© 2010 Patricia Brambilla
© 2010 French-speaking Association of Readers of the Urantia Book
A tall white Tunisian woman with an immaculate shawl thrown over her left shoulder. A sparkling cross around her neck and two Madonnas in her ears. Elizabeth Sombart appears. Like a vision, out of nowhere, suddenly she is there. She has the halo of an angel, but when she speaks, her voice is deep. Words taken from the lower octaves that reveal an immense inner strength.
Sure, this virtuoso pianist, 51 years old, has an extraordinary will. A life of scales and concerts, honors and galas, entirely dedicated to classical music, which she has taken to the greatest halls in the world, in Paris, London, New York. But not only that. More attracted by the shadow of the humble than the spotlight of glory, she quickly chose other places. Like nursing homes, hospitals, prisons.
Convinced that the battle of pride leads nowhere and that music is an accomplishment, well beyond a foil or a single demonstration of technicality., A beauty that she still dreams of bringing to a specific place: in Israel, for the duration of a concert for peace, with the Orchestre Solidarité Resonnance, which she is in the process of creating. “Music is the place, if it is well played, of a possible communion of what is universal between all men.”
She is like that, Elizabeth Sombart, twirling and austere, luminous and imbued with a deep conviction. Barely incarnate, discreet about her earthly life, as if she lived elsewhere. In music, without a doubt. “Yes, the piano was my first home, and still is. It is a poetic space and the inner laboratory of all discoveries and wonders.”
As a child, she would take refuge under her mother’s piano and let herself be enveloped by the sounds. She never really came out of it. “Music consoled me and made me enter a world beyond limits. It was a royal invitation that I wanted to respond to all my life.” At 17, the one who grew up in a family of four children, at the foot of a castle in Strasbourg, did not hesitate to hit the road to follow her first teacher, Bruno Leonardo Gelber, to Argentina.
And then, a way of the cross. A divorce, a lost child. But, as a counterpart, she filled herself with enormous quantities of love. Mystical, a little. A believer, certainly. Illuminated? “I try to be myself-a bridge, an instrument as transparent as possible. When I play, I always say that it is a heavenly four hands.” Elte entered into music as one enters the orders. With the same fervor. Leans over a Mendelssohn score as if she were lighting a candle. Eyes half-closed, hands breathing, like offerings on the keyboard of the black lacquered Fazioli. "The work of the pianist is like a liturgy, a priesthood. We make the piano sing, we transform matter, the finiteness of sounds into poetry and we return to silence. » Like Saint Francis of Assisi, she submits to the three vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity. With obvious simplicity. “Yes, we must be obedient to the laws that govern sound relationships. Impoverish ourselves of everything that would like to be said in us, remove the bad self so that the music can express itself. Then we become chaste, that is to say, unified body and soul.”
Driven by this vibrant faith, she created the Résonnance Foundation in Morges in 1998, and in several cities around the world. A school that takes the opposite view of traditional conservatories, since there are no entrance exams, no exams, no age limits and the courses are free. “We must stop judging, I don’t like to talk about genius. We must be bearers of blessings for our students. Everyone is gifted in their own way.” Six teachers for a hundred participants, including one who is 85 years old. With this pedagogy of breathing, a key element of her musical teaching.
“We do not play the piano with our fingers, but with our diaphragm. The gesture on the keyboard is not a thing in itself, but the consequence of an inner breathing. A breathing which allows us to experience the unity between ourselves, the instrument and the music.”
Her words become hammers when it comes to talking about modernity. For her, music can only be tonal and stops at Bartok, without mentioning rock, “this evil gangrene”. "As soon as it is deconstructed, there is no more harmony. I studied contemporary music, I listened to it, everyone knows Boulez, but no one can whistle two notes. Whereas Chopin, I place him at the very top of the gate of Heaven.
She radiates, still comparing music to cooking, “this art which transforms matter into something ephemeral, which gives us the taste of eternity”. And while delicately whipping the blackcurrant berries with the same sense of perfection that she puts into interpreting a Bach chorale, she seems barely of our time. Does not give in to the temptation to taste the cream, she who fasts regularly to refine her ear. Has neither a bank account nor a credit card, has always lived on the charity of her friends, sometimes sleeping in her car, sometimes in castles. "I have made a vow of gratuity. I have never given a lesson or a concert for money.
I have been lucky to always find people who have helped me, bankers who fell from the sky, patrons. There has always been Providence for the foundation and for me."
Elizabeth Sombart, we doubt, never strays far from her piano for long. Just to ensure the survival of her school. A thankless task that does not take away an ounce of wonder from her. “Graces are greater than crosses in our lives. I rejoice in having one more day to become better. You know, I live with the perpetual remorse of not giving enough.”
“The work of the pianist is like a liturgy, a priesthood. We make the piano sing, we transform it and return to silence.”
Elizabeth compares music to cooking, “this art which transforms matter into something ephemeral, which gives us a taste of eternity.”
Patricia Brambilla