The 2022-2023 season marks the 40th Anniversary of Midori’s professional debut, which took place on New Year’s Eve in 1982 with the New York Philharmonic and Zubin Mehta — when she was just 11 years old.

Most recently, Warner Classics released a new digital recording of the complete Beethoven sonatas cycle with Midori and pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet, which the artists will perform in its entirety at Dartmouth College New Hampshire and Suntory Hall, Tokyo. The album will be out for physical release in January, 2023.

The Violin Channel had a chance to chat with Midori amidst her busy schedule to learn about the project, reminisce on her debut, and discuss what she's excited about in the future.

It has been 40 years since you made your solo debut with the New York Philharmonic in 1982. How did this incredible opportunity come to you?

So just several months before that, I had an opportunity to audition for Zubin Mehta, who was the music director of the New York Philharmonic. Just after a rehearsal with the orchestra, I played a few different things for him. It happened in a rather informal way and didn’t feel like your typical audition session. Then about half a year later, I was given the opportunity to play with the NY Phil. It was all very exciting. 

Do you remember what emotions you were feeling as you were about to take the stage?

There was a realization that I do love to perform. That first step that I take to go out on stage is something always very special. That hasn't changed since that debut. It's a wonderful feeling.

How was the industry changed since your debut? What are the aspects that have remained untouched?

There's definitely a major change that's stemming out of technology — whether it's from booking flights or the business side of things to the whole idea of streaming.

I think the way in which one can get excited about the score has remained constant. What music means to me has also been a steady constant.

What does music mean to you?

I guess it's because of music that I'm able to figure some things out. It's because of music that I was inspired to do certain things. It's because of music that I am who I am today.

"Music is the way in which I make sense of the world."

Why is teaching, passing on your experience, and giving back to the younger generation so important to you?

The basic bottom line is that I love to teach and I don’t do it out of obligation. It’s not just about how to play the instrument, but it's a way of life as well.

But one has to have a very strong sense of responsibility when guiding a younger person. Sharing your experiences and helping the younger generation is not something that you take lightly. 

One must be very, very responsible when working with our future. 

Your newest album, "Beethoven Sonatas for Piano & Violin" with pianist Jean Yves Thibaudet just came out. Can you tell us what inspired you to make these recordings?

The Beethoven sonatas are just nothing short of amazing. First of all, to be able to do the whole cycle has been an incredible experience.

Secondly, the magic of this music is almost in stark contrast to what we know about Beethoven's life.

"Beethoven’s music did so much for us, more than maybe he ever imagined." 

What do you hope listeners will take away with them upon listening to the album?

As an artist, I never have a particular wish for the audience. Each member of the audience is unique. They will hear what they will hear, especially because Beethoven's music has a massively different impact on different people.

How did you keep your motivation during the Covid lockdowns?

It was a difficult time for all of us and I think I learned a lot. At some point, I was quite stressed because I don't call myself a technologically savvy person. 

Despite that, I surprised myself and everyone else by doing so much online. Being online didn't actually scare me away from being active. What kept me motivated was workshops for youth orchestra students and all of my students that had to be taught remotely. The challenge with teaching online was, at that point, most of my students went home and were no longer in the US. Because of the time difference from New York, I had to teach either after 10:00 PM or before 9:00 AM.

Also, when lockdowns first happened, I stayed with my mother thinking that it was going to be around a week and then I’d head back to my apartment. 

It was much longer than a week, clearly. It was really nice though because I got to reconnect with New York. I grew up there but then hadn’t lived there since I moved out to California.

New York was the city that I hadn't known for quite a while, and this allowed me to reconnect with some roots. 

When COVID-19 first hit, everything went online and most concerts were streamed. As an industry, do you think we should be keeping that up now that we are going back in person?

I have to say that being in person is very, very, very special. I love being in person, but I think we can also embrace technology and work with it to make live concerts more meaningful.

You are also so heavily involved in a number of charitable and humanitarian efforts. Can you tell us about these and why they are so personal to you?

I have a number of non-profit organizations that I started with. The first nonprofit I started, Midori & Friends, which brings music to NYC public school children, is celebrating its 30th Anniversary this year!!

Why multiple? It's because a non-profit organization is very structured. Each organization has one mission. 

