Yawn. Morning Twitter. In between videos of the crack through the middle of Grindavik (and speculations that this is somehow the fault of the Deep State) and laments by writers that nobody has read their latest opus on Kindle comes another offer of a virtual talk. I enjoyed the last one I attended (virtually), so I check it out. There's also another great poem by Brian Bilston. I send him a thank-you tweet. Just another morning while I look for inspiration.

Ah, there it is.

Sir Patrick Stewart in an interview about playing a pianist in the movie Coda. It seems he watched films of concert pianists in order to get the movements right. He even taught himself to play a short passage by Mozart, just to get the feel of it right. Curious, I looked up the trailer and a few clips. I was pleasantly surprised at how well the director had spliced the actor's mimicry together with actual playing: watching actors pretend to play instruments is usually painful, but they did a good job.

Yes, yes, I know. Actors pretend to do all sorts of things: fly airplanes, repair their ailing spaceships, fight monsters. I've done a bit of play-acting myself, so I know how to fake things. But people pretend-playing instruments tend to look like parodies, which is why musicians often wince at the movies.

Almost in the same moment, I saw Rudi Geerts' post about Esther Bejárano. Now, that was faking it with a purpose.

She was Esther Löwy then, from Saarlouis. Still a teenager. She'd tried to get to Palestine but ended up in a labour camp. Then she was sent to Auschwitz. She had a chance at survival: join the Women's Orchestra. The Orchestra had to play in front of the camp gates. Her problem: she played piano.

When I read that, I felt a pang of empathy. Pianos are not portable instruments. In fact, I've heard Jon Batiste say that the reason he took up the melodica was so that he could play with his friends from Julliard on the subway. But in the 1940s? No melodicas. What they did have was an accordion. Sure, Esther said, I'll play that.

She'd never played one before. She taught herself. In Auschwitz.

Esther kept playing accordion. After, in Israel. Later, back in Germany. In the 1980s, she formed a group called Coincidence. They sang songs from the ghetto and antifascist songs. They educated people. She lived to be 96.

I've always told people that one of the most important questions in the Old Testament stories is the one God most frequently asks. Which is, 'What is in your hand?'

You see, what you've got in your hand is the tool you need. You just don't know it yet.

Shamgar had an ox goad,

David had a sling,

Dorcas had a needle,

Rahab had a string. . .

– old Sunday School song

What tool do you have? What's in your hand? A wrench, because you can fix broken things? A book, because you can teach? A computer keyboard? A camera? A train ticket to wherever you're needed next?

For who hath despised the day of small things?

– Zechariah 4:10

Don't fret at what looks like a small contribution. It may be bigger than you think. And if you think you can't do it? Fake it until you can.

Dmitri Gheorgheni

27.11.23 Front Page

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