The founder of Heróis do Mar and musician for Madredeus presents his new album Vitral Submerso in solo piano.
This is the story of a return to origins. It is also the title of a concert for solo piano, as well as of an album that should be released by the end of this year, 2023. When I was 5 years old, I accompanied my father to an antique auction where there was an old upright piano Made in France with a wooden frame. I opened the lid and started playing the “Pombainhas da Catrina” with the finger of my right hand. My father murmured: “The kid has talent. I have to get him to study music.” And he bought the piano.
At the age of 9, I joined the Conservatório da Rua dos Caetanos and that’s how I started my pianistic adventure. However, the harsh teaching methods at the time did not win me over and it was painful to have to study daily on a piano that did not even tune. At the age of 16, I came into contact with Symphonic Rock and started to fall in love with electric keyboards. I managed to buy a Yamaha organ with two keyboards and a pedalboard and joined a group that played at high school gatherings. It was the beginning of the 70s. From then on, I surrendered to the synthesizers that were starting to come out at that time and I never cared about the piano again… until March 30, 2018, when the grand room arrived at my studio.
Carried by four men, the heavy piece of furniture enters the room that was designed for him 11 years ago and which, since then, has been waiting for him. Legless, and very heavy, he enters through the widest door. I myself helped put foam on the floor so that it wouldn’t scratch the parquet. Moved, I welcome him with a silent look, trying to hide my excitement, aware that these men make this their lives and are just focused on finishing another transport, like so many others. While one of them screws in the three legs, I decide where to place them in the room. We straighten it out and there it is: the Grotrian-Steinweg tail quarter manufactured in 1920 is standing. Black and, for the time being silent, it is already clear that the room is his.
After a little small talk, the men say goodbye and disappear toward the van. I close the door. The afternoon is cold and rainy and, inside, I admire the new landscape: a piano in the middle of the shale and stone hall. The dream comes true. The cats approach to inspect the new object and the smells that come from it. They carefully circle the huge figure until the Persian jumps onto the top and stays there, enjoying the unprecedented observation point. A few hairs are scattered across the shiny surface and I realize that, from now on, I am the owner of an object that needs to be dusted regularly.
From that day on, in addition to cleaning him, I began to compose for him. The result of this solitary adventure is in the sound of these pieces, which wander in a kind of assumed neoclassicism, the result of varied feelings and already quite long musical life.
Carlos Maria Trindade
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