To follow through on other ideas, and other missions, you have to start another organization or project, so as not to change the ones that are already doing great work. They're all dear to me and they all inspire each other.

What do you still want to achieve in your next 40 years on the stage?

"There's always so much to discover in a piece of music and it doesn't matter how many times you played it." 

I never, ever, ever felt tired of a piece. I'm very much looking forward to discovering more music. I also look forward to working with living composers and working together to bring life to new works. 

Then there are also always young people, and elderly people, who I can always continue to work with. I love it all and am excited about the future!

The post Midori on Her Debut's 40th Anniversary and What's to Come appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

Enter to win a copy, here. Entries close on Tuesday, November 27, 2022.

Where did your love of instruments come from? What is it about instruments that really grabbed you?

I started playing the violin in the fourth grade and quite liked it.  After some time, I was given an old German violin by a friend of my father's and I played that violin for the next 28 years.  In 1960 I entered the University of Chicago where I became concertmaster of the orchestra during my last three years.

Then in my senior year, an alumnus gave the University a Testore violin which, as concertmaster, I was allowed to use that last year.  It was the first time I'd put a decent violin under my chin and I fell in love with it.

Curious about fine violins, I went downtown to the shop of William Lewis and Son --- then the big Chicago dealers --- with that Testore in hand.  I had heard that they sold Strads, so I told a little lie and said “I'm thinking of trading up. I'd like to get a better violin.”  Well, thanks to the Testore, they thought I might be a real customer, so they let me try out a few fine violins; I remember two of them, a Strad and a Guadagnini.  That experience spoiled me immediately and permanently.  For the next 17 years, I dreamed about those violins.

After graduating in 1964, I played in the Hartford Symphony for four years and, in 1970, moved to Ohio.  Then in 1981, a good friend, Bill Sloan, asked me to come with him to the Bein & Fushi shop in Chicago where he was having his Strad adjusted.  While I was waiting for Bill, Robert Bein said, “Why don't you try some of these violins over here?”  So, I played for two or three hours and totally fell in love with a 1698 Petrus of Mantua Guarneri (pictured). Bein suggested I buy it and, of course, I told him it there was no way I could possibly afford it.  But he said I could borrow the fiddle, take it home over the Thanksgiving holiday, enjoy it, and then return it later.  (Try a little of this drug; you can always stop).

Well, needless to say, I shortly found myself down at the bank, taking out a loan to buy the violin … which, by the way, was worth more than my house.  At the time, it cost $120,000.  Today the same fiddle is probably worth 2 million.  I still own and love my “Little Petrus.”

That was the only violin I had for the next 10 years while my business prospered until I had enough money to buy a Strad.

"If someone's interested in buying a Strad, it's known in milliseconds — The violin dealer community is very small."

How do you find the violins that you’ve collected throughout the years?

The answer is: they find you. If a dealer in Chicago hears that there's someone interested in buying a Strad in, say, Australia, it's known in milliseconds in London, Los Angeles, New York, and everywhere else. The violin dealer community is very small.

The first really great violin that I purchased was the 1715 Baron Knoop Strad (pictured), another violin I still have.  It's my favorite violin of all the fiddles I’ve owned.

A few years after buying the Knoop, I heard that Heifetz traveled with a Strad and a del Gesù violin in a double case.

That sounded like a great idea!  So, I decided I really needed a del Gesù and eventually worked out a deal with Bein & Fushi to trade in my Petrus of  Mantua Guarneri for the 1734 Haddock del Gesù.  So, Robert  Bein came to Seattle with the del Gesù ready for the trade-in.  I reached down to take the Petrus of Mantua out of its case to hand it to him.  But I couldn’t do it!

At that point, I knew I was in trouble:  I had become a collector.

"My fixed goal was always to obtain the best instruments possible — even if that meant waiting years."

Are there any purchases you regret? Or mistakes you’ve made as a collector?

I made some mistakes early on. For example, right after buying the Strad, I decided I needed a viola. I bought one that was not quite up to the standards of the other instruments I owned and sold it a year later.

You learn patience. The kind of instruments I wanted became available only occasionally, often when the current owner died or got too old to play.  I was frequently presented with lesser violins, instruments that I didn't care for.  But my fixed goal was always to obtain, not the most, but the best instruments possible... even if that meant waiting years.

