How do I explain thee, Carolina Kostner? Let me count the ways.
This, after watching her Ave Marie, as she delivered her team short program performance on Feb. 8.
Are there words? We’ll try.
The Olympics has never been her friend. Until now. She was spellbinding, saintly, glorious, beauteous. When Kostner skated, you forgot everything that came before, and everything that came after.
It was the perfect marriage of art and ice. You could see it all welling up inside her as she took her spot, a glow on her brow, soft sparkle at her neck. And when she started to move, the crowd applauded. She hadn’t done anything. She’d just moved, her arms softly sweeping, carried by the calm voice, which was her music.
Two minutes, 50 seconds seemed like a breath.
Yes, Kostner finished second to a moving sprite, Julia Lipnitskaia, perhaps because the tiny Russian chalked up loads of points with her great tricks, the difficult triple-triples, the crazy spins that defy human possibilities, those wonderful flourishes. But Kostner lived and breathed her work and it came from a place deep within that only experience, and tragedy and triumph can bring. We saw her soul and spirit. She was eloquent without words.
So, we want more, Miss Carolina. Much more of that. You win.