Another great pianist to pay attention to: Julius Drake. A satisfying evening of Brahms songs sung by Ian Bostridge would not have been possible without this brilliant piano playing.

Brilliant is an interesting word to have used because I do not mean it the way it is usually applied to piano playing. This playing was sensitive to every minuscule vibration, every transition between songs, every tiny nuance of timing. Brilliant in that it illuminated the invisible.

Listening has two aspects: Paying attention is the most obvious one. But the other is equally important: expressing yourself with trust that you will be listened to.

Perhaps this best expresses why I became a musician--why it matters so much to me to pursue this way of life.

What I find truly magical is that every once in a while I feel as if I am hearing sounds that are still alive after hundreds of years. These are like memories that transcend the time frame of ordinary existence.

A friend was wondering aloud this morning about why we no longer have certain keys that are taboo. For centuries people were aware that certain sounds evoked strong feelings--some good, some not so good.

When pitch became neutralized and we were no longer supposed to notice the difference two things happened: First, our subconscious responses to tone got locked inside of us to such an extent that we have no idea they are there (though they nevertheless have physiological and sometimes psychological effect). Second, conductors and other conspicuous performers had to start pursuing interpretation because sounds had lost their inherent weight.

It has been utterly fascinating to ponder the juxtaposition of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and Pauline Oliveros.

I see no reason why people cannot take in all kinds of acoustical combinations. Some effort may be required and some rules may have to be observed. For example: a cappella singing is incompatible with equal temperament. That does not mean that all singing has to be a cappella nor does it mean that the piano is incompatible with temperaments that are not exactly equal.

Let me explain: If the ear of the pianist is open to the proposition that overtones of unlike instruments will not match no matter what, the fine arts of pedalling and touch can enable music of the most unlikely combinations with piano.

I know it's possible. I've done it, sometimes over the objection of colleagues. The most memorable occasion was a duo with piano and guitar which I performed with an extremely fussy guitarist, Massimo Felice. If that could work I dare say anything can be made to work.

What is required is an open, honest ear.

My first reaction at the beginning of a festive concert honoring Pauline Oliveros was delight at her inclusion of real life sounds in the definition of music. I couldn't agree more.

Then confusion began with an early electronic piece played with the projection of a photo of the antique gizmo she had used to make the tape. Not all the music on the concert was confusing: much of it was simply beautiful--well composed, beautifully played, sung and in one case danced to. What confuses me is that nobody laughs despite the obvious humor of much of her electronic music.

People are no less sanctimonious about the avant-garde than about 18th century music. Same disease; new wallpaper.

The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment performed last night two Beethoven symphonies, Nos. 2 and 3, with period instruments. It was incredible to hear tones so infused with color just by virtue of the acoustics of the instruments. The vulnerability of every instrumental voice went from the extreme wit of the Second Symphony to the naked sadness of the Funeral March in the Third without histrionics, without heavy-handed "interpretation." I felt I was hearing these works for the first time--certainly I felt as if I understood them for the first time.

I don't think I'll ever again go hear these works played with modern instruments.

To give a concrete example of the difference: The French horns are natural horns that produce natural overtones of their fundamental; all other tones require manipulation that give a distinct edge to the sound. The chromatic harmonies that sound so lush in modern orchestras sound truly other-worldly. The strings take their cues from these colorful tone events and the dialogue between winds and strings is off and running.

Go hear them if you can.

You might wonder why I care so much about dumbing down and regimentation. If you live with a young child you learn what intensity is. Nobody smells with greater acuity than a young child: walking in the door they can tell whether there are onions in the soup. The same acuity applies to sight and to hearing.

Methods based on dumbing down and regimentation so infuriated me as a child that I told my mother it was a waste of money to continue lessons with the offending teacher. Not every child has the advantage of being taken seriously. Not every child is aware of an alternative.

The great pianist Busoni said that technical exercises should be doled out as carefully as toxic medicines. Every hand is a unique organ of action and response. They may all have the same number of fingers but there the resemblance definitely stops. I devote a lot of energy to taking each child seriously, which means I assume that each needs to possess his or her own hands to express a musical self waiting to be discovered and developed. Just because pianos share certain attributes does not mean they should be taught as instruments of regimentation.