How do you decide which instruments to purchase; is there a set of criteria that you look for?

I think that if you're trying to collect instruments and can afford them, the most secure investments are famous instruments:  the ones that are in all the books and that everyone knows.  This eliminates problems of authenticity and makes the instruments more saleable.  I always wanted instruments that were beyond question.

"First of all, a Strad is a Strad. It's not going to lose its value."

Did you look at your instruments as investments?

At the time, I didn't look at them as investments.  I viewed them as quality-of-life expenditures, pure consumption.  I fell in love with the instruments themselves, their history, their beauty, and the incredible sounds that people could make with them... sounds that I could make with them.  It was pure green-eyed craving and lust.

I collected violins for 40 years and have now sold most of the collection.   While writing my book, I worked out the internal rate of return on the whole investment, from the first violin purchased to the last one sold. The internal rate of return on the entire investment, 40 years of buying and selling, was just over five and a half percent.  Not a windfall; rather like the return on a house.

Some people think that you can make a lot of money buying then quickly selling violins, what realtors call “flipping.”  True, it is sometimes possible to buy an instrument and then sell it a year later for some big number, but you can also win money in a lottery or in Las Vegas... if you’re lucky.

The idea of buying violins solely as an investment is, in my opinion, stupid unless you intend to love and enjoy them.  Buy stocks and bonds instead.  I would not recommend violins as an investment with any expectation of quick return. That’s very problematic.

"I fell in love with the instruments themselves, their history, their beauty, and the incredible sounds that people could make with them."

What would you say are the advantages of purchasing instruments like yours?

First of all, a Strad is a Strad. It's not going to lose its value.

Second, you can sell violins in international markets and they cross international borders easily.   That’s hard to do with, say, real estate.  Also, there were musicians during the Nazi era who managed to get their fine instruments out of Germany.  Those instruments helped finance the creation of new lives for themselves.

But the biggest advantage of collecting great instruments is that you get to play and enjoy them.  Thanks to the collection, I was able to meet the majority of the world's working concert artists.  I heard them play in my living room, I played chamber music with some of them, and I listened to how they sounded on my instruments.  I was able to observe how they approached the instruments.  It’s hard to assign a monetary value to that kind of experience.

Some of these artists have become dear friends.  Perlman, Spivakov, Bell, Midori, Shaham, Sitkovetsky, and Stern have all visited our home.  Stern once gave me a violin lesson.  (I was not an outstanding pupil.)  I’ve known James Ehnes since he was a teenager and helped him obtain his violin.

There are so many indelible memories from those collection years.  For instance, there was the evening Oscar Shumsky played chamber music in my living room with three members of the old NBC Symphony.  And then afterward, he took one of my del Gesùs and a Tourte and entertained us for some 45 minutes.  He played the Bach Chaconne then tossed off several of those nearly impossible Ysaÿe solo sonatas.  About those he said, “People take the Ysaÿe sonatas too seriously. They’re just Viennese bon bons!”  (In his hands only.)

Why did you sell your treasured collection? 

At the collection’s peak, I had 28 great instruments and something like 45 bows, mostly Tourtes and Peccattes. There were 7 Strads, 7 del Gesùs, Amati, Bergonzi, Gasparo, etc.  So why sell the collection?

There came a point where a visiting violinist would have too many options. I wasn't running a museum. I collected because I loved the music, I loved the instruments and I liked meeting and playing with the musicians.  But eventually, it became just too big a meal for a visiting artist to digest in an afternoon, too many instruments, too many bows.

Another factor is what I call the “wallflower effect.” If you came to visit, you’d want to play the supreme, ultra-famous violins: Lord Wilton, King Joseph, Baron Knoop, etc.  The others, all perfectly wonderful violins, would be left alone, untouched, wallflowers.  This seemed to me a pity, maybe a bit unlucky.

And then, you reach a dead-end collecting.  If you’ve bought the La Pucelle Strad, perhaps the finest Strad, the Lord Wilton (pictured) and King Joseph, supreme del Gesùs, the Bass of Spain Strad cello, the greatest cello on earth, the greatest viola, etc. you’ve arrived at the top.  Where do you go next?  You’ve run out of things to collect.  Yes, you could buy more, but there is nothing better to buy.

