Recently rediscovered Grieg and the somber, Norwegian mystique of his compositions.  Research lead me from one work to another, and so it happens that my current obsessions are all interconnected by Grieg and Gieseking (a German pianist with a craft for incredibly strident yet sensual musical expression, notably on works by Debussy, Ravel, and the like):

Solveig's Song (from Peer Gynt) - Edvard Grieg
(Performed by New Symphony Orchestra)

Sonatine III. Animé -  Maurice Ravel
(Performed by Walter Gieseking)

Ballade in G minor, Op. 24 - Edvard Grieg
(Performed by Leif Ove Andsnes) 

... And forget Pitbull, Kesha and all the other unoriginal faces of pop culture that pump out nothing but remixed scrap. Now, THIS is a remix - musical homage, at its finest:

Ständchen - Richard Strauss (arr. Walter Gieseking)
(Performed by Leif Ove Andsnes) 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAtgJSvsd2c

And to top off the pian-inception.. only if Nobuyuki Tsujii executed his own interpretation, by Strauss, by Gieseking, by Andsnes.  I might also be saying that simply because Tsujii's original composition reminds me of the above Ständchen.  Almost an uncanny semblance.  (side note: this reminds me... my favorite "Ständchen" since back in early college is by Schubert - but that's a whole other story...)

The man who unboiled an egg

... an old article, but quite fascinating.  Been doing Hervé's "sprinkling salt around the yolk" on fried eggs for a while now, but once I find a good chunk of time, I want to try some of his other eats-periments.  Probably getting my hands on his book too.

You always hurt the one you love,

The one you shouldn't hurt at all.

You always take the sweetest rose..

And crush it till the petals fall.

You always break the kindest heart

With a hasty word you can't recall.

So if I broke your heart last night..

It's because I love you most of all.

Lately, I've developed a bent for short, bright major chord pieces.  It might have to do with the cold weather and my mind trying to counter the long, solemn winter season.  My favorite picks, of course, from Rachmaninoff and Chopin.  I "perceive" all pieces very differently.  In terms of audio perception, Nobuyuki Tsujii's resonates with my own perception of sound.  In an interview, he explains that he hears a "G" ("so") when salt-water eel tempura is being fried.  My hearing is not as sensitive to narrow down on a particular note, but very often I perceive an image in my mind (mostly colors and shapes, if not scenes) when I listen to piano music.  Kind of like one of those media player rainbow auroras that change patterns when music is being played (you have to be a certain age to know what I'm talking about, it's a bit old).  Below are my top three major pieces:

Prelude in B Flat Major, Op. 23, No. 2 - Sergei Rachmaninoff
(performed by Vladimir Ashkenazy)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiYT0Iu9Hnw
- This one is a pure, bright lemon yellow.  I can't describe a form, but it fills up space boldly and evenly.  Not too heavy, but like plastic containers or a shovel toy.  Also some shiny, sterling silvery grey, like a row of xylophones.  The piece brings out the quintessential assertiveness of Ashkenazy's piano.

Grande valse brillante in E flat Major - Frédéric Chopin
(performed by Arthur Rubinstein)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=laSh3D_77ZM
- The "color" for this is harder to describe, but it's pops of speckles of "pink" and other playful shades that embody a hint of softness.  Like a playful grandfather telling a story from memory lane.  Also, the way the speckles form: a 4 inch stiletto hitting a flat, concrete side walk, and the resulting color being "stamped on" to the surface, clean without smudging.  The focus is forward, so that the trailing speckles are still in frame but go out when out of frame.  There is also some oak-y, grayish-brown (close to taupe), not speckles - but a "perception" I associate with Arthur Rubinstein's piano.  

Étude Op. 10, No. 1 in C Major - Frédéric Chopin 
(performed by Nobuyuki Tsujii)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDtT5sSu5VQ
- This is actually an exercise piece (hence, the arpeggios), but also one of the more difficult pieces to execute by Chopin.  I always get overwhelmed with emotion when I listen to this particular track - it's what Tsujii performed at the Van Cliburn competition.  Every note is gushing with the toil and desire that had built up in his 21 years, to the point of this glorious moment for Tsujii.  I perceive the depth of a person's origin and Tsujii birthing the notes, every single one reborn with a meaning beyond perception.  Clean and complex.

It's very hard to explain these perceptions without sounding like I'm heavily abusing substances.  Words really don't do justice here, but it's a start. 

For every favorite classical piece, I have a "vision" that flows through my mind.  Often times, similar visions all tie in with one artist.  For example, in terms of pianists: Rubinstein = playful, Tsujii = pure, Rachmaninoff = somber and pained, etc.  I thought it would be interesting to have this down in "writing."

Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 2, Larghetto (Performed by Krystian Zimerman)

Frederic Chopin composed this piece when he was about my age.  The title given may be "No. 2," but in reality, this was his first Piano Concerto (that ended up being published second).  "Larghetto" is a bursting concoction of young Chopin's passion and emotional fragility - he is said to have written this for a lady whom he dreamt of for six months, but never spoke to.  

The scene painted in my mind is daybreak - mountains of high altitude shadowed periwinkle, deep in fog.  Trickles of morning light brush the grand vista, like longing hands across a maiden's soft cheeks.  A slow current pushes the fog to reveal one faded blue valley and hide another.  The mountains are only half awake, and the sun beams down ever so gently, though the skies already hold a magnificent streak of lavender clouds.  

Zimerman's every note is deeply emotive.  The boyish - yet nowhere fledgling - composition by Chopin emanates romantic energy and comes to life through Zimerman's fingertips.  What makes this true to Chopin's intentions is that it remains suspended a dream - an aria secretly sung in dedication to what has not yet been achieved in reality.  Zimerman's piano is rich and milky, like kneaded dough or a warm spring flowing against one's palms.  His piano is perfect for largos and larghettos demanding dextrous respect for each and every sound and silence.  It's as if time slows down, and his piano sinks into the sinews your heart valves, of where love is felt.  

Can you tell I'm obsessed?