Late Night in South Beijing with Sergei R.

The Teacher

In my teens, I was lucky enough to have an incredible teacher: Prof. Ansgar Janke of the University of Music and Theatre Munich. Not only did he possess the rare ability to refine every student's piano technique through a scientifically guided approach, but he also shaped much of my work ethic and methodical thinking—principles I’ve applied to all aspects of life.

Years Later in China

Fast-forward to 2021. Living in Beijing during Covid, I found myself reminiscing about those formative years. After countless days, nights, and weekends immersed in architecture practice, I decided to dust off my piano skills. Never one to shy away from a challenge (or perhaps just foolish enough), I set my sights on one of the greats: the first movement of Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto in C minor.

In my early twenties, I had already played the second movement. Its opening pages are deceptively approachable, but as the piece progresses, it builds into what I can only describe as a non-virtuoso blockade—scales cascading into that famous two-handed third trill. Pure magic.

The first movement is another beast entirely. Even the opening chords pose a challenge—most hands simply don’t span that far. Mine certainly don’t. But if the great Hélène Grimaud is allowed to play an arpeggio there, so am I. From that moment on, the real fun begins: rolling cascades of scales while the orchestra introduces the main theme.

I spent about three to four months practicing and memorizing the piece. Eventually, I wanted to capture my progress in a recording. With little knowledge of audio production, I did the obvious: bought a USB interface and two cheap microphones on Taobao and jumped in.

Late Night in South Beijing

While scouting piano shops in Beijing for a grand piano, I stumbled upon a store in a southeastern suburb that specialized in used instruments. There, I found a magnificent 2.70m-long Steinway C from New York. If I had bought it, watching the movers haul it up to my 23rd-floor apartment would have been quite the spectacle.

In that store, I made an impromptu and rather imperfect recording of my practice. I managed to convince the staff to let me play late at night, assuming the shop would be empty. But, of course, I forgot... this was China. Evenings are still prime sales hours—just not in person. Instead, staff members were moving a laptop from piano to piano, streaming live video while repeatedly playing the same jingle. Unfortunately, they weren’t open to my suggestion of mixing things up with a little Rachmaninoff.

Somehow, I squeezed in a third or fourth take before exhaustion took over. Ironically, my best attempt was interrupted just before I finished. So what remains is an imperfect rendition—better shared than left collecting dust on my hard drive. It also serves as motivation to do it all again, this time with better preparation, equipment, and location—and perhaps even to tackle the exhilarating third movement.

Let me know your thoughts!