Then, there are practical factors. For one thing, you can't take your collection with you.  Posthumous collecting is not possible.

Also, you absolutely do not want to die with your collection intact.  The violin market is not elastic. If you try to sell 28 superb instruments quickly, you’ll realize only a fraction of their value.

And then you have taxes.  The US estate tax law is such that, if you died with a big collection intact, it could create a huge tax problem.  The IRS would obtain an appraisal, an honest appraisal. (They accept valuations only from IRS authorized appraisers, of which there are only two in the entire United States.)  Then they would assess tax of something like 40% of that appraised value (plus 20% if you live in Washington state) and insist that the tax be paid within six months.  This could force a ruinous bargain-basement instrument sale, not to mention draining liquid assets from an estate just to pay the taxes.

Around 2005, my wife, Amy, and I decided that we would sell all but the very best things on an opportunistic basis.  Over a period of 13 years, we did sell quite a few instruments, but we held onto the very, very best.

Then in late 2018, we decided to disperse the rest.  We gave most of the remaining instruments to our charitable foundation and the foundation then sold them.  The money will be used for charitable purposes.  We thought this was an excellent outcome for our beloved collection.  We loved and enjoyed having it and now we’ll have the fun of giving away the money created by its sale to worthy causes.

All that’s left are three violins, one viola, and three bows.  That’s quite enough at this point.

Where did the idea for the Fulton Collection book come from? How did you go about putting it all together?

At some point, I looked back and realized the peak of my collection had been 20 years ago.  That’s a long time in a human life.  My memory of the reality of owning the collection was becoming insubstantial, dreamlike, almost like it happened to somebody else.

But building and owning the collection was truly a remarkable experience; it deserved to be memorialized.  I had actually met, socialized with, and played music with Bell, Shumsky, Shaham, Mörk, Harrell, Ehnes, Stern and so many others.  I had made a journey, with a few bumps to be sure, but with tons of exhilaration and joy along the way.  I thought people might find an account of that journey interesting.

Simultaneously, I had several months of idleness enforced by COVID. But I’d had a head start: quite a bit of the book had been written along the way and I had already taken good instrument photographs over a period of years.

It was my wife, Amy, who came up with the brilliant and novel idea of using the instruments, in the order I bought them, as the framework upon which to hang the story of my journey as a collector.  I hoped that people will want to come along with me on what has been a fascinating and exciting journey.

Writing the book was fun.  I hope it’s fun to read too.

The post Instrument Collector David Fulton: "My Instrument Journey" appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

A prolific performer and recording artist, she has released 21 feature albums on Decca, Deutsche Grammophon, and Sony have all opened in the top ten of the Billboard charts.

Committed to sharing her experiences with a global community, Her Instagram-based practice initiative, #100daysofpractice, has built a global community around a process that is often isolating.

The Violin Channel sat down with Hilary Hahn to discuss her recent Musical America honor, her practice philosophy, what new projects she is excited about, and more.

How have you managed to keep your motivation and connection with your audiences during Covid-19 and the past few seasons?

Covid is still happening and for a lot of people, it's still on their minds. When Covid hit, however, I was an audience member. I wasn't performing for at least the first six months. For me, a lot of the streaming concerts and events  I got to watch were super important for keeping me connected.

What do you think is the role of the audience member in a concert — either in-person or online?

I've always believed that the audience is a part of the interpretation. The piece doesn't have sound until someone is playing it, but it doesn't have all the different individual meanings until an audience hears it. In other words, it doesn't exist in a vacuum.

It’s really beautiful to have access to the audience's feelings and have the responsibility to take care of them. I think one thing music can do is help you process emotions that you might not process on your own. It may even help redefine what the feeling is and move forward to the next thing. It's definitely an emotional connection.

As opposed to at the beginning of your career, what do you feel it takes to have a successful music career today?

I think that something that is not often pointed out while people are studying is the personality types and lifestyles that are needed.

The past couple of years were different in that the colleagues that didn't ever stop, were forced to stop and become a lot more mellow. They learned how to just be, and then brought that mellow wisdom back to the stage. Other people went through some tough things and they bring that depth of emotion to the stage.

