Ashes over Europe
What an amazing sensation: because of some vulcano eruption many thousand kilometers away the entire air traffic has come to a halt – mother nature shows us her power again and we have to realize how tiny we are and how much we depend on flying; especially the travelling musician who has gotten used to dashing back and fourth between continents suddenly has to change plans, cancel concerts and maybe even take an unplanned holiday. Did I get affected? Yes, just a little bit I had spent four lovely days in the city of my dreams, the crown jewel of European capitals, the city of love, Paris. City of love especially for me, since my first “real” girl-friend was French, and back then she lived in Paris, so I knew it quite well from 1989 on. So many fond memories pop up as soon as I get out of the RER (train from the airport), smell the Parisian air, see the beautiful Haussmann buildings and feel the energy of this pulsating city. Holidays again? No, “work”; two times Dvorak Concerto with the Orchestre National de France at the Theatre Champs-Elysee with two different conductors: first night I had the 82-year-old Kurt Masur, and the night after very young Indonesian Adrian Prabava.
Prokofiev and Masterclass in Houston
Exhausted and flattened by a somewhat more tiring than usual Prokofiev-Sinfonia-Concertante I am sitting in my dressing room while Hannu Lintu is conducting the second half, Sibelius Symphony No.2 with the Houston Symphony. Oh yes, I would have loved to play this great piece, even asked for sitting in the section for the second half, but then suddenly I felt such fatigue after my performance that I am glad that it didn’t work out (they didn’t have an extra part for me). In Strasbourg I played this symphony after a Dvorak Concerto, but the Prokofiev requires even more energy.Quite a conincidence though that Sibelius 2 is the first work for orchestra both Hannu and me played as children, he as a 12-year-old cellist in a youth orchestra, me being 15. We forget so many things, but something meaningful like the first ever experience in an orchestra you can never forget. I would have turned out a different human being if it wasn’t for my participation in this German Youth Orchestra, sharing the passion for music with youngsters from all over (back then) West-Germany. Looking back I realize without regret how old I have become – 25 years is a long time, a quarter of a century, and time has accelerated since then that I believe I don’t even have a chance enjoying a real mid-life crisis since I come to realize that two thirds of my life have passed already.
Composer and Conductor
Are composers the best performers of their own works? “Children’s Corner” played by Debussy himself – is that the way he wanted it played (it sounds a bit drunk and crazy to tell yout he truth)? Prokofiev or Shostakovich playing their own piano concerti – the ideal performances everybody should imitate? How about Rachmaninov, truly one of the greatest pianists ever, maybe more pianist than composer? Or the famous conducting-composers like Stravinsky, Mahler (are there any recordings of this genius?) or Bernstein – how free can they be with their own works?
Musical Projects auf deutsch
Nach Konzerten in Spanien kommt man meistens eher spät ins Bett. Zunächst fangen musikalische Veranstaltungen offiziell erst um 20h30 oder sogar 22h30 an, und zwar bestimmt nicht pünktlich, dann sind die Zuhörer und Orchestermitglieder weniger scheu, nach dem Konzert noch mit dem völlig durchgeschwitzten Cellisten (in diesem Falle stand  Prokofiev’s Monster-Cellosinfonie auf dem Programm, also Flüssigkeiten im Überfluss….) über alle möglichen und unmöglichen Dinge zu sprechen, und schlussendlich gibt es insbesondere in Städten am Meer (in meinem Falle La Coruna) großartige Restaurants, in denen dann zu spätester Stunde (ab Mitternacht) noch meeresfrüchtelnde Festmahle mit fröhlich sprudelnder Weinquelle unmöglich vermieden werden können, da man die großzügigen Gastgeber nicht vor den Kopf stossen möchte; nur nebenbei sei erwähnt, dass es gerade diese spätabendlichen kulinarischen Aktivitäten sind, die mich bei Konzertangeboten aus Spanien ohne zu Zögern immer zusagen lassen
Hinzu kommt, dass die Qualität der Orchester in den letzten Jahren derart gewachsen ist, dass diese sich auch vor verwöhnten deutschen Ohren überhaupt nicht verstecken müssen, ganz im Gegenteil. Selten ertönte die beliebte “Peter-und-der-Wolf”-Blech-Stelle im letzten Satz derart klangschön und präzise wie gestern in La Coruna.
