My parents marriage has never been particularly stable. They met in middle school when they both joined the youth orchestra at their school. They hated each other immediately, which made it easy to compete ruthlessly against each other for the few musical scholarships available at their school. My father grew up in a family of musicians, so he learned from a young age to play multiple instruments, but his favorite was the piano. His father was a blues player while his mother was a fiddler, she played mostly folk songs. He grew up in a cramped apartment in Nashville with his parents and two younger brothers. On every shelf and table in their home you could find music sheets and records fighting for space. They lived paycheck to paycheck, relying on the gigs their parents could book to keep them afloat. It wasn't an easy life, but they were happy. My mother grew up a few blocks away with her mother and grandmother. Her father ran off with some girl half his age when my mom was eight years old, so her mother had to rely on my great-grandmother to watch my mom while she took every shift available at the bars and diners where she worked. My mother knew that they suffered financially, so she never asked for toys or new shoes, she instead devoted her time to learning violin from her grandmother. The neighbors would sometimes complain about the noise, but when my mother did household chores around their apartments for free- they stopped complaining. After years Of dedicated practice, she was welcomed into the youth orchestra. They spent all of middle school competing against each other, both equally determined to be the best- which they were. They parted ways once high school started because they transferred to different schools. And they were surprised to find that, somewhere deep, deep inside, they were sad to say goodbye. They wouldn't meet again until after college. They were both early graduates of their respective colleges, and since they were of like mind (though they would never admit it themselves) they ended up moving to Vienna at the same time to further their musical careers. And the only drawback of leaving college early was saying goodbye to the close friends they had made, particularly my father's friend Robert Green, and my mother's friend Diana Smith. My father started out as a backup pianist for the Vienna philharmonic, which was an incredible feat in itself, but he he was not satisfied. He was determined to become the main pianist, so he practiced more and he slept less, he began studying under the pianist of the philharmonic since she was already in her late fifties and was planning on retiring. He had to work three part-time jobs just to pay the bills and feed himself, so with all his time being consumed by work and apprenticing, he didn't have time for things so mundane as socializing- at least that's how he put it. It was soon after that point in his life when he met my mother again. While both my parents had the same dream of joining the philharmonic orchestra in Vienna, they took vastly different routs to get there. My mother knew that she wouldn't be able to secure a chair at only twenty years old, so she decided to work her way up. She auditioned for a small time chamber ensemble that did mostly weddings or the occasional masquerade ball in the city. She was welcomed into the group with open arms, where she used the events they performed at to make connections with other musicians. She spent six months with the ensemble before being invited into a small orchestra. She spent a year with them but left after meeting a retired composer/conductor who had taken a liking toward her. He said that she reminded him of his dearly departed granddaughter. He brought her to large scale events where she had the opportunity to showcase her skills and make connections within the musical world. Two years later she earned herself a seat among the musicians of the philharmonic orchestra, and by this time, my father had become the main pianist for the orchestra.
They didn't recognize each other at first, because after decade apart, they had changed drastically. He didn't realize who she was until their first rehearsal together, when she brought her violin to her shoulder, placed her bow gently atop the strings, and expertly wrought notes comparable to the blissful songs of the empyrean with each graceful sweep of her bow. He could never forget the unique way in which she coaxed the notes to life- mostly because it was the source of much annoyance for him. But this time, all he heard was beauty. He couldn't help but watch her after that, and two weeks after their first rehearsal, he asked her out. They met at a cafe where he reintroduced himself as the wildly gifted pianist whom she had always admired throughout middle school. She laughed, saying she remembered the wildly cocky pianist who she always despised, but she would be delighted to meet this 'gifted' pianist he spoke of.
That was the start of their relationship, they kept it a secret from their coworkers, friends, and even family. And during the next few years, they rose to fame within the community of classical music lovers. Their talent was admired by all, and people would travel from all over to see the philharmonic orchestra of Vienna perform. After three years of dating, they got married and had a child in the same year- which did inevitably out their relationship. My mother stopped performing live after having her first child, choosing to raise her children herself instead of leaving her son with a nanny for hours at a time, everyday. My father on the other hand, never stoped furthering his career. He started composing and was actually quite good, which is what led him to begin traveling abroad to share his work. Despite his long absences, they were happy.... then tragedy struck.