Aside from that though, there are definitely personality traits that blend better with certain careers than others. For example, some people really like a steady community, a routine, etc. They want to be somewhat more grounded in a location or a certain group of family or friends. That's not something that a solo life necessarily provides. However, there are careers in which you can really build a community around music — such as orchestra gigs, chamber groups, teaching, or administration, for example.

But other people like constant change, space, and time alone to process things and daydream. They also might like to have a lot of friends around the world that they see. That latter personality type is me, so I'm really well suited to this lifestyle.

You are so often traveling for performances, how do you balance this with your personal life? How does Hilary Hahn relax?

It's a little bit all mixed together. The overarching theme of the downtime is to follow a whim. So if it's that I want to watch reality tv, or if I'm on a kick where I'm taking walks in every city I go to, or I'm buried in a podcast or reading a book — I have these little arcs of hobbies.

Since everything else is long-term and big-scale, it's nice to just have a fleeting idea and go with it for a day or two, or a week, or a month.

What was the inspiration behind the #100daysofpractice?

A few years ago, it was actually a visual art project on Instagram that I happened to observe. This illustrator was taking part in it and I was like, ‘Oh, this seems really interesting.’

I love visual art and I love the idea, but I didn’t think I could draw for a hundred days. So I wondered how I could apply it to music?

The project suggested that you make up your own hashtag and that it be about the process and not the final result. With visual art on Instagram, you always see the final result and it leads to more intense self-criticism.

Similarly, my results are always out there, so I didn't feel weird at all about sharing the practice process. I didn't actually think anything of it and I thought people would be bored. But then, I started reading the comments, and people found it helpful.

What is your practicing philosophy?

From the #100daysofpractice, I realized that practice is such a taboo. A caveat is that a few teachers do teach their students how to practice and really work with them on the process. But for the most part, practice is like going into a room, looking in a mirror, picking out everything you don't like about yourself, trying to change it without any tools, and then showing up fixed.

I think it's better to follow what I've wound up thinking of practice as, which is this sort of ongoing experiment where the pressure is off. That's your free place to find your zone. You can't force results that aren't going to come, but you can experiment and free your brain to find new solutions and think about things a different way. I think it’s a longer-term solution and it's better for your longevity as an artist. It increases your creativity and helps stop that negative cycle of self-criticism.

With visual art, my guess is that you're constantly seeing what you did and questioning it, but you at least see what you did and what you left last night is there in the morning.

With practice though, you're on your own and it’s always fleeting. You can't stop and examine it because it stops the second you stop playing. You don't know what you retained and you feel like you forgot everything.

With #100daysofpractice, it’s helpful to know that everyone has that. I think that sense of community is really helpful.

Recently, what has excited you musically? What are some unique initiatives you’re involved in right now?

I recently released the album, "Eclipse," which is for me, an arrival and a re-energizing event in my life. It’s at the same time the spark and the bonfire all at once.

It was great to create a project with colleagues and friends that you have a long history with. Also, at this point with my albums, I chart my own artistic evolution through them — so each one is a marker along the way.

As far as other projects, I think an overall concept I'm trying to encourage people in the field to keep up with is the accessibility of concerts. One positive thing that happened during the lockdowns was all the content that was created online and all the concerts that were streamed.

I've heard from a lot of people who don't normally have easy access to the concert hall for various reasons, and they've said they finally got the same experience as everyone else. So as we return to the concert hall, we have to also remember that we may be removing some of those experiences from people.

I think online content shouldn’t be a sort of shadow of what you experience in person. Rather. it should be created especially for the online space. I had a world premiere of  “Isolation Variation” during lockdowns, and it was a global premier. People signed in all different time zones, all at the same time. Since it was prerecorded, I was able to be in the chat room when it was premiering and that was a lot of fun.

What does winning the Musical America “Artist of the Year" mean to you?

It's super exciting because I grew up with the Musical America Printed Directory in my house. It’s this tall magazine that all the managers and presenters had, with all the industry information in it. Every year on the cover was the “Artist of the year.”

