A young pianist changes a student’s perception of good listening.

I remember right where I was sitting, center section, sixth row, in my high-school auditorium. I was a junior that year, sitting with my girlfriends, aware that our giggling and whispering might bother others trying to pay attention to the talent show in progress. Johnny Pagett, a senior, was walking across the stage as people positioned the large grand piano for him.

He sat, his fingers touched the keys and I forgot all about my friends and where I was. He played Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” I was stunned. I could not believe how beautiful it was! Where had this music been all my life? How could I have missed something so amazing? I was never the same again after those few minutes.

I bought my own little record player, and I amassed a small collection of Bach records, which I played daily. I went to concerts where I discovered other classical composers and their music.

I find it incredible that I don’t remember where or when I first heard Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. I must have loved it from the start because I remember saying I wanted it played at my wedding and my funeral. (Did I expect a full symphony present at either?) Hearing it at any point in my life feels like a tidal wave washing over me and carrying me away.

Bach or Beethoven?

I can never decide which I think is the greatest, Bach or Beethoven. I know I can’t listen to Beethoven when I’m not doing well emotionally. In fact, listening to Beethoven’s music is a good barometer for measuring how together I am at any given time. His music has a direct line right into my emotional center and overloads the circuits if I’m off balance.

Bach is more mathematical, less emotional, and I can listen to him any time. In fact, he soothes my frayed emotions, like smoothing out the frosting on a cake.

Through my piano lessons I learned to love Chopin and Liszt, though I could never render them as dynamically as they are meant to be played.

I went off to college with my classical records, causing my first roommate and her friends to look at me like I was from Mars. But thankfully there were many music majors in my dorm who also loved this music and shared theirs with me.

Through the years I’ve come to delight in Vivaldi, Handel, Haydn and others. I have a lot of friends who love Mozart, calling his music “perfect.” Mozart is all right, but I have never found in him what many others do, though I have tried.

Just when I thought my peak moments in classical music were behind me, 11 years ago, living in Seattle, I discovered opera! Now, I don’t love all opera, all the time. But the special arias of my favorite composers bring me absolutely to tears.

Ready to meet, greet

I bought the CD “Opera’s Greatest Moments,” found many of the selections were more gorgeous than I had ever expected and the aria “Nessun dorma” from Puccini’s “Turandot” – well, I had another moment like when I was in high school listening to Johnny Pagett! I was transported to another world. Where had this been all my life? I needed to make up for lost time.

That year I became a small, very small, expert on operatic arias. I found I loved Puccini best. Although I found some other composers’ music hauntingly beautiful, Puccini was my man. I traveled through a town where contest was going on to determine whether Verdi or Wagner was the greatest operatic composer, and I wanted to shout, “No, Puccini is the best, don’t you know?”

This year, I resolve to give myself more time for my music of all kinds, especially classical. I hereby thank Johnny Pagett, as well as my favorite composers, for enriching my life. And when I pass over to the other side, after saying hello to all my people, I want to request an introduction to my two enduring loves, Bach and Beethoven, to thank them in person.

Dianne Russell Kidder is a writer, consultant and social worker, who is based in Lisbon. She may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].