A Hundred Sweet Promises

by Sepehr Haddad

  Later that evening, Irina revisited her diary. However, instead of recording any of the day’s happenings, she found herself reading again with great interest what she had written several entries ago. She looked back at the Ochi chyornye poem Nana shared with her, and as she went over the words, she conjured up the image of Nasrosoltan’s dark eyes, and she fell asleep still clutching her diary.

  Chapter 19

  The Secret Meeting Place

  Nasrosoltan’s coursework at the conservatory took more of his time these days, as he pursued increasingly challenging exercises in composition and orchestration. He desired to follow the same upward trajectory of his contemporary, Igor Stravinsky. Nasrosoltan respected and envied Stravinsky for having had the opportunity to study privately with Professor Rimsky-Korsakov.

  Stravinsky, who often described Rimsky-Korsakov as his second father, never had any formal music education. The professor had even dissuaded Stravinsky from entering the conservatory, instead offering him private lessons for a couple of years. Nasrosoltan was not as fortunate since his chance of being personally tutored by Rimsky-Korsakov was lost forever with the professor’s death. Nevertheless, Nasrosoltan closely followed Stravinsky’s career and was excited and curious to see the public reception of his latest work.

  In the newspaper, he read that Stravinsky had just premiered his latest composition, “The Rite of Spring,” in Paris at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, with dignitaries, royalty, and renowned musicians in attendance. It was Nasrosoltan’s lifelong dream that he would also perform his music for an audience of this caliber at such an esteemed venue and to have glowing reviews printed in newspapers and music journals.

  However, as he read on, he realized that the critics were not all kind to Stravinsky’s latest creation. It seemed that some of the more vocal audience at the premiere considered his work to be harsh sounding, and they reacted to the extreme with catcalls and whistling to show their displeasure. Dueling factions tried to drown each other out—one group dismissing Stravinsky’s music as grotesque, the other enamored by his avant-garde approach to laying a new world of music at the horizon, calling him a genius.

  Nasrosoltan had a deep reverence for musicians such as Stravinsky, who composed path-breaking works that tested the artistic boundaries of music. He understood that even though audiences and some critics wanted music that sounded pleasing to the ear, composers, especially ingenious ones, needed to push the limits. He believed music should stir human emotions, which it seemed Stravinsky’s work had succeeded in doing.

  In Persia, Nasrosoltan and Salar Moazaz had experienced a similar situation in trying to modernize Persian music, where traditional musicians resisted novel ideas and the needed innovation. To the dismay of these musicians, Salar Moazaz had compared Persian music to Western music as “a camel in a hopeless race against a railroad train, only to find out that it was lagging farther behind all the time.”

  Some considered the Minbashian family’s attempts to restructure Persian music to fit Western norms as a contemptuous disregard for traditional music. However, this family viewed it as a necessity. They felt it was imperative to break new ground and push the boundaries to bring Persian music out of what they believed had been years of stagnation. That is why Nasrosoltan had such an affinity for the groundbreaking work Stravinsky produced, and he admired the composer’s boldness in the face of criticism.

  Although Nasrosoltan was fascinated with Stravinsky’s stylistic diversity in pushing these boundaries, he was most of all enamored with romantic musicians, with one of his favorites being Franz Schubert. Schubert was not only a romantic composer, but he was also a progressive thinker in musical terms.

  Many years earlier, Professor Rimsky-Korsakov had tasked Salar Moazaz with orchestrating a Schubert piano four-hands march. In the process, Salar Moazaz developed an admiration for Schubert that also carried over to Nasrosoltan. When speaking about Schubert, Salar Moazaz would refer to the composer as the “Austrian poet of music” due to his ability to transform his feelings into musical notes with lyrical melodies. Father and son had played several of Schubert’s military marches together in Tehran, as these works were scored for two people at one piano.

  Nasrosoltan favored Schubert so much that he decided to tutor the princess on one of his works, the Fantasia in F minor, which he composed during the last year of his life. It was said that Schubert wrote this work in dedication to his pupil Countess Karoline Esterhazy, for whom he held a hopeless passion.

  Nasrosoltan pitied Schubert’s weakness in loving a woman who did not reciprocate his love. He wondered why the composer had allowed himself to experience such agony. Even though Nasrosoltan admired Schubert’s ability to create a masterpiece from such personal frailty, he also found the composer’s unrequited love to be his Achilles’ heel. Schubert’s story reminded Nasrosoltan of his own fragility while infatuated with Madame Shamsi. Recalling how terrible he felt back in Shiraz, Nasrosoltan vowed to never let a woman make him feel that way again.

  At the same time, Nasrosoltan also thought Irina may enjoy knowing Schubert’s inspiration for creating this piece. He believed it would allow her to understand the composer’s angst as he wrote for the woman who incited such a masterful work. Nasrosoltan found it unusual that he now spent so much time thinking of the princess during the week, as opposed to in the past when Irina had barely entered his mind.

