I just received a text message on my cellphone with the sad news that Mstislav Rostropovich has passed away. Still sitting here at Copenhague airport, and even though I was prepared (I knew he was severely ill, cancer in its last stadium) I feel like in shock. My plane is leaving in 15 minutes and I don't feel the motivation to get up and do the normal thing like standing in line and boarding.

I like reviews, like the concept of some anonymous writer being able to say whatever pleases him about what we just did. Normally people and musician friends who show up after concerts won't say the truth (well, there is no truth to start with) - whatever is being said is highly subjective. But in general musicians never really say what they think to other musicians after their performance, which is also due to the fact that we don't even want to hear any criticism right after a performance.But as musicians are very hard to please, so are reviewers, as we all know - and more than musicians, they often have some very strong (almost preconceived) ideas how certain pieces should be played. If the musical ideas have their origin in them studying the score, I am happy. The problem is when critics get their musical knowledge and references from recordings. In recordings everything sounds so much more present and direct (and more perfect...) that they are a hard act to follow. Besides that - why should we want to play and interpret the pieces like they have been interpreted in the past 50 years?

This morning I had the rather unique publicity chance to have a 6 minute appearance in the "Zweite Deutsche Fernsehen", the Second German Public TV-Station, a show with the highest attendance rating, and my slot was the best in that show... I have played a number of important and unimportant concerts, but this kind of stress is completely different. First they picked me up at 7:10 am, 1h40 before I had to actually do my thing. Yes, little sound check, bit of make-up, but that took about 10 minutes. The rest of the time I had plenty of time to realize that this is something I haven't done much and might not be so good at. As a matter of fact, the last time I did it, I completely sucked...

Sitting with a glass of red wine after the first day of recording - how much more fulfilling does life get? Next to me my dear producer Andrew Keener, who kept up with my horrible moods during the last movement of the last Reger Suite - my God, why does this guy write such difficult stuff????

Do you know how it feels when you have this pile of work in front of you to practice and you can't really move yourself behind the cello? Or any instrument for that matter?

In March 2006 I recorded the second Volume of Romantic Celloconcertos with the Radiosinfonieorchester Berlin under the direction of Hannu Lintu in the Jesus-Christus-Kirche in Berlin (the same venue where Karajan recorded many of his records) - concerti by Schumann, Dietrich, Gernsheim and Volkmann. Why would I record pieces I have never heard of. Why not Schumann with Rococo, Dvorak and Elgar? These are concertos I play over and over, I know backwards and I interpret  differently to other performers. Why not? Because I wouldn't buy this disc myself - have already too many like that. Because I find it more interesting to enlarge the cello repertoire than to jump around the same (beautiful) handful of pieces. To learn completely new pieces for just one performance which is forgotten as soon as it has been played, is almost not worth the effort. For a cd it's different - you can show to an audience of several thousand listeners, that there are other worthy pieces, and you can play them over and over again.