You have a lot of dreams as a kid, it just somehow didn't occur to me. It was always the really big career artists and sometimes you just kind of bypass imagining something for yourself. So when I heard that I was going to be Artist of the Year, I had one of those flashback moments, and it all came full circle.

I feel really honored! Now that I'm back on the road, the momentum can be a lot, so it's nice to be encouraged to stop and look back, look forward, and be in the same place all at once. It can feel like you’re chasing the next thing, and sometimes you also have to acknowledge the beautiful moments where you have actually arrived.

And then, tomorrow, you can plan your next thing.

It’s funny because Jesse Montgomery is Composer of the Year and we're both artists-in-residents at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. In our group chat, the last thing in there is a selfie we took in the dressing room together! The picture was a premonition!

Also, lots of colleagues of mine have been named Artists of the Year in recent years, so it reminds you of what you're connected to.

If you have to give a piece of advice to young performers working towards a solo career, what would it be?

This might sound useless, but I could tell you from my forties, this is useful. I think young musicians spend a lot of time trying to become more like their idols or role models. Once you finally feel like a more mature musician, you realize what your own musical instincts are and try to be as true to those as possible.

My advice is to bypass all those phases in between and start identifying what your musical instincts are just in the moment. It makes it so much more fun to play. Whether by yourself or on stage or with other musicians, try to really be true to your enjoyment of the music.

For example, where do you feel like a note should be longer? Maybe in an ensemble, you can't hold it, but in practice, you can. Then, as soon as you transition from the moment where you didn't want to leave it to one where you want to move on, you'll find that your interpretive impetus is totally different. It's almost like you cleared something out and now you're free to move. There's this push and pull that you'll realize naturally happens within yourself.

I think just knowing that makes you a truer, more authentic musician. That can apply to everything: how you do your social media, how you schedule yourself, the people you work with, etc

My other piece of advice is to try to balance care and compassion for others with care and compassion for yourself.

Even as a student, instead of looking at the teacher's input as either something to agree with or disagree with, it can be a both/and situation.

You balance others' input and your feelings in your professional life too. That’s why it's good to start identifying your instincts as soon as you can because it's a lifelong practice.

The post Hilary Hahn — Practice, Performing, and Staying True to Your Artistic Instincts appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

Presented by the Guadagnini Foundation, the second edition of the Stuttgart International Violin Competition will be held from February 19-24, 2024 in Germany — direct from the Concert Hall of the Staatliche Hochschule für Musik und Darstellende Kunst (HMDK) and the Beethoven Hall of the Liederhalle Stuttgart. The competition's applications are open until February 1, 2023.

Its jury will include violinist Josef Rissin, who we were fortunate to talk to about his career and experience with the competition.

Violin Channel: What are some lessons you have learned in your 40 years of performing, teaching, and judging at international competitions

Josef Rissin: Thank you for your question! I am happy to answer it, contrary to my actual way of deliberately staying away from the media, in the context of the world's newest international violin competition in Stuttgart.

The competition of the Guadagnini Foundation has been characterized by an astonishing professionalism from day one, run with a passion inspired by the idea of supporting top international talent on their career path, concentrating fully on the music and individual talents, and subordinating everything to these guiding principles. The competition has therefore immediately gained recognition in the professional world.

This competition applies the philosophy that has always shaped me and my work. So if you ask about my experiences from 40 years of concert activity and by that maybe you mean the secret of personal success combined with the question of the essence of 40 years of jury work in order to be able to deduce what young talents should develop to reach success, then here it is:

The philosophy of working through each composition step by step, internalizing it, understanding it, with all its facets, all its depths, all its wisdom, with the life that lives within it.

This honest approach, this authenticity, this comprehensive and professional focus on the essentials is ultimately what I personally always imposed on myself and what I have taught many highly talented students as well as leading contemporary violinists such as Sergey Khachatryan and Daniel Lozakovich. I would like to emphasize that successful participation in a competition involves perfect mastery of the violin technique, which is something you have to work on throughout your life. Only then can you try to convey your musical ideas, interpretations, and even messages.

To put it more figuratively, when a violinist can convey his own voice through his instrument, when he manages to convincingly express his emotions through playing from the understanding of the composer and the depth of his music, without rehearsed gimmickry, without putting a show but using his intellect and exclusive focus on what he wants to say musically to us, the audience or the jury, then this is what fascinates the audience and what we, the jury, want to award. The educational path should be subordinate to this goal, step by step, along a stable, well-rounded education.

