It was the fatal year 1976 . Just forty years. ( I remember the dog’s vomit yellow, certainly, of my Monkstown, Dublin, carpet ) Ahead lay years of terror.
My fingers bled . That page one ( solo piano ) , my PIANO TRIO gestated, me young. That work became for me technically AND HYPOTHUMOTICALLY
my breakthrough.
Just forty years on. This morning before ( cold-red ) Hamburg dawn , I completed this SECOND PIANO TRIO ( this time with a viola. Not violin. – bound to be quite different.) . Four not long movements . All Barred. Yerra, I suppose, “Charakterstuecke ” . – Not that this demystifies anything written, . The wonder. Strong structures. Strong aura. Strong architecture.
Brass, decay won’t nibble on my fresh manuscript. Last ? Yes.