The Pianoplayer: A lesbian love story

by Rosalie Sommer

  Adolé realized that further resistance was futile. Roswitha had prepared herself well and dispelled each of her objections with a lightness that surprised her even after all these years. She sighed.

  Unfortunately she couldn't counter with a better idea. She was just dreading having to spend so much time in the studio with this unknown woman. Her bad reputation preceded her.

  ...this could be fun.

  3.

  They all met for the first time together in a public hotel lobby. The hotel was not the kind of hotel Adolé was used to and as she had expected for a first meeting with the icon of classical piano music. All in all, the house made a somewhat rocked impression or as they say nowadays: vintage! - clearly it had its best years already behind it. Nevertheless it radiated a certain charm and the glamour of days gone by.

  Quiet, unobtrusive jazz music sounded from discreetly placed loudspeakers as they penetrated further and further into the large and only moderately frequented room. Subdued light illuminated selected corners, green plants provided some cozy flair. Their steps were muted by thick hotel carpets. While Adolé still let her gaze wander in search of something, Roswitha walked purposefully towards a somewhat screened-off seating area at the back of the room.

  Michelle Mimieux had tamed her long brown curly hair by tucking it under a rather masculine hat, her gaze being obscured by unusually large and dark sunglasses. She had wrapped herself in a leather jacket, unexpectedly rocky for a classical pianist, and had made herself comfortable in one of the comfortable large leather armchairs of this secluded sitting area. Her hands held her latte macchiato tightly wrapped around it for warmth. Her gaze was focused on her hands. It was still early in the day. Outside, the cool February wind was blowing and whirling as hard as it could. She didn't like the cold season and seemed sleepy accordingly. So the morning already seemed to be not her time.

  While Adolé, also public because of her baseball cap and also sunburnt, was hard to recognize, still anxious to appear reasonably friendly, Michelle did not even look up when she arrived.

  "Oh, I'm so happy that this actually worked out," Roswitha Michelle's manager said to Roswitha Michelle as they hugged each other warmly. "Well, at least they're having fun," thought Adolé, while she waited for her turn to greet them. Shortly afterwards, Michelle's manager reached out her hand in a friendly manner. "Ella. Pleased to meet you."

  Adolé grabbed the ball boldly and squeezed Ella's hand properly. There was nothing she hated more than when you meet someone for the first time and that first impression was dominated by such a lukewarm, meaningless, baggy handshake. She preferred it to be hearty and clear. And so was her first impression of Ella, who she liked quite a bit, but whom she had actually imagined to be quite different. This woman knew what she wanted and could get her hands dirty. "That's nice!" thought Adolé.

  While Roswitha was about twenty years older than herself and thus about in her early sixties, there was obviously no age difference between Michelle and Ella. Both could only be in their late thirties at most. But ultimately, for Adolé, age was just a number. The personality of the individual interested her more. So she liked Roswitha's motherly care as much as she sometimes hated it when she made every decision for her in advance, as if she was just pre-school age. All in all, they were a good team, who pursued a common goal and have been very successful so far. They owe this not only to Roswitha's excellent network but also to her inexhaustible commitment and wealth of experience and sometimes even to her stubbornness. But the latter was a different matter again.

  "Me too!" Adolé replied truthfully and smiled reservedly. Although she still found the collaboration with a classical pianist somehow unexpected and strange, at least she had nothing against the meeting. In fact, Roswitha had by now worked on her in such a way and almost convinced her that collaborating with such a great world star of a completely different musical genre no longer seemed so far-fetched.

  She just didn't quite see the necessity. For her, the musical creative process in a studio had something very intimate about it, which she didn't want to share with a complete stranger. The creation of a new song was in a way like the birth of a child, which is young and innocent at first, then grows up, takes shape, is sometimes bulky and rebellious, and for whom you feel love after all - and which you finally release into the world to make your own experiences.

  Adolé liked this view. She had an intimate relationship to all her songs, which often continued to develop after the release, led her own life and, especially during various live performances, could take on completely different developments than originally planned in the studio. This process had grown dear to her heart and was her very own. She didn't know yet if she was ready to let someone else take part in it. Especially someone she didn't like at first sight at all.

  After Ella greeted her, she turned around with a sweeping arm movement and pointed at Michelle. "May I present: Michelle Mimieux," she whispered in a subdued voice so as not to draw unnecessary attention to the small cluster of people in the corner and nodded in Michelle's direction. Adolé had expected that at least they would rise from their soft upholstery and give her a hand, as was the custom among civilized people.

  But far from it. Michelle only managed a short look up and a short "hello" before she turned back to her coffee without any emotion. Adolé, surprised by so much rudeness, froze for a moment and then pulled back her friendly but unnoticed hand embarrassed.

  Annoyed and helpless, she looked at Roswitha, who together with Ella was trying to save what could be saved. "Michelle is happy too," Ella assured her in vain. "She is just a little tired from the concert series that ended last week. Her German is a little rusty too. It is surely best if the three of us discuss everything necessary and I pass it on to Michelle afterwards."