Cellist on Pilgrimage
After spending some cold and wet days in Calgary, where I first played half a solo recital for the sponsors (oh, I was so jetlagged that I got lost twice in my 5th Bachsuite – well, isn’t it a nice excuse, the jetlag, although I tend to get lost in that piece with the tuned down A String more or less each time I have to play it :)) and then the following days for the first time in some while the Dvorak with the excellent Calgary Philharmonic under James Judd, I was supposed to have almost an entire day at home for repacking and family purposes – unfortunately (or finally again!) we are experiencing an amazing winter in Berlin, really cold, tons of snow but with the minor side effect of cancelled flights and long delays at various airports.
If you have nothing to say...
… don’t say anything. This very wise saying I kept in mind for the last few weeks, not writing a single sentence in this little blog here – batteries and head empty, time for retreat and recharging the run-down, abused system. One of my tricks how to deal with the stress of performing and travelling, the tristesse of being alone and without family, is simple: I ignore it, I pretend it doesn’t exist, I ask from myself to be superhuman – but at the end of the day, I am not, and I felt it very strongly after my last performance in Frankfurt on December 19 with two Boccherini Concertos (radio orchestra and Markus Stenz were my partners – don’t remember how it went at all, everything blanked out). I was ready for a good rest, and luckily enough I didn’t have to look at my cello for three weeks altogether, just enjoying the Christmas days in the circle of my rather large family (4 sibblings with tons of kids on their own) and my little one at home. Even New Year’s celebration was very calm but beautiful, with a very good friend coming over with his family, cooking together, drinking, talking, playing games – and suddenly it was midnight and for once we all went to bed early.
Teaching and Performing
My father is one of the most dedicated teachers I have ever come across. Since more or less 50 years he has tought the violin, starting at the tender age of 17, and now, after retiring from playing in the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra for 43 years, he will still have his students at the UdK in Berlin as well as his work with the German Youth Orchestra to make a smooth transition into full retirement (as if this would ever happen!). His dedication and enthusiasm for teaching has made a very big impression on me with a very funny affect: I love to teach, and I grab any possibility of a masterclass to teach – nevertheless because of my father’s dedication I refuse to take a teaching position. I would not be able to fulfill it with the same responsability and care he has shown and which I am convinced is necessary; students seek and need a lot of attention and help, and with me travelling extensively and trying to be as dedicated a father as I can be, I know some of the three things (family, playing, teaching) if not all three would suffer.
Haydn in Miami Beach...
It feels like holidays! Even though I had a very intense rehearsal today with the New World Symphony here in Miami Beach, I haven’t felt like that since a couple of months – funny, what a little bit of sun can do. After arriving here last night at around 11 pm I followed the advice of the driver who picked me up from the airport and went to two of the places where “it’s happening”. He didn’t tell me what was happening, and until now I don’t quite understand what is so special about a couple of hundred people, lots of booze and loud music. But except myself they all seemed to have a great time, “hanging out” and small-talking their way through the night – well, let’s face it, I am a complete bore, don’t dare to talk to anybody, don’t drink on my own and in the middle of many happy, sociable people I manage to stay as lonely as on a desert island, except that I might have been happier on that island. I just proved to myself again that I am the opposite of a party-animal and gave up after about 30 minutes of watching drunk people. Mr. Party-Pooper went straight to Walmart, bought some fruits for the morning and took a good 6-hour sleep before getting up for the “holiday” which started with a memorable jogging at the beach. What would I give for being able to do this every morning – it re-energizes my mind more than even the strongest coffee, and gives me more happiness than a good dinner. And the beach is indeed spectacular, especially in the morning when there is nobody.
