An Artist Cloaked in Self-Made Mystery

Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli was one of the most evocative and brilliant pianists of the twentieth century. His command of the keyboard was beyond description. The control over each note seemed to emerge as a complete cosmos unto itself. The quality of sound fanning out of the piano was to me the same as watching the properties of quicksilver. His interpretations, though at times controversial, were engrossing in their power of projection.
Another equally compelling aspect of this man was, shall we say, his eccentricities.
There was no artist I know who was harder on himself (and inevitably upon his audiences at times) than Michelangeli.
Many times an audience, waiting for him to perform, would find itself leaving the hall without having seen or heard him - he simply would not appear.
The reasons for such a debacle were many; to cite a few, if the piano had somehow been affected by weather (in his consciousness), or if the weather, for whatever reason affected his state of being, or if he awakened on the day of a recital or concert not feeling exactly the way he needed to feel in order to perform to his expectation of the moment, he would simply not appear.
I was never part of any audience involved in a Michelangeli Moment, and am thankful for not having been. I am grateful for being able to pull out a CD or video of this great musician, knowing that he will show up each and every time.