  Roswitha nodded while Adolé was still struggling for her frame. She didn't know when she was last ever treated so uncharmingly, no, even rudely! and how she should deal with it. Never before had another person so duped and offended her. She was no longer so sure whether it was right to let Roswitha talk her way into this risky project, no matter how secret it was now and how great it would be for her career if it succeeded.

  The rest of the evening she followed the negotiations between Roswitha and Ella just as silently as Michelle. From time to time she glanced back and forth between the one and the other, her hot drink and the impudent pianist. Secretly she shook her head again and again without understanding how such a meeting could have come about in the first place.

  After one of the longest hours of their lives so far, the managers had negotiated the conditions under which the project would take place. It was usually the case that both actors contributed very little to this decision-making process. In the end, they were only present at the meeting because they were supposed to get to know each other and sniff each other out, but this went thoroughly wrong.

  The fact that the start of the project was already scheduled for the next month left Adolé desperate.

  4.

  The weeks leading up to the start of the project flew by. In the meantime, spring was tenderly visible. Adolé tried everything to convince Roswitha to leave this unloved project after all, but after the contracts had been signed at some point, all efforts had become pointless. She dreaded having to meet Michelle in the studio, although they would not even be alone there. Luckily, there was little reason to be prepared for embarrassing silence or small talk. And what they had to talk about would be limited to the professional topics they both knew quite well. Melodies, harmonies, notes, texts, rhythms.

  Anyway, Adolé had decided to limit her necessary conversations to the bare essentials. They were forced by contract to participate in at least twelve different pieces of music, which they both had to come up with in collaboration with the studio band, and if things went well, they would gladly do so up to fifteen. But she really didn't expect that. Nobody could tell her to be happy or even enthusiastic about it. So Adolé had set herself the goal of
fulfilling her part of the deal, to be imaginative and creative, but not to provide more than the twelve titles she had asked for. At least she was a professional. Let the others see how they get along!

  Although Adolé tried hard to let the time pass as slowly as possible until the project started in the studio, in which she perceived everything very consciously, often looked at the clock and hardly exposed herself to stress, there was no escape at some point - she had to go to the rented studio in Hamburg.

  So she had no choice but to get moving in time and fly to Hamburg. As usual, the driver picked her up at the hotel at the agreed time and took her to the recording studio just outside the city.

  She already knew the studio from previous recordings. It had been Roswitha and her suggestion to book it again for this project, because it allowed for creative work as well as the approach to difficult passages in the form of musical group work or going through different sections of the same piece separately. In total, it offered enough space for at least three independent creative working groups, but on the other hand it was so small and cosy that even intimate pieces of music, which required very little frills and had to be performed very quietly, sounded excellent and could be worked out in a very personal way. In other words: the perfect environment to balance the otherwise tense situation between the two main actors at least a little bit.

  When Adolé entered the building she knew well through the back entrance, the owner of the studio and now a close friend immediately rushed at her. "Oh child, it's so good to have you back with us. We are all looking forward to working with you. The others are already upstairs." He pressed her warmly to himself and gave her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy too", Adolé sighed, which was true. She liked Manfred, his fatherly attitude and his unusual recording studio. Some special creations had already been made here. And he had a not inconsiderable share in that.

  Many a time, when they found themselves in a musical impasse, he performed the trick of bringing them back on the right path of tonality and creativity with light-footed and unusual ideas. He was able to do this in his very own way. Sometimes he had a personal one-to-one conversation with her, sometimes he celebrated the night with the band, not without trying out the craziest things. On the following day they could usually conjure up something useful from these spontaneously created recordings. These jam sessions were wonderful. Actually, it didn't really matter how they got their original sound sequences. In any case, she and a lot of people liked them and they were tremendously successful. And that was the main thing.

  "I'll take you up." With these words he gently pushed Adolé towards the stairs to the upper floor where the reception rooms were located. Adolé's tension grew as she knew that there was now finally no escape. It was a mystery to her how, in such a turbulent atmosphere, even the slightest creative work could be possible.

  Without offering any noticeable resistance, she followed Manfred into the upper rooms she knew well. The whole studio radiated a warm comfort. Built as a factory at the turn of the century, the building was bought and renovated ten years ago by some brave rebels and now radiated a mixture of old and new.

  The industrial charm had been preserved, although there was no lack of modern achievements. Twenty-four hours a day, a gastronomic kitchen was available for both catering and self-service, as well as a sauna, both of which were part of this innovative concept. In addition - and this was particularly important for Adolé, who was a self-declared Frahling lover - an original Italian espresso machine, with which she was able to make her beloved caffe latte especially well and which she liked especially well.

  But the absolute highlight was the spectacular open-air pool on the roof. There they had already spent one or two summer nights with parties, which was only one of the advantages of this great studio.

  Of course, all this had its price, but the excellent results justified this extraordinary use of resources every time.

