Sara Davis Buechner’s piano recital at our very own Baruch College was a unique opportunity to witness an on honest individual, comfortable in her own skin, putting her talent on display for the world to see. Before I get too in depth about the woman of the hour, I will set the atmosphere. This was my first time at Baruch Performing Arts Center was pleasant. The seats were staggered, making it easy to see regardless of where you sat and were comfortable. The atmosphere was more intimate than what I had been exposed to in the past.
Piano recitals were for me either a huge event at Carnegie Hall where people peered through their binoculars to catch a glimpse of the lone pianist’s hands. Others would simply give up trying to see and close their eyes, taking in the music. More often, my own piano teacher would have her annual piano recital. The room would be filled with nervous parents waiting for their little prodigy’s turn to perform. Some especially young children would play complex pieces seeming before they could form a coherent sentence. The air would be filled with chattering. My favorite location for such a concert was a local Gothic church some years ago. The echo, stain glass windows, organ, and acoustics gave the grand piano an unrivaled sound.
Sara Davis Buechner was not merely a talented pianist, enough to satisfy the audience at a piano recital, she made us laugh. As a worldly traveler, with international respect, and a dual citizen her stories dripped with depth. Whether is was about her host mother in Japan many years ago or her train ride over that same day, Sara was knowledgeable and eager for us to be too. Politics? She had a strong opinion and was not afraid to express it. Maybe a more sensitive area for a professional musician, but the life of a composer? She had her own input. Sara did much more than play in an instrument beautifully, she let her personality shine as well. A stand up comedy special combined with some expert storytelling kept held my attention. I was grateful to the artist for pre facing each composer that she played with some background information to make the whole thing more interactive. I felt as though I understood what was going on with changes in mood. Sara Davis Buechner would even shit the grand piano at times, but the tips of her fingers barely grazed the keys. It is a mistake to think of a pianist as playing with their hands. A pianist plays with their posture, their back, their eyes, their feet. Every part of the body must be up to the task, not unlike the individual strings of a finely tuned instrument.
I did not know what I was coming in for that evening. Learning later that it was for more than one thing. To bond with friends, to see a woman be herself, to see that talented woman play the piano with the entirety of her soul, to hear some stories, and to laugh. This was no Carnegie Hall or crowded piano recital in someone’s Brooklyn living room. No, this was better.
