A truly lovely remembrance of the late pianist Charles Rosen by Jeremy Denk over at the New Yorker:
At the end of the corridor was the nerve center: a piano stacked with music, a desk stuffed with papers, a threadbare couch, and a book-covered coffee table. It was desperately unhip. But it was affecting and intense, the accumulation of things, of ideas, and Charles’s shuffle.
Listen to Rosen play Chopin here.
Listen to the Fresh Air interview with Denk here.