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Not all is fair in love and virtuosity...

Identical twin brothers... born only moments apart yet completely unalike in temperament, in talents, and in passions as two complete strangers.  Despite their opposite temperaments, Michael and Allen are bonded deeply together against all forces especially their mother Lilliam Diehl, one of the greatest opera divas of the 20th century.  Her iron will and command over her children's destinies seems unshakable but when an unspeakable secret is revealed, their familial bond is put to the ultimate test in this lavish period romance spanning five decades.  From horse-drawn carriages to the Opera LaScala to cocktails at the Stonewall Inn on a fateful night in June, this epic tale of family, music and grand passions will sweep you away.

A memory that I had carefully filed away for just the right moment comes instantly back to me now like an obedient dog.   I was just about 13 years old and Derrick was coaching me through a particularly wicked passage of Rachmaninoff…

 

“No, no Patrick, your phrase is still completely off. You’re just not feeling. You’re still trying to play it…”

 

We have been working on this Concerto for Piano and Cello for weeks on end and I still stumble on this particularly difficult passage every time…

 

He sets his cello aside, puts down his bow and takes a seat next to me at the piano while gently scolding me. “This is just not something that can be read off the page and played with technical precision Patrick.  This is Rachmaninoff!   You’re not just here to communicate technique.  You must also remember what the composer was trying to convey in this passage as you are playing it.  It’s the step beyond technique and you’re just not applying it here.   Try again.”

 

Dietrich’s presence next to me is making me unusually nervous and I can’t understand why.  For some reason that I cannot verbalize, my desire to truly impress him and earn his respect is far stronger right now than it has ever been before and the harder I try to make the phrase work, the worse the result and I’m just this close to working myself into a fit of frustrated tears…

 

Dietrich gets up, makes me get up also and then turns the piano bench the other direction.   I sit down again and he then sits behind me on the bench and reaches around me placing his fingers on top of mine.  In just a few seconds I can feel a strange heat in my face and neck and realize I’m blushing like a schoolgirl!  Why?   I’m absolutely mortified but relieved that he is behind me and cannot see…

“Concentrate.” He whispers in my ear.

 

We begin the phrase again this time with him as my guide.  The same notes, the same tempo, the same dynamics are brought forth but this time the result is completely different.  It sounds exactly the way it should…

We’ve stopped playing but his position does not change and his hands remain on top of mine.

 

“I think you understand now…”

 

I realize now that Derrick is at this very moment again placing a fork in the road for me to choose from.   I can ignore the subtle signal and pretend that his touch is nothing more than clinical concern leaving this incident to be forgotten forever, or I can recognize what is truly happening here and allow him to lead me further.  The choice is very delicately being left up to me…

 

I suddenly come back to him, place my uninjured hand on top of his and directly meet his gaze.

 

“I would do that and so much more for you Derrick.  You must certainly know that by now.”

 

“I thought so Patrick.  I just wasn’t sure.”

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