The world of violins and flutes, of horns and cellos, of fugues, scherzos and gavottes, obeyed laws which were so clear that all music seemed to speak of God. My body was not listening, it was praying. My spirit no longer had bounds, and if tears came to my eyes, I did not feel them running down because they were outside me. I wept with gratitude every time the orchestra began to sing. A world of sounds for a blind man, what sudden grace! The inner world made concrete.
In the concert hall, each motionless listener is part of the performance. The concentration of the player charges the electric tension in the auditorium and returns to the playLIer magnified. I like the fact that "LISTEN" is an anagram of "SILENT". Silence is not something that is there before the music begins and after it stops. It is the essence of the music itself, the vital ingredient that makes it possible for the music to exist at all. It's wonderful when the audience is part of this productive silence.
~ Alfred Brendel in "The New Yorker" 4/1/96 thanks to B. Stockard