  The day before his next lesson, Nasrosoltan visited Madame Lazar for tea and conversation. After they had a good laugh at his story about Irina’s puppy, she unexpectedly said to him, “My dear Monsieur, I have decided not to accompany you to the palace for your weekly lessons anymore. I now find it unnecessary since you have gained the confidence of the family, and I wish to spend more time attending to other activities.”

  This surprised Nasrosoltan since he knew what a curious lady she was. Although she did not mention this aloud, she was now getting the details about the events at the palace from Nana, so Madame Lazar did not feel she had to be physically present. Additionally, she found comfort in the fact that the family was happy with Nasrosoltan’s tutoring. Since he would be going back to Persia in several months, her position remained secure, which had been her ultimate objective all along.

  Nasrosoltan replied, “Dear Madame, I respect your decision, but know that you will be missed.”

  As he offered these words, Nasrosoltan actually felt relieved. Even though he never considered her tagging along each week like a chaperone as becoming of his position, he had enjoyed Madame Lazar’s presence. Her being there had kept the always-inquisitive Nana from showing up unexpectedly during their lessons. But he also found it ridiculous that anyone from the household would need to keep an eye on them. Of course, unbeknownst to him, Nana’s curiosity had more to do with his “fiery eyes” than her need to keep tabs on them during their lessons.

  The next day, with the new Schubert sheet music in tow, he came to the palace at the appointed time and, as usual, was welcomed in by the butler. He was excited to begin tutoring Irina on the piece, and she, in turn, seemed more delighted than usual to see him. He noticed she was radiant this day and was eager to show him she was well prepared through diligent practice since their last lesson.

  After Irina flawlessly performed the section she had so much trouble with the previous session, Nasrosoltan said to her, “Your Serene Highness, you played that piece with a passion and emotion that I had not witnessed until today. I think it is the perfect time to begin working on the new music I have brought.” Princess Irina was both excited and surprised to hear a compliment since before now, he had rarely praised her playing.

  Nasrosoltan continued, “It is a work of Schubert for four hands, which is different than a piano duet. Playing a two-piano duet may make one think of a struggle to compete. Playing with four hands on the same piano, however, requires harmony and balance between the two performers.”

  Irina was barely able to absorb the compliment he had offered moments before whi
le Nasrosoltan raised the bar for her lessons. As she listened to the new challenge, she began to fidget and look nervous. Nasrosoltan noticed Irina’s countenance and purposely softened his tone to encourage her in this new endeavor.

  He continued, “This can be difficult, but also fascinating when performed with perfect execution and the requisite practice, as you just demonstrated.”

  Nasrosoltan proceeded to tell her the story behind the Fantasia, which she listened to with keen interest. When he finished, Irina asked, “I feel so sad for poor Schubert; did the countess know he loved her, or was she unaware?”

  Nasrosoltan replied, “Not much is really known about their relationship, except that he dedicated this work to her. She was exactly Your Serene Highness’s age when he tutored her, and Schubert was a man older than I. If the age difference had not been an issue, the difference in their social standing would have probably made it impossible for any romantic relationship to develop. Therefore, it seems it did not matter whether she knew or not.”

  This remark moved Irina, who then inquired, “But Monsieur Minbashian, when one is truly in love, why would age or social standing be an impediment?”

  Nasrosoltan admired Irina’s genuine innocence; her question revealed her inexperience in matters of love and life. He replied, “You are correct; it is not a crime to love someone who does not reciprocate; or to love someone who, in the eyes of society, should not be the object of one’s affection. However, the lesson I take from Schubert’s life is that he used those feelings, which probably brought him more sorrow than joy, to create a work of art that has endured so many years after leaving this world.

  “This music will continue to be performed for ages by the likes of Your Highness and me, for he truly created an everlasting masterpiece. At least Schubert did not let those feelings go to waste. I must believe he did love her since, in my opinion, true love creates rather than devastates. That is what should be celebrated—this beautiful music! Now, let us begin since the hour is getting late.”

  Irina had never heard him speak in this manner, and she had never spoken of love with a man before. Evidently, she was closer to womanhood than anyone realized. She was intrigued by the new music and especially the story behind its inspiration. As they were about to sit side by side on the piano bench, for the first time, Irina seemed excited and silently hoped that he would sit closer to her than he usually sat.

  Four-hand works are typically composed so that players do not get in each other’s way. But because Irina was unfamiliar with the music, there were moments where her hands would inadvertently touch Nasrosoltan’s as they played. Sometimes their wrists even caressed one another when their fingers raced over the piano keys.

  The first time their hands crossed over, the bottom of Nasrosoltan’s wrist lying on top of Irina’s, it seemed as if for a moment neither wanted to move forward from that position onto the next key. That anxious encounter prompted Irina to giggle and blush while Nasrosoltan awkwardly pulled his hand away in a flash of fright, bringing it back into a safer sphere. He could feel his heart racing, a feeling that confused him.

  Whenever their hands met on the keys during the lesson, the same emotions surfaced, surprising them both. She would tremble with panicked excitement at the opportunity for the next wrist-to-wrist encounter, and he could feel his heart pounding within his chest as hands moved closer to meet on the keyboard.

