侄女因從中部飛來本地參加一個國際鋼琴比賽,讓我當了一回星媽.

上次見她還是二十年前, 我暑假回家,堂兄一家三口來杭州玩. 因四五歲光景,白淨可愛, 剛開始學琴.見她有空就拿出一長白紙條,上面畫滿了黑白鍵盤. 她胖呼呼的小手指在紙條上跳來跳去,練習彈鋼琴.以後的二十年裡,我隨大流地完成了從女學生到中年婦女的轉變, 不時聽到關於因的消息; 因考上上音附小了, 出國比賽了,進了音樂學院了….拿到獎學金來美國了.

終於見到因了. 接下來的一個多星期,我喜孜孜地開車送她去抽籤, 去練琴,去比賽. 第一輪的比賽她抽在第二天. 我陪她去看了第一天的比賽. 我外行一個地坐在那兒,只覺得個個都彈得不錯. 因笑嘻嘻地說怎麼都彈得比我好? 我緊張起來,馬上說那我們不看了, 回家吧. 因第二天比賽的時候,我什麼忙也幫不上.在後台的門口等她, 見她出來了,也不知該說什麼,缺乏做星媽的經驗啊! 因反而安慰我說彈完了,沒彈錯.

第一輪的比賽還有第三天,可我要上班去了. 中午吃飯時,因來電話,說她進了第二輪,37人有11人進二輪. 隔天送因去州立大學的琴房練了整一天. 比賽那天,我提前下班,匆匆趕去, 一進門就看見電視屏上因在彈琴,原來正好輪到她. 我看不出好壞,就徑直去後台門口等,不一會兒她出來了,笑笑說又完成任務樂. 但中間有彈錯. 我心一沉, 連忙說沒事, 周末和妹妹們去海邊玩吧. 後面還有兩位選手,等他們彈完, 我們就開始等評委會討論,然後宣布進決賽的名單. 等待的時候,不時有聽眾來和因說多麼喜歡她的演奏,有位小年輕跑來說我覺得你彈得最好,應該進前三. 我聽了滿心歡喜, 但一想到老美的甜嘴,我又警惕地看着小年輕的背影,看他有沒有又去和別的選手套近乎.不一會兒又過來倆水暖工模樣的人, 誇獎因的彈奏, 說很獨特(unique). 我聽了又高興起來, 而後我百無聊賴,翻翻手中的比賽手冊,發現水暖工之一原來還是比賽的董事會主席.心如過山車般上下了幾回,評委終於露面了.  首先宣布的是鼓勵獎,二人中選,沒有因. 而後宣布進決賽的三人, 有因和兩位帥哥.

決賽是和交響樂團合作的. 因最後得第三. 評委主席告訴說因在決賽中彈得最好,但名次是看三輪比賽的總成績. 我沒有去看決賽現場, 這裡轉貼我們當地報紙的評論吧,顯然記者是偏愛因的

First up was Tomer Gewirtzman, 18, from Haifa, Israel, currently studying at the Buchman-Mehta Academy of Music in Tel Aviv. He\'s tall and skinny, and, just by walking onstage, shyly charismatic, gave a sense of the way he plays: with power, but also a dreamy side, holding something in reserve.

He played Rachmaninoff\'s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, a torrential finger-buster. He is a huge talent: long fingers plying liquid interludes, with a chiming cadenza driving down to leather-punched bass notes, then shimmery trills in the treble. Yet, he seemed a couple of years away from storming the world; his emotional and technical palette needs more shades of color.

For me, the goose-bumps began when Chaoyin Cai, 24, from China and now studying at the Cleveland Institute of Music, peeled the opening chords to Rachmaninoff\'s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor: power and beauty! This was conversational playing, at home with the music, and extraordinarily accomplished: many colors and shades, with every phrase beautifully shaped.

She played satin textures or shifted from a whisper to a shout, singing Rachmaninoff\'s big songs. It was electric: She controlled the performance\'s temperature, partnering with the orchestra, which sounded lush and inspired - and, at times, carried away, too loud, drowning out some of Cai\'s passages. Still, I couldn\'t imagine the night getting much better.

For me, as it turns out, it had reached its pinnacle. Not that the final performer, 22-year-old Christopher Falzone, a Philadelphian studying at the Curtis Institute of Music, is some kind of slouch.

He was technically brilliant, mowing down Tchaikovsky\'s billion-noted Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor: those crashing, opening chords, bounding up across six-plus octaves; those flying double-octaves in the cadenza. He nailed all of it, but nailing it seemed the objective: The performance felt too screwed-down.

As he moved toward the finish, I thought, \"This is a no-brainer. Cai takes the gold, followed by Gewirtzman, then Falzone.\"

Then Falzone brought Tchaikovsky to a thundering finish and the audience burst into the night\'s biggest ovation.

Clearly, I was in the minority - and, half an hour later, on a ledge.

Out marched the judges, led by jury president Antonio Pompa-Baldi of the Cleveland Institute, who explained that their decisions were based on the night\'s performances as well as two earlier rounds of solo performances. It had been unanimous, he said,