Schumann: Piano Concerto – Yunchan Lim, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Jakub Hrůša

I am neither a musician nor an expert, so I cannot deconstruct his technique or dare write a formal analysis. I can only speak from the heart. To me, his playing feels like the structural foundation of Bach: a deeply rooted tree with leaves that dance wildly, wildly in the wind. He is as vast and free as the open sky, the endless deepest blue ocean, and a piercingly bright night star.

His music is often achingly sad, yet a love that is breathtakingly beautiful. He inhabits his own universe, and I feel privileged to catch a glimpse of it, aligning my own pulse and heart with the tempo of his time. In those moments, time itself feels suspended in a state of ethereal bliss, which makes the silence all the more piercing once the sound fades—once that dance ends.

Watching the footage of the musicians’ daily life, seeing them wrapped in the warmth of a shared musical mind, I felt a rare and intoxicating envy. To spend a life so deeply immersed in music is a profound longing, and I am grateful for the moment I spent peering into that warmth. I believe that at his core lies a deep compassion, through which he shares his gifts with all of humanity. And when I hear the space within his music, our two pulses beat as one. I feel a complete love through his music.