Two Prodigies

I wrote a story about a concert pianist named Julian, whose best friend was a concert violinist named David. They met when Julian, who was touring the Continent in the late 1880s, stopped in London to perform with the Symphony, where David was carving out a career as a virtuoso soloist. They met, they hit it off, and they became the darlings of drawing rooms throughout Victorian society.

The story was written in 1998.

Imagine the hilarity on discovering, in 2009, a violin virtuoso also named David (Garrett, to be precise) who had become a rock star in the music world, blending classical pieces with rock/pop tunes to create, as I once remarked to Ter, a modern day style that Julian’s David would have embraced wholeheartedly.

Funnier still, David Garrett has a pianist buddy with whom he performs those lovely classical works composed for piano and violin—and his name is Julien (Quentin)! But for a single vowel, my David/Julian were a prequel to the “real” David/Julien!

An irony? A coincidence? An annoyance? (After all, mine came first.) Or was I subconsciously tapped into the auras of two prodigies destined to become the Dynamic Duo of chamber music?

Whatever it is, it never fails to amuse when Ter announces that David and Julien are on tour in Europe because, goshdarnit, that’s exactly what my David and Julian were doing long before these two got started.

*sigh*

Garrett and Quentin:
the "other" David-and-Julian