-Josef Rissin

Born in Riga, Josef Rissin studied violin with Boris Belenkij at the Moscow Tchaikovsky Conservatory and is considered by many critics to be one of the world’s leading violinists. Whilst a student, he won prizes at the Queen Elizabeth Competition in Brussels and the Paganini Competition in Genoa.

His concert activities have taken him to the music capitals of the former Soviet Union and throughout the West, and his performances and CDs have contributed to the interpretation of the classical Russian repertoire of the present day, alongside avant-garde Russian music. His CDs of solo pieces by Hindemith, Ysaÿe, and Paganini earned great critical acclaim.

Prof. Rissin leads violin classes at the University of Music Karlsruhe and at the University of Music and Theatre Zürich. His most famous pupils include Serge Khachatryan, Daniel Lozakovich, Prof. Maria-Elisabeth Lott, Prof. Koh-Gabriel Kameda, Prof. Albrecht Laurent Breuninger, Prof. Linus Roth, etc.

The post Professor Josef Rissin — Lessons He's Learned from a 40+ Year Career appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

Violin Channel: All three of you are Canadian musicians living in New York City. Can you describe why you made the decision to live here, and what it is about New York City that makes you call it home?

Adrienne Lloyd: Since the very first time I visited New York, I’ve wanted to live here. It sounds like a romantic exaggeration or something, but I honestly believe I live in the cultural capital of the world. It’s actually hard for me to imagine the same kind of opportunities for musicians of all genres existing anywhere else.

Lara St John: I always knew, even as a child, that all roads lead to New York. I was close by in Philadelphia for a few difficult  years in the 80s yet I always saw it as the city of cities. I had to leave the general area for a few years when I was 17 (Soviet Union, England) and then came back at 20. Nothing else made sense at that time, and I’ve had my home base here ever since!

Aisslinn Nosky: I was born in the town of Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, on the west coast of Canada. I think, because of that, I have always been fascinated by Islands. Sometimes I joke, I’ve spent my life migrating towards the Island of Manhattan from my first island off the coast of Canada. I went to school in Toronto and managed to get my first orchestral jobs there (first with the Canadian Opera Company and later with Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra). For over twenty years I made Toronto my home and had many wonderful experiences there. During those years I had many opportunities to visit New York CIty and eventually I started to feel a really strong pull towards New York to pursue further professional opportunities. I moved here in 2017 and I am loving every minute of it.

VC: Particularly since the Russo-Ukranian war, there have been many conversations in the performing arts around how people’s ethnic and national identities are tied to who they are, and how they express themselves as artists.

How do your Canadian identities inform and impact who you are as performers? Are there any tensions or conflicts that come up being a performer “from abroad”?

AN: I am extremely proud of being Canadian. I am very aware that my early training in music was afforded to me because of having had the good fortune to be born in a very special part of the world. The excellent training and opportunities I received growing up in the great white north have always motivated me to try to be the best ambassador for Canada possible, no matter where in the world I am performing.

LSJ: I still identify as very Canadian.  Although I am now a dual citizen, and I certainly appreciate being able to vote in my adopted country, I represent Canada wherever I go, and I’m proud to do so. I’m also recently a member of the Order of Canada - imagine that!

AL: I think growing up, musically speaking, and playing as part of a great community in Toronto very much influenced my identity as a musician here. I also think the rise of Toronto indie-labels helped me realize the importance of exposure in the US market.

There was some incredible and important music happening around me when I last lived in Toronto, with major superstars like Drake and The Weeknd just starting their music careers on the Toronto scene. But I think the depth of Toronto’s music scene at that time can also be seen with bands like Death From Above 1979, Metric, Austra and the whole community around Broken Social Scene..

There is a great pride that comes with being a Canadian musician, both in the US and overseas. Somebody once told me there are no greater ambassadors of Canada than those that live abroad, and I think Canadian musicians are no exception.

VC: How do you find the musical institutions, such as orchestras and festivals, different between the two countries?

