He only had to hit a little white ball into a hole not more than a few feet away. Six feet to be precise. He looked at it. Studied the angles. Did his preparation. Studied the angles again. Stood over the ball again. It’s not too much to say it was a putt to win, in my view, the Ryder Cup. He paused. The American Jim Furyk felt the gaze of millions of telespectators from the around the world. He already saw himself punching the air in celebration as the putt dropped into the hole. He looked up one last time. He hit the ball. It missed. Not long after, Europe won the most remarkable come-back I’ve seen since last May when the even more remarkable last minute goal by Sergio Aguero won (and deservingly so) Man City the English Premier League. These are such fine lines between success and failure. A fraction of an inch on a putting green. A fraction of an inch on a football pitch. The penalty missed, the smash over-hit, the hurdle not quite cleared. And there’s no going back.
Right now, I am en route to Vancouver, one of my favourite cities in the world and home to a wonderful film festival (VIFF). With three or four festivals on at any one time somewhere in the world, there are a tremendous amount of festivals out there. In the past few weeks, I have turned down trips to various places including Sardinia (SIEFF) which is a bit of a shame as not only have I always wanted to go there and THE BOY MIR won the top prize there. Vancouver is one of the best festivals I’ve ever been to and I’ll be introducing IN SEARCH OF HAYDN. It will be fun to watch the film too as I have been tremendously busy on IN SEARCH OF CHOPIN for the past few months. Both Haydn and Chopin share something with those golfers, footballers and tennis players. They both experienced moments of fortune that carried their lives in one direction, when it could so easily have been another. Too often I read suggestions that somehow they were pre-destined to be such successful artists. It just ain’t so. I’ve found that their lives – and the lives of all creative folk – have many moments of good fortune without which it’s plausible they quite simply would not have reached these heady heights. Last week I spent a few long, tough but highly rewarding days in France filming for the Chopin film. I finally feel I’m getting to know him and identify what parts of his story need to be told in a film. Two days of walking Paris with my camera & tripod took me to all the spots he lived in and some he played at.
Then a three-hour drive south to the wonderful house he shared for seven summers with his partner, the female author George Sand. The interiors there are fantastically well-preserved: it feels as if Chopin has just popped out for a walk. Finally therefore I start to get a sense of the man. More importantly, I increasingly grasp his period of history, without which there can be no real understanding. How many other fine musicians and composers lie unrecognised because they remained in dour courts, or died early of smallpox, or ran out of money and changed careers? Hadyn has moments of absolute fortune. Chopin absolutely did too. Sometimes, you have to be plain lucky. The trick though is to practice twelve hours a day to make yourself lucky. And then have the self-awareness to know when you’ve been lucky and to make the most of it. I’m lucky: I moan about lack of funding but I’ve just spent a week filming in France on a subject I love and now, tonight, I’ll screen a film I’m proud of to a sell-out audience in a city I find exhilarating. Later this week I’ll be filming a Beethoven concert at the LA Philharmonic with Gustavo Dudamel and Leif Ove Andsnes. I’ve worked hard to be lucky but lucky I am.
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