Copenhagen's gorgeous new concert hall
I heard the rumour that 300 journalists got get laid off because the Danish Radio Station went completely over budget with their new concert hall in Copenhagen and in order to avoid bancrupcy they had to cut down their work force. Last week I had the immense pleasure to play in this absolutely stunning looking hall which and as much as it must have heard the people who lost their job, this hall was indeed worth the effort. I have never ever seen anything like it, although the architect must have been inspired by the Berliner Philharmonie with the audience sitting around the stage – but unlike in Berlin it is much less spread out, the feeling is more intimate, and the warm colours make it look like the coziest living room space. Acoustically it felt very good on stage, and the big Tchaikovsky Suite in the second half (never had heard that piece before) sounded very impressive from my seat in the hall. No, I chose not to sit in and play because I wanted to hear the Danish Radio Orchestra in their new hall as a normal listener.It showed again how important a really good concertmaster is; it affects the entire string section, and this lady was such a strong leader, that for example the middle movement of the 2nd Shostakovich Concerto felt like an easy task for the first time ever. Oh, I adore this piece, and with the support from this top-notch orchestra it was much less scary than it usually is. Unfortunately the most dangerous part, the famous tenths in the first movement, which I nailed in all the rehearsals, didn’t come out as well as it should have: I had a tiny memory slip but the Russian conductor Alexander Vedernikov saved my behind by bringing in the attentive orchestra half a bar early, since I had jumped ahead in my slight confusion… Sorry, Dmitry, won’t happen again.
Breaking Bows and Strings in London
“What a passionate performance! You must be a very passionate man?” was the question (in French, oh mon Dieu!) in a radio interview during intermission in Brussels ten days ago. My answer wasn’t flattering to myself, but what do you expect me to say? “No, I am not passionate at all, rather very boring.” Well, this is what I answer when I am being asked questions like that, especially since I felt pretty empty and thus boring after the Walton performance. I had to think of this interview because today I did something seemingly very passionate: first my bow broke in the middle of the first movement of Brahms’ F-Major Sonata during my rehearsal with Steven Osborne two hours prior to our lunchtime concert at the Wigmore Hall in London, and then, within 2 minutes of our live-broadcast concert my D String broke. Passion? Or just bad luck?? Nine years ago I had bought this gorgeous bow made by Nikolaus Kittel, the Russian “Tourte” as he has also been labeled, which broke three months afterwards. I couldn’t believe it and actually broke into tears because this bow was the first “thing” I really loved. I felt (and still do feel it) that he is the perfect alongation of my arm, and that all the music and sounds I want to create go directly from my arm through the bow into the string. Hans-Carl Schmidt in Dresden fixed it back then and it held up for 3 years, then broke again. My violinmaker in Berlin did the next few jobs, because every other year it would give in into the stress of being played every day for many hours in, yes, let’s call it a passionate way.
ECHO Gala
I just finished a far too long day; at 2:30 am I returned to my hotel in Brussels after exchanging the Meeuwissen cello with my Goffriller, packed my suitcase, slept 4 hours and took an early train at 7:18 am back to Berlin. After my flight into Brussels was even cancelled last week and I missed half of my first and only rehearsal for the Walton Concerto, I was happy to take the train back home, even though I wasn’t all that lucky – some problems with the powerline delayed us for an hour. In Berlin I had half hour to shower, switch to a more formal look and drive with my little car to Dresden where that evening the popular ECHO-awards for various recordings were handed out at a gala event in the famous Semper-Opera.
Experiments on Stage - Too Risky?
In an interview I was recently asked if after playing the premier of the Chin Concerto by heart there were no more risks to take. I didn’t quite understand the question, and I felt it was necessary to indulge a little bit in what “taking risks” actually means. Obviously it is the opposite to “playing it safe” which already at the age of 21 I felt wasn’t my way. My father wanted me to join his orchestra (Berlin Philharmonic) and I would have been safe for the rest of my life, at least financially. I opted against it, feeling deep inside the need to keep on living on the edge, with no fixed income.I remember very vividly when in April 1991 I played my debut in Tokyo. Together with Tomoko Masur, the conductor’s wife whom I had met there at a private party, I visited a Japanese temple where one could draw a little piece of paper, size and content similar to the ones in fortune cookies. I had the choice to disregard the prediction of ones future by throwing it away or accepting it by tying it to a certain cord which was hanging there. What I drew wasn’t very good: it said that my ship was still in safe waters but that it was directed into a huge storm, the outcome would be uncertain. Guess what – I accepted it!
