On a morning in May of 1803, Ludwig van Beethoven sat behind his piano on the stage of Augarten Theatre in Vienna and premiered his now-famous Violin Sonata No. 9 in A major, Op. 47. Reading the score over his shoulder was George Augustus Polgreen Bridgetower, the up-and-coming, biracial, African-Polish prodigy.
The sonata had just been finished the night before, and there was no time for a rehearsal. The violinist took a chance at improvising, mimicking a difficult piano run, and Beethoven beamed.
“Once more, my dear fellow!” he jumped up and shouted, and the two played the movement again.
From writers to scientists, nothing new comes to life without first being imagined.
For this week’s writer-in-residence Janice Eidus, there is something noble about this. Every new act of creation is a victory over the way things were.