Kemal Gekic, 5 Inch Heels, and the Arrival of Dax

Have you ever been in a situation in which you just feel so embarrassed by what’s going on (even though you have nothing to do with it) that you just have to get up and leave? Jonathan and I had one of those experiences just the other day.

Jonathan, the speedy and athletic man that he is, was able to race and elbow his way past his co-workers again (see “Cloudbursts and the Art of Japanese Flower Arranging” post) to get us tickets to see a famous Croatian pianist perform at a concert hall in Tokyo. His name is Kemal Gekic and he is world- renowned for his ability to play some of the most difficult piano compositions (mainly Liszt) with such intense speed and precision that you are exhausted by the time he is finished. Although for this tour around the world he has abandoned Liszt, his program is still technically impossible and just as exhausting, or so I felt by the time the concert was over.

Jonathan and I were so looking forward to a classy night out. I, of course, was so excited for the chance to dress up that I spent basically the entire day getting ready, even if that meant thinking about what I was going to wear, or how I would do my makeup, or how Jonathan would react when he saw me all dressed up. You women know what I’m talking about. And it’s not like I had some other pressing engagement. As far as my wardrobe goes, I was most looking forward to wearing an amazing pair of shoes that Jonathan’s mother (the woman has exceptional taste) gave me for Christmas. After the earlier disastrous attempt to wear a similar pair of shoes around the city, I decided that I would spend the day wearing them around my apartment, you know, to acclimate myself to walking on skinny sticks about five inches high.

When the time came for Jonathan and I to meet up after work, I was ready to go, with not one, but two coats of mascara, and a well-practiced strut in my sexy little shoes. (Is this getting nauseating yet?) The dress-up had the desired effect on Jonathan, which made me feel even better about the cramps that were forming in the arch of my foot.

We arrived at the intimate concert hall and quickly found our seats. Mr. Gekic, who looks exactly the way a passionate artist should look, walked on stage, quickly sat down, and flung his fingers up and down the keys in a furious storm of movement and sound for an hour straight. It was amazing, but as I mentioned before, exhausting. I didn’t realize how exhausting until I heard a little Japanese man snoring a couple of rows away…oops. After a brief intermission, Gekic reappeared on stage, exactly as before, and played for a second straight hour and a half. The second half was more enjoyable, showcasing a much more mood driven Ravel.

When the concert ended, a thunderous applause erupted from the audience. Gekic bowed graciously for a minute or two and then walked off the stage. Of course, the clapping did not stop, so Gekic walked back on stage to graciously accept the applause again, and then walked off. For the next minute or maybe two, the clapping did not stop, and this time an annoyed Gekic walked back on stage signaling the lights to come up, bowed a couple of more times, and finally, with much attitude, walked off the stage again.

By this time, Jonathan and I are very uncomfortable. It is obvious that this man has no intention of giving an encore, and why should he? He just played for two and a half hours, and not just any piano pieces, these were some of the most intensely difficult pieces ever written. What more can he give? Jonathan and I, as well as several other foreigners, got up and moved towards the exits. Having the lights all the way up while people moved towards the exits was obviously not signal enough for the Japanese audience members who continued to applaud undaunted by the artist’s obvious uncooperative behavior. Just as we were going out of the door, Gekic walked back on stage and stared at the audience for several seconds before he raised his arm and began to speak. Jonathan and I paused to see what he would say.

In a thick accent, Gekic simply said, “I assume you want an encore. I am tired. I just played the most difficult performance in the world and it was two hours long. I can’t imagine what more you could want from me.” He sighed and paused for a moment.

The audience who apparently had no idea what was being said to them erupted again into vibrant, enthusiastic applause. (Remember this audience is Japanese, and even if they could speak English, do you think they are going to understand the heavy accented English of this poor Croatian man?) It was comical really.

Gekic’s head bowed in defeat. There was no convincing this audience. He simply said, “I will play something short.” He sat down and began to bang out something on the huge piano. Jonathan and I, blushing with embarrassment, continued through the door and out of the concert hall in order to separate ourselves more completely from the ravenous audience. It was painful to watch.

Jonathan and I walked home in the rain talking about the poor man who was probably still playing for the greedy audience. It was really a wonderful evening. Jonathan was very romantic, something he is very good at. Really, what can be better than going out in the evening with your husband in a little black dress and heels to a world-renowned piano concert in Tokyo? Not much.

We made it home to find our friends waiting for us. That’s right, my best friend Dax came for a visit with his girlfriend Jillian and long time “fella,” Peter.

We all went out to dinner at Jonathan’s and my favorite little Japanese/Italian restaurant. It’s a funny little place. You never know what size portion you are going to get. I ordered spaghetti and got a huge plateful, while Dax ordered Ravioli and was brought a large platter with four little cheese pockets on the plate. It doesn’t really get more Japanese than that. I think the boys ordered three entrées each before they were filled.

For the next several days we slept five people in our little apartment and had a great time.

The very dramatic, Kemal Gekic. I thought this was a very interesting description, "He is sometimes like the general who has learned all the rules in the book and is therefore free to ignore them at the time of war." ~James Roos, The Miami Herald, USA What does that mean? I think we usually execute those people as war criminals.

The beautiful concert hall.

These are the little shoes I practiced wearing all day. Thank you Rebecca!