Virginal Bliss. Part 1.

The curiousness of a short lucid dream startled me awake. What secret corner of my psyche shot out this fully developed cinematic fiction? Weeks later the question remains. Where did these ideas and imagery come from, ideas and images with no relation to anything I have personally experienced, or seen in films, or read in any book? The cinematic clarity was the most startling aspect, even more than cinema, it seemed I was a voyeur with high-resolution eyes and artistic camera angles, watching a tender reality unfold between a man and a woman. If the scene was played by an actor and actress, they were the most talented performers I have ever seen.

I will describe as best I can the cinematic details: A young man, dressed in a dark green sweater, new blue jeans and shiny brown shoes knocks on the door of a house or large apartment. The view is close, so the larger details are unclear. He is received by a casually, but elegantly dressed Asian woman, slightly older than himself, slightly shorter. By her demeanor we assume she is more emotionally mature, more worldly than the young man. Her smile is pleasant, in fact, beautiful, but also distant, slightly distracted. We guess she has been interrupted from something more serious than any young man. She waves a slender hand, with red nails to usher him in.

The man has invented some pretext for being there. They had met previously at a party or a music concert. At this point there is no audio feed. I hear no dialogue. I know past details, as though I was already familiar with small portions of their back-story. As if I was acquainted with this man and woman in some way. Perhaps I was also at the party or concert. She gestures for him to sit on a small sofa, a beige love-seat, the left side of the back sloping down with no arm-rest. The woman sits across the room in an elaborate, brocaded oriental chair. We expect her to lift an opium pipe or a long, delicately carved, ivory cigarette holder. This is the exotic mystery she exudes.

Regardless of her stylized look, her demeanor is warm and enthusiastic. They discuss the shared event, the concert or the party, as the man glances around the room. The interior of her home is large and colorful, reminiscent of 1950s high fashion, tastefully carved wooden furniture, paintings with bright splashes of yellow, orange and red. To the man's left sits a keyboard instrument, looking similar to a harpsichord, but the body is deeper and larger. A length of amber and blue silken cloth drapes over the instrument touching the dark hardwood floor. As their silent conversation appears to dwindle, I suddenly have audio. I hear the young man ask: “Please, may I play your instrument?”

“Certainly,” she replies. “Be my guest. I will get us something to drink.” She rises slowly, gracefully and moves to an adjacent room. She is no longer in view as he hears a refrigerator open, with the sound of gathering ice cubes. He thinks he smells lemons, though he hears no blender.

Turning his attention to the keyboard, he removes the heavy embroidered cloth, tossing it to a side chair, and lifts the cabinet lid, much like the lid of a grand piano. He supports the lid with an carved, wooden arm pivoting up within. Inside the mahogany cabinet is an instrument he has never seen before.

Though the cabinet has the elegant appearance of a Baroque period keyboard, with chubby naked cherubim fluttering tiny white wings, nothing within is familiar. There are two short rows of nine wide ivory keys. Each key twice the width of a standard piano key. Between and around these keys, various carved wooden and ebony knobs stick up from the body of the instrument, as well as antique iron and brass levers. Where the strings would be on a piano or harpsichord this instrument reveals nothing. Whatever mechanisms reside within the cabinet are obscured by ornate, intricately carved wooden lattice-work, much like the sound-hole of Renaissance lutes or Arabic ouds.

Pressing a few keys he hears crisp, plucked sounds, perhaps a combination of mandolin and an early harpsichord. Playfully he twists one of the ebony knobs, then plays a few more notes. Now the sound is that of a baroque violin, or mid-sized viola da gamba. He flips a brass lever, and the sound becomes an antique oboe, much like a Hungarian tárogató. Within a few minutes of improvisation, the young man is able to play a two-octave musical scale, beginning with a harpsichord sound, transitioning into the gamba and tárogató. He notices the third note of the scale is slightly out-of-tune, and remembers this was normal in musical scales of 16th and 17th century Europe. However unusual the mechanical design, the look and sound of the instrument leads him to believe the instrument was made in Europe. Wear on the keys and knobs indicates extensive use, though he has never heard of such an instrument being performed.

He is smiling, almost laughing with joy as he continues to experiment and improvise. As a music historian and as a composer, this instrument is a revelation, a 17th century equivalent to a Korg keyboard synthesizer, able to play a wide variety of instrumental sounds from a single keyboard. Unlike any synthesizer, the sounds coming from the sound-box of this instrument are not electronic or digital samples. The sounds are acoustic, as if a full size gamba, harpsichord, tárogató, lute and Baroque trumpet reside within. There were two levers which allow him to play harmony to accompany the melody he plays on the wide ivory keys. At one point he plays Row, Row, Row Your Boat, with the 1st melody on trumpet, joined by the 2nd melody on harpsichord, with harmony chords strumming on the lute, and a bass line 3rd melody on the gamba.

His concentration was so intense, the young man does not notice the woman has returned and is now seated close to him. A silver tray rests on a low table holding two pewter goblets of lemonade, as well as a etched-crystal pitcher, half-full of lemonade and ice. He turns to her, exclaiming, “This is remarkable! Where did you find such a thing? Truly, amazing!”

Holding a cup of lemonade toward him, the woman replies, “I bought it from the estate of the artist, Ms. Tuan, who recently passed away. She was a brilliant performer, giving many concerts on the instrument. The instrument is called, The Virginal Bliss.

The design unique, based on clavichords and virginals as performed in Vienna in the late 1500s and early 1600s. There are apparently no other surviving instruments of the kind. Ms. Tuan told me she bought the instrument in Vienna in 1974. It has a date, 1742, inscribed on one of the metal levers. I do have a book about Ms. Tuan, a mostly pictorial history of her concert performances.”

[ Part 2 - a separate page ]