Playing for Youngsters and with Legends
I refuse to spend 27 Euro per day to be able to use the internet in my hotel (Hilton in Brussels)! Yes, these hotels are criminal, if you think that for already 10 Euros you can get a flat rate for an entire month. At lesser fancy hotels the wireless access is included, but since the Orchestre National de Belgique is generously paying for my (very nice) room in this hotel, I am writing these lines in a café before meeting the conductor Walter Weller for dinner. This morning we played a so-called open rehearsal at the Palais des Beaux Arts of about 600 children from and around Brussels. “Open Rehearsal” for which we had to have a rehearsal in order to get all the bits and samples right the moderator wanted us to play. It was a very well crafted analysis of the first movement of Brahms’ Third Symphony and the first movement of the Walton Celloconcerto.No, nothing to do with a rehearsal, but very informative and interesting for the kids, because Michael, the narrator, wanted to give them some tools how to listen to music. There are so many ways how to reach out to the younger population with classical music, but one has to want to make an effort. Today was a wonderful experience, seeing this hall half packed with kids who are not into classical music, but who, after being told what to look out for (little bits of themes being imitated, some rhythms reappearing throughout a movement), listened very attentive to the soft and melancholic beautiful first movement of “my” Walton Concerto. And I am glad we didn’t play the obvious scherzando-like second movement but challenged them with some real emotions. At the Q&A session afterwards they presented me with some pretty profound questions (how does one put emotions into music?” for example) and just showed me that we totally underestimate the desires of the young ones.
Careless in Amsterdam
I booked the perfect train, not too early, not too late, only one change, and the best: incredibly cheap (49 Euros in first class from Amsterdam to Bremen). Only mistake: the ticket was only valid for these specific two trains stated on my ticket. This is why I jumped up from my delicious little breakfeast with friends from Chicago (Larry Kirkegaard, yes, related with the philosopher, an accoustician who succesfully re-invented the sound of the Royal Festival Hall in London and many others) at the Bagel&Beans place around the corner from my hotel in order to catch the perfect tram to my perfect train.20 Minutes before departure I arrived at Amsterdam Centraal, but I couldn’t find the train towards Germany at 10:58.
The loneliness of a soloist
Beautiful hall, wonderful orchestra, good audience, nice success – and one hour later I am sitting (again) in the artist lounge of the Concertgebouw, alone and tired after a very long day, but not ready to go to bed yet. I could have gone out with some of the orchestra musicians, but somehow I felt so empty and exhausted that I let this chance pass and now I regret it a bit, because to have finished the debut with the Concertgebouw Orkest would call for some kind of party, and now there is nobody to party with…
In the Philippines with Cecile Licad
“What are you doing in Manila?” – with these words Cecile greeted me when I rang at her door of the (really nice) hotel. She knew I was coming, because two days later we were scheduled to play a recital together, but somehow she didn’t really believe I would make that trip all the way to Manila to play with her and also with the Philippines Philharmonic Orchestra. The answer is easy: I really love playing with this woman who with her instinctive way of approaching music helped me a lot to develop as a musician, to become freer and more expressive. Unfortunately we hardly get the chance to play together (don’t ask me why, I don’t know!!), so when asked if I would be willing to perform with her in her homecountry I didn’t hesitate. OK, the other truth is, that whenever we rehearsed in NY (her residence since many years), Cecile usually cooked for me some delicious food of her country, so part of the reason was also that I wanted to eat more of that And I assure you, I ate, alright, phantastic dishes in some phantastic homes; Cecile in her childhood was a protegé of the back-then first lady Imelda Marcos (also known as the shoe-lady) and good friends with her daughter Irene, who invited us to a memorable dinner at her beautiful home. I starved myself all day (only a bit of cereal in the morning) in order to be able to enjoy the dinner, and it was soooo worth it, you have no idea. The recital with Cecile was as always a very special treat (we both played some solo, she some Chopin, me the Ligeti Solosonata, and then together Janacek Pohadka, Beethoven A Major and Shostakovich Sonata) – and it’s fun to play in front of an audience with their home-town-heroine!