My father was in a car accident, his injuries weren't fatal, and he even escaped without any facial scars, but his hands were crushed. He received care from the best doctors in the country and made an almost full recovery. But during the process of healing he had to take very strong painkillers, and when the doctors stopped prescribing them, he turned to alcohol. He drank heavily for months, until he started composing again. But composing wasn't enough, he was unable to play the piano because of his injury. His drinking lessened when he composed, although not half as much as it needed to. He had a problem and my mother knew it. She begged him to go to rehab but he refused, stating that his career would be over if he stopped now. So they compromised, he would be allowed to go on a month long trip to share his newest composition, if he slowly weened himself off the liquor with her help. And It was going well until the scandal hit.
The headline read: "world renowned pianist and composer Jason Gilbert, spouse of violinist Isabel Gilbert and father of one known child, caught in an illicit affair with first chair violinist in the New York symphony Samantha Williams."
My brother was almost three years old at the time, and my mother was pregnant with me, which my father did not know. When he saw my mother again, she screamed at him and made him leave their apartment in Vienna. He went to rehab while my mother carried me to term, and he got out just in time for my birth. They dropped off the grid for a while. They raised their children and tentatively rebuilt the trust that had been broken. When they resurfaced I was two years old, and my mother started performing live again while my father stayed with my brother and I. And then a few years after that, they moved into the same neighborhood that their friends from college lived in. (Diana and Robert got married after meeting in Vienna when they were visiting my parents) And my parents joined the same orchestra as their friends, it wasn't a world renowned symphony, it was small, and they only performed once a month, but it was perfect for them. My father even tried to play the piano again, he wasn't as good as he used to be, but it brought him some small amount of peace. Life was good, but there was always some unspoken wall between my parents, one that would never go away.
My parents marriage has never been particularly stable. They met in middle school when they both joined the youth orchestra at their school. They hated each other immediately, which made it easy to compete ruthlessly against each other for the few musical scholarships available at their school. My father grew up in a family of musicians, so he learned from a young age to play multiple instruments, but his favorite was the piano. His father was a blues player while his mother was a fiddler, she played mostly folk songs. He grew up in a cramped apartment in Nashville with his parents and two younger brothers. On every shelf and table in their home you could find music sheets and records fighting for space. They lived paycheck to paycheck, relying on the gigs their parents could book to keep them afloat. It wasn't an easy life, but they were happy.
My mother grew up a few blocks away with her mother and grandmother. Her father ran off with some girl half his age when my mom was eight years old, so her mother had to rely on my great-grandmother to watch my mom while she took every shift available at the bars and diners where she worked.
My mother knew that they suffered financially, so she never asked for toys or new shoes, she instead devoted her time to learning violin from her grandmother. The neighbors would sometimes complain about the noise, but when my mother did household chores around their apartments for free- they stopped complaining. After years Of dedicated practice, she was welcomed into the youth orchestra.
They spent all of middle school competing against each other, both equally determined to be the best- which they were. They parted ways once high school started because they transferred to different schools. And they were surprised to find that, somewhere deep, deep inside, they were sad to say goodbye.
They wouldn't meet again until after college.
They were both early graduates of their respective colleges, and since they were of like mind (though they would never admit it themselves) they ended up moving to Vienna at the same time to further their musical careers. And the only drawback of leaving college early was saying goodbye to the close friends they had made, particularly my father's friend Robert Green, and my mother's friend Diana Smith.
My father started out as a backup pianist for the Vienna philharmonic, which was an incredible feat in itself, but he he was not satisfied. He was determined to become the main pianist, so he practiced more and he slept less, he began studying under the pianist of the philharmonic since she was already in her late fifties and was planning on retiring. He had to work three part-time jobs just to pay the bills and feed himself, so with all his time being consumed by work and apprenticing, he didn't have time for things so mundane as socializing- at least that's how he put it.
