There had been much to look forward to until then. A child prodigy, she had wealth, beauty and a promising career. She had appeared in South America, Europe and Africa as a solo artist and with symphony orchestras. Her New York recital debut was scheduled for the following season. It took Ana Maria a dozen years to fulfill that postponed concert date, and when she did in 1974, she received a standing ovation. At the time only her mother and husband knew her memory was impaired. Ana Maria guarded her secret so critics would not pity her.
Since that appearance she has put in excruciating years of practice (a strong painkiller relieves the headaches that result from spending up to six hours daily at the keyboard), committing to memory page after page of Haydn and Mozart. In May she proved her piano mastery with a highly praised concert at Carnegie Hall. An international tour is booked for this summer. The story of her ordeal, To Live Again, has just arrived at bookshops.
Ana Maria feels her achievement is due to discipline instilled during childhood. Her father was a Buenos Aires businessman. Her mother had shown promise as a pianist until the death of her father forced her into teaching. Ana Siero de Trenchi was determined her daughter would do better. "I was slapped for saying 'I can't,' " Ana Maria recalls. Ordered to practice six hours daily, she was taken to Paris at 14 for further study.
During a December trip from Brussels to Paris, Ana Maria skidded on an icy road and slammed into a truck at 90 mph. No serious injuries were diagnosed. The small provincial hospital didn't even take X-rays. But within weeks a Paris neurosurgeon found she had a massive skull fracture and meningitis. A 10-hour operation and three months in the hospital followed.
Ana Maria returned to the piano soon after arriving in Argentina to recuperate but found her fingers would not move correctly. "It took six months to play a scale," she says, plus another two years memorizing enough pieces for small recitals, "some successful, some disastrous. I would be doing fine and then forget what I was playing. I still have lapses—while talking to someone I may forget who they are."
Bruno de Bottazzi, a conductor she met while mending, encouraged her comeback. The pair married and, though they could not speak English fluently, moved to St. Louis where she had a fellowship. "My husband gave up an orchestra to help me," she says. They taught piano and Ana Maria practiced at night. "We were often down to $5," she remembers. "My father would send my son Gustavo [now 12; they also have a daughter, Ana Maria, 5] $500 for toys. We ate on that money."
The chances of her sustaining a major career are limited by Ana Maria's age—40. "Everyone drops notes," she muses. "The competition is with the many great 18-year-olds. But then maybe I can bring something to music they can't. I've always known God will help me. Sometimes it just takes longer than you want."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
