Amidst the final push of the semester, I’ve been revisiting some pieces that gave me comfort and made me fall in love with music. This little excerpt comes from the Franck Violin Sonata. I’ve played this piece with a variety of instrumentalists (including flute and cello) and over the years have become very familiar with it. Comfort was hard to find in this piece as the chords so big and stretched out, they are impossible to play and the voicing is very subtle and hard. I think I find comfort in this hyper romantic piece because my fingers have a memory of their own, the push and pull have a familiarity that this music lends itself to.
The opening of the first movement builds to this solo piano part and the grandness dissipates to a sweet melancholy sigh. There’s a tenderness and mellowness to the dulcet tones that brings to mind an empty room of billowing curtains with a once warm bed.