Beautiful Mexico
After not touching my cello for 18 days after the last concert of the season (the Chin premier in London) I started practising again on August 31 for my concerts in Mexico with the Orquesta Nacional under Carlos Miguel Prieto. The break definitely had a cleansing effect – after a couple of hours of warm-up I felt very comfortable with both the Schumann and the Haydn D major Concerto and was looking forward to go on tour again. Two days had to be enough before I started my first trip of the new season to the country of my brother-in-law, Mexico. Long flight, but, and maybe that’s a sign of good luck for this season, Lufthansa upgraded me (as a frequent traveller) without even telling me – I just ended up in Business class which for a 12-hour flight is heaven! (and takes care of jet-lag)
The Week After
I promise I really wanted to write my freshest memories from the world premier of Unsuk Chins Celloconcerto – and what happened? Nada, niente, nothing but hot air! Laziest cellist in the world has nothing to say anymore, even though there were enough emotions flowing I would have liked to capture in the aftermath. Big difference: normally I am alone after a performance, and the trip back home or to the next engagement has lots of empty time which I often fill with writing e-mails and blog. This time my little family came over to London to hear what all the work in Puerto Rico had been about. Besides that they love the Proms and didn’t want to miss my second one within 12 months (I got to play Prokofiev’s Sinfonia Concertante August 2008 after the Chin premier got postponed). But with my son and wife around I didn’t have a free second afterwards, especially since we had planned a mini-trip to Italy and Croatia right after the concert.
When something is too difficult!
About 30 years ago, we spent another Easter holiday in Salzburg where my father as member of Berlin Philharmonic had to play under Karajan during the Festspiele, I heard as a 10-year-old for the first time in my life the young Krzystian Zimmermann. Karajan had introduced him to his sponsors (after a so-called “Förderer-Probe”) as his own discovery, and I managed to experience the g-minor Ballade by Chopin after having practised my own little children piece (Gavotte by Prokofiev) in a one of the warm-up rooms, where I secretly used to practise. This was an absolute eye- and ear-opener, I fell in love with the piece and forced my piano teacher back in Berlin that I HAD to learn this piece.
Holidays combined with Work in Paradise
Now I finally understand good old Pablo (Casals) who moved to Puerto Rico when he was 80 years old, got married to a young Puerto Rican and died there 16 years later. OK, I am far from being Casals, and I am not 80 yet, neither have I moved here – but being 4 weeks in a row at the same place has almost got the feel of living here, especially since I did indeed married a young Puerto Rican (14 years ago) and do live right now in the house of her parents. Sure, I knew the island before, but this is the first time that I have had the luxury of spending plenty of time here while having to practise – and it is so much more fun than I thought it would be.I just made it my custom to sit for three hours from 10 until 1 pm after having had a huge cafe con leche and two mangos from the garden on the terrace overlooking all these gorgeous palm trees and the other gigantic rain-forest-like plants while practising away, learning fervently the new piece which today officially entered my brain – I have learnt it by heart at last. One month of practising it more or less every day (with interruptions of travel and laziness) I have accumulated about 60 hours now, and I am so relieved to know it 2 weeks prior to the recordings already. For the first time in my life (!) I am too early with having learned a piece, and it feels great. Maybe it has to do with age, that I become more responsible with deadlines, or just luck that I had 4 weeks off, I don’t know, or maybe it is indeed the good vibes of Puerto Rico, the beach in the afternoon, the crazy pool-games I am playing with my son János, and last but not least the delicious food of my mother-in-law Carmen.