  Even though they could not look at each other while playing four hands, their hands communicated as if they were in private, shutting out the gaze of any would-be spectator. Accidentally placed fingers brushing against each other created brief moments of contact between them, in a safe space, where such touching and nearness were permitted. Without the secret meeting place of the keyboard, this would not have been possible.

  This was uncharted territory for both, and the excitement that was ignited by this closeness felt especially uncomfortable to Nasrosoltan. To Irina’s surprise, he abruptly ended the lesson earlier than usual, giving her a few instructions for practice, and then departed.

  That evening, Nasrosoltan once again found it difficult to sleep as he was in a state of distressed excitement. He felt anxious and apprehensive and was preoccupied with thoughts of Irina. He became fearful that the relationship was transforming from a straightforward tutor-and-pupil one to something more complicated and problematic for him. He worried that he was playing with fire, which ironically was the same warning the commander had given him back in Shiraz when he was infatuated with Madame Shamsi.

  No one would blame a young princess for having such feelings, especially one so sheltered and protected. Still, his honor would inevitably be tainted and his reputation sullied if anything untoward developed between them.

  Nasrosoltan decided the best course of action would be to stop tutoring Princess Irina since he needed no distraction so close to finishing his studies and returning to Persia. He thought that the next morning, he would tell Madame Lazar that he needed to concentrate on his own burdensome coursework and could not continue to tutor the princess any longer.

  However, this thought lived for only that one short moment since Nasrosoltan considered retreating a show of weakness. He wanted to rise to the challenge, reasoning that he had enough control over his feelings to continue tutoring Irina without letting things get out of hand.

  Nasrosoltan blamed himself for leading this sweet woman along with talk of Schubert’s unrequited love for his own pupil. He realized how unaware he had been at the time of the subtle similarity between his tutoring a princess and Schubert’s tutoring a countess. He supposed she may have misinterpreted his choice of music and his telling of this story as signaling that he had similar feelings for her.

  Attempting to shut out such distracting thoughts, Nasrosoltan decided to put all his mental energies into his work. He spent day after day ensconced at the conservatory in serious study. This course of action seemed to work as he slowly regained his confidence. He reasoned that what had happened during the last lesson was nothing more than a passing fancy, and he would confirm this for himself the next time he tutored the princess without a hint of emotion.

  The next lesson appointment soon arrived, and Nasrosoltan was once again off to the palace. He decided beforehand to exude an air of formality during his short stay, to dispel any notion of misplaced affection between the two.

  As Irina sat down at the piano next to him, he noticed things about her he had not paid attention to during prior appointments. Her eyes seemed so innocent yet captivating. Her silky hair carried a subtle fragrance, and her long, slender fingers danced joyously on the piano keyboard. Everything about her seemed perfect this day. No matter how he tried, he could not be as formal as he had planned, and as soon as they performed on the piano side by side once again, the same feelings and emotions stirred up within him.

  Nasrosoltan tried to calm his racing heart as uncomfortable thoughts surfaced, making him more nervous. He took a quick sideways peek at Irina as she methodically performed the piece she had practiced so carefully. Irina, in turn, stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye, with the most enchanting smile fixed upon her lips, while continuing to play.

  She had indeed practiced much that week, for they played the first movement of the Fantasia in perfect harmony, not missing a beat. He was extremely impressed with her dedication to the music, which enthralled him even more.

  Nana, who had come to offer tea, stood by the entrance taking in the sounds emanating from the room, and she realized this was not the time to disturb them.

  When they finished performing the section, Nana entered the room, put the tea tray down, and poured them both some tea. As she left the room, she attempted to hum the beautiful melody she had just heard. Nasrosoltan and Irina both laughed, as they were totally unaware she had been listening.

  Nasrosoltan was thankful Nana could only see their backs, conscious that she could have witnessed their affectionate nonverbal cues. He complimented Irina for her playing,
and a grateful Irina replied, “Monsieur Minbashian, you should also be complimented for sharing with me the story behind such a work of beauty; it makes practicing more enjoyable when one knows the intent of the composer.”

  Nasrosoltan thanked her and then began to perform parts of the second movement, instructing Irina on what part of the piece she was to focus on for next week’s lesson.

  He confided, “I particularly like this second movement when Schubert opens it with a somewhat angry and turbulent theme that leads to a great deal of tension. This will then give way to a quiet, more lyrical second theme. It is a delight to perform. Your Serene Highness will surely enjoy it.”

  At this point, the princess turned to him and said, “Monsieur Minbashian, I know you address me as Your Serene Highness out of respect and proper decorum, but it would please me if you address me in private by my given name, Irina. I detest formalities such as these titles.”

  Nasrosoltan welcomed the fact that she felt at ease enough to suggest this. With a smile, he replied, “Then it is only fair that you would also call me by my name.” Then he jokingly added, “However, since Nasrosoltan is actually a title, I fear you may detest using it.”

  Seeing her smile fondly in return made him realize that his plans to be more formal had now totally gone by the wayside. More importantly, his resolve to control his emotions was fruitless in her presence, so he decided it was time to leave. She seemed visibly disappointed at his abrupt departure, as he bade her adieu until the next week.