The piano gods of my youth were Dinu Lipatti and Clara Haskil, both mysterious, enchanting. While I only knew Lipatti from his records, I was able to see Clara Haskil live in concert twice, in Burgdorf and in Lucerne. Well, I even begged to get her autograph. Her unerringly precise, almost weightless playing has remained my ideal to this day. My piano piece, written for the Concours Clara Haskil, attempts to trace the lines of her lonely, pain-stricken life, marked by relentless self-criticism a...