Word: keyboard
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...many people," sighs Pianist Daniel Barenboim, "regard music as a matter of ability." In Barenboim's case, that is understandable enough. At 24, the short (5 ft. 6 in.), mop-haired Israeli has the ability in his small hands to master the full range of keyboard sounds and effects. Barenboim shrugs it off. Technique is essential, but what counts more is musicianship...
...cigar clenched between my teeth, my derby tilted back, knees crossed, and my back arched at a sharp angle against the back of the chair. I'd cuss at the keyboard and then caress it with endearing words; a pianist who growls, hums, and talks to the piano is a guy who is trying hard to create something for himself...
...rippled off rocking arpeggios and lacy melodies in such original com positions as Echoes of Spring and Passionette; then, in up-tempo drivers like I Found a New Baby and Sweet Georgia Brown, he unleashed his juggernaut left hand to stride and stomp around the lower half of the keyboard while his right hand danced up high in finger-blurring filigrees or punched out syncopated chords. A resplendent showman in his red vest, derby and cigar (which he occasionally chomps in half during the heat of creation, especially when singing), he continues to strike inventive sparks off the keys...
Kyung (dubbed Cookie by Galamian) is one of seven musical children of an importer who now lives in Seattle. She started on piano at four, but switched to violin two years later because "I kept going to sleep at the keyboard" She left Seoul for Juilliard at twelve, knowing no English. As composed and lovely as a porcelain doll, she "never felt more comfortable" than in the competition, was calm enough to nap during the two-hour wait for the jury's decision...
...complex rhythms and bold colors of African music. Aided by Nedi Quamar's African thumb piano (a handmade wooden box holding long metal prongs that are plucked), Renaud Simmons' conga and Joe Chamber's drums, he conjures up a thundering, lashing storm with sweeps across the keyboard -and then lets it fade into the silver pinging of random raindrops. Freddie Hubbard's trumpet has a cry for every change of mood...