It was soon after that point in his life when he met my mother again.
While both my parents had the same dream of joining the philharmonic orchestra in Vienna, they took vastly different routs to get there.
My mother knew that she wouldn't be able to secure a chair at only twenty years old, so she decided to work her way up. She auditioned for a small time chamber ensemble that did mostly weddings or the occasional masquerade ball in the city. She was welcomed into the group with open arms, where she used the events they performed at to make connections with other musicians. She spent six months with the ensemble before being invited into a small orchestra. She spent a year with them but left after meeting a retired composer/conductor who had taken a liking toward her. He said that she reminded him of his dearly departed granddaughter. He brought her to large scale events where she had the opportunity to showcase her skills and make connections within the musical world.
Two years later she earned herself a seat among the musicians of the philharmonic orchestra, and by this time, my father had become the main pianist for the orchestra.
They didn't recognize each other at first, because after decade apart, they had changed drastically.
He didn't realize who she was until their first rehearsal together, when she brought her violin to her shoulder, placed her bow gently atop the strings, and expertly wrought notes comparable to the blissful songs of the empyrean with each graceful sweep of her bow. He could never forget the unique way in which she coaxed the notes to life- mostly because it was the source of much annoyance for him. But this time, all he heard was beauty.
He couldn't help but watch her after that, and two weeks after their first rehearsal, he asked her out.
They met at a cafe where he reintroduced himself as the wildly gifted pianist whom she had always admired throughout middle school. She laughed, saying she remembered the wildly cocky pianist who she always despised, but she would be delighted to meet this 'gifted' pianist he spoke of.
That was the start of their relationship, they kept it a secret from their coworkers, friends, and even family. And during the next few years, they rose to fame within the community of classical music lovers. Their talent was admired by all, and people would travel from all over to see the philharmonic orchestra of Vienna perform.
After three years of dating, they got married and had a child in the same year- which did inevitably out their relationship.
My mother stopped performing live after having her first child, choosing to raise her children herself instead of leaving her son with a nanny for hours at a time, everyday.
My father on the other hand, never stoped furthering his career. He started composing and was actually quite good, which is what led him to begin traveling abroad to share his work.
Despite his long absences, they were happy.... then tragedy struck.
My father was in a car accident, his injuries weren't fatal, and he even escaped without any facial scars, but his hands were crushed.
He received care from the best doctors in the country and made an almost full recovery.
But during the process of healing he had to take very strong painkillers, and when the doctors stopped prescribing them, he turned to alcohol. He drank heavily for months, until he started composing again. But composing wasn't enough, he was unable to play the piano because of his injury. His drinking lessened when he composed, although not half as much as it needed to. He had a problem and my mother knew it. She begged him to go to rehab but he refused, stating that his career would be over if he stopped now. So they compromised, he would be allowed to go on a month long trip to share his newest composition, if he slowly weened himself off the liquor with her help.
And It was going well until the scandal hit.
The headline read: "world renowned pianist and composer Jason Gilbert, spouse of violinist Isabel Gilbert and father of one known child, caught in an illicit affair with first chair violinist in the New York symphony Samantha Williams."
My brother was almost three years old at the time, and my mother was pregnant with me, which my father did not know. When he saw my mother again, she screamed at him and made him leave their apartment in Vienna. He went to rehab while my mother carried me to term, and he got out just in time for my birth. They dropped off the grid for a while. They raised their children and tentatively rebuilt the trust that had been broken. When they resurfaced I was two years old, and my mother started performing live again while my father stayed with my brother and I. And then a few years after that, they moved into the same neighborhood that their friends from college lived in. (Diana and Robert got married after meeting in Vienna when they were visiting my parents) And my parents joined the same orchestra as their friends, it wasn't a world renowned symphony, it was small, and they only performed once a month, but it was perfect for them. My father even tried to play the piano again, he wasn't as good as he used to be, but it brought him some small amount of peace.
Life was good, but there was always some unspoken wall between my parents, one that would never go away.