  Manfred led her up the stable iron stairs and opened the door to the studio rooms for her. Adolé closed her eyes, took a deep breath, gathered briefly and sighed inwardly once more. What had she done to deserve this? Then she entered "her" studio with her head held high and confident, not willing to give it up without a fight to some runaway French piano-playing girl.

  To her surprise, nobody who came across as unpleasant was present, especially Michelle Mimieux. Her tension dissolved a little. The studio musicians, whose faces she knew, whom she liked and with whom she worked professionally and without complications, approached her joyfully and greeted her in a very friendly manner. They knew and appreciated each other.

  After an overflowing greeting, in which many experiences were briefly touched upon, the first serious music rehearsal followed after everyone had been provided with sufficient coffee. Adolé got rid of her coat, slipped out of her high heels into comfortable sneakers and joined the musicians to discuss the first arrangements. Although it would have taken a meeting of the two main protagonists to determine the direction the album should take, they started to write some compositions due to the absence of Michelle. In the main they wanted to get familiar with the location again and get into the right mood.

  They had already worked out some quite appealing tone sequences, when the door flew open and finally a sun-brightened Michelle Mimieux made herself comfortable in the studio. But instead of a polite request for apologies for her delay, as Adolé had expected her to be, she built herself up in the middle of the room and looked around reproachfully. "What's going on here? Why didn't you wait for me?!"

  "I see," thought Adolé. "At least her German isn't as bad as we thought..." Then she stood up, walked towards Michelle and again kindly reached out her hand.

  "Hello Mrs. Mimieux, Adolé Varell. We had the pleasure of meeting you the other day. Michelle again ignored the hand offered to her and instead stared unmoved at Adolé. The studio musicians, who did not know Michelle yet, had fallen silent and now looked at each other furtively. Their looks spoke volumes.

  "I expect an explanation!" Michelle, with her slightly French accent, announced without further delay. She didn't even think of getting rid of her coat or making a friendlier face to defuse the situation a bit. Instead, she looked on without batting an eyelid at Adolé, who on the one hand tried not to be intimidated any further and on the other hand tried to calm Michelle down.

  "Well", Adolé put on. "After they didn't appear here in the studio this morning at 11 o'clock as agreed, we thought about how we could still use the time sensibly. So we decided to start with some uncomplicated arrangements in order not to waste any time. After all, studio time is expensive. But you know that yourself." The whole thing sounded much more bitchy than Adolé had actually intended. After all, she originally wanted to mediate.

  Surprisingly, Michelle did not know how to counter the argument "time is money". It therefore had more effect than expected. Moreover, she surely knew exactly when she had an appointment in the studio and how rude and inconsiderate it was to ignore it.

  Michelle Mimieux looked at Adolé scornfully from top to bottom, then raised her right eyebrow snappishly and turned around muttering. Then she dropped her cape over one of the couches and threw her scarf behind her. She kept her sunglasses on. Without giving any further explanation for her considerable delay, she turned to one of the studio musicians in a low voice and asked him a question. He nodded at her and led her to an adjacent studio where a grand piano was located. Shortly afterwards the musician returned alone.

  Adolé shook his head. "What a performance!" she thought stunned and was happy to be able to devote herself to her own studio work again. "She prefers to get into the mood alone in the side studio...", the musician, who had accompanied the pianist to the other studio, started carefully. No one was interested in his explanation.

  After spending some time talking to one of the studio musicians about technique, Adolé could no longer contain her impatience and put off her questions about collaborating with Michelle Mimieux. In fa
ct, she had expected them to join them and agree with her at the outset on the direction in which their work together should develop in order to sound out likes and dislikes regarding different musical styles and develop their own ideas and possibilities. For her this was the most normal process in the world. "Especially when you don't know each other, communication is an important thing," Adolé thought.

  But when nothing of the sort happened, she realized that she could no longer avoid a first personal conversation with the world-famous but unappealing pianist.

  She briefly sorted herself and then went over to the other studio with determination. Since the door was locked, she knocked softly. In no way did she want to complicate the mood further and sabotage any music rehearsals by hammering too loudly on the door. When nothing happened, she carefully pushed the door handle down and peered into the room. She found Michelle there, lost in thought, sitting at the piano without playing. In contrast to her last two performances, she made a decidedly unself-confident and unhappy impression as she sank into herself there and looked at the silent piano with her head hanging.

  Adolé immediately felt an unexpected wave of compassion and sympathy for this woman, who obviously could not behave and who, without exception, behaved inappropriately rude to her. She had not expected this. "What's going on there now?" it shot through her head involuntarily. Somehow she felt sorry for her.

  She would have liked to withdraw immediately, because considerate as she was, she didn't want to bother Michelle with the details of her CD in this obviously unfavourable situation. But the business doesn't understand mood swings. After all, they had a big project in front of them that had already attracted worldwide attention. They finally had to discuss the details, at least in which style of music they wanted to approach it melodically.