin with poise. At times, when the music hit an assertive note, he would stomp his left foot, reel his head back, and raise an asymmetrical hand, frozen until the next note. In these moments he looked as the crazed Frankenstein, obsessed and enthralled with his creation. When the music lulled, I found myself drained and sleepy, only to be cuffed when the aggression resumed. The concert was one of dramatics, the pianist playing the role of puppeteer and deciding our sensations with the strokes of his fingers on the keys. The entire audience relinquished their emotional control to the music, and for one hour and a half, on a Sunday afternoon, we all befriended Chopin.
