The House of Silence by Blanca Busquets

Author:Blanca Busquets
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regan Arts.

The

Concert

Mark

The hall is filled with people. When I made my entrance, the orchestra stood up and everyone applauded. I turn and look at the audience and am completely blinded because all the spotlights are on me. I have butterflies in my stomach, I always do before a concert, the adrenaline pumps up and down and ends up settling where it needs to settle to create that mix of excitement and fear. Later, we replace that fear with satisfaction; that must be what we are all looking for when we break out of our usual routine, when we do things that make us nervous, that shake us up, and that we do despite all that. That must be it.

I didn’t think to ask if there was a microphone. I clear my throat and start to speak loudly, projecting so that everyone can hear me. Soon there is absolute silence.

“Good evening. As you all know, my father died ten years ago, on his way to Vienna, after conducting a concert identical to the one we will perform tonight, here in Berlin. My father was from East Germany, but he fled and settled in Barcelona. He was already a well-known conductor and the Catalans offered him political asylum, a home, and the working conditions he needed. But he always wanted to come back here, and he was able to with a concert at the Staatsoper, where he had played and conducted in more difficult times. Now the theater is temporarily closed, which is why we are here, at the Schiller—”

I took in a large breath before continuing:

“This concert, as you’ve seen on the program, is a selection of baroque music that includes some of Monteverdi’s canzonettas, some arias by Purcell and Handel, and a few short pieces by different composers in the first part. The second is devoted entirely to Bach, and it ends with the Concerto for Two Violins, a piece that meant so much to my father, and which we have chosen to play here with the same violinists he chose for the Berlin concert ten years ago. Thank you so much for your support.”

They applaud again and then there is silence, that silence before the start of a concert, that holding your breath before launching an attack, a musical attack. I had been wondering if I should talk to the audience about myself and my experiences in East Berlin, but in the end I decided not to. It’s also exciting for me to come here, even though the renovations mean we are in the West at the Schiller instead of in the East at the Staatsoper, the Staatsoper where I had attended so many concerts and where I had also played the cello with the orchestra. But if I explain that, they won’t understand why my father was in Barcelona and I wasn’t, and then it all gets too complicated, and I don’t want to make him look bad; after all, he didn’t even know I existed.

I hope he didn’t

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