LSJ: I once wrote a post begging the Canadian government to take a page out of the American idea of philanthropy. In the US, donations to the arts are always nearly or completely tax-free, creating a huge incentive for giving to one’s favourite art form. In Canada they still tax donations to orchestras or festivals, so the idea is: well, I pay higher taxes for everything (true) so why should I give this orchestra money when half goes to the government? Let them take care of it.

Which it does to an extent. The Canada Council, which serves a population of 33 million people, is roughly the same as the NE for 330 million. However, take a look at, say, the NY Philharmonic program (donors start at 1M USD) and the more or less equivalent - the Toronto Symphony, where even corporate donors start at just 50K Canadian.

Canadians cannot learn philanthropy without incentive, and I’ve been saying it for years. I also wouldn’t give my money to a treasured institution if I knew they were only going to get half. In this case I feel like Canada gets it a bit wrong.

AL:  I definitely agree with Lara on this topic. When I was living in Canada, I was fortunate to be the recipient of many grants provided on a federal and provincial level for musicians, but I totally agree with Lara in that Canadians need to reevaluate their systems of philanthropy. In Canada, a real dependency on the government for supporting artists exists, but I think all arts organizations can learn from the US model that utilizes multiple systems of funding, like private funding, government support, and endowments.

VC: The COVID-19 pandemic had a devastating impact on America’s arts sector, and the National Endowment for the Arts reports that the overall unemployment rate for artists is still twice what it was pre-pandemic.

How did you spend your time during the pandemic? What is the impact, negative and positive, that you are seeing on the projects you are involved with?

LSJ: I created a piano-free chamber music series for six months from January to June 2021 which would never have happened without Covid, but it worked because of a great space which became empty, and some fund-raising to help artists in tough times.  We had amazing groups and artists, like the Imani Winds, Brentano Quartet, Xavier Foley, Ulysses Quartet, Augustin Hadelich, PubliQuartet, Sybarite5 and more. I also recorded a new album of solo violin works in that space (she/her/hers)

I somehow also decided to learn Cuban foot percussion, which absolutely would not have been a thing sans Covid. But now, I can clave and cascara with my feet and simultaneously play violin. I’m inordinately wackily proud of that.

AN: It was extremely busy pre-pandemic for me with lots of travel and concerts. The shut down of NYC for the pandemic afforded me the unexpected opportunity to spend an entire year in my neighbourhood on the upper west side. I had the opportunity to see the four seasons of New York in Riverside Park. I also spent a lot of time during the pandemic making digital content for and with the Handel and Haydn Society in Boston. Another unexpected bright side of having to cancel live performances was that I was able to find more time to connect with patrons and donors. Of course it was from a distance! But, having the time for more long form conversations was really interesting for me. I always enjoy speaking to patrons but often at concerts, my performing duties prevent me from  spending as much time as I want to with chatting with people.

AL: I had a similar experience to Aisslinn where the time just before the pandemic felt incredibly busy, and then in March of 2020 as New York City went on total lock down, it created an opportunity to shift that pace. I feel really fortunate to have been able to adapt in terms of teaching and collaborating with other musicians in new, online ways during that time, but I also found that period to be a really important time for me in terms of songwriting.

Once the lock-down in New York was lifted, I remember traveling to the venue where Lara held her chamber music series for a “socially-distanced” recording project she was working on for Child USA. It was the first time I had played music with other people in-person in months, and I can’t even describe how meaningful and important that moment was for me. In the past year I’ve had many gigs canceled or rescheduled because of Covid-related factors, but one thing that stands out above all these disappointments is how much people are craving and supporting live performances again. My sense, at least here in New York, is that there is an even greater appreciation for music and the contributions that musicians make.

VC: Aisslinn, you spent many years performing in Tafelmusik with the late great baroque violinist Jeanne Lamon, and later in October you’re returning to Toronto to lead the orchestra from the chair that Music Director Lamon held for 33 years.

What has been the role of mentorship, specifically female mentorship, in your careers? And do you currently consider yourself a mentor to other musicians?

AN: I did have the honor of working with the late, great Jeanne Lamon. Jeanne bestowed many gifts upon me, perhaps none bigger than quietly and confidently demonstrating strong, dynamic and caring leadership at every moment. Jeanne’s abilities were so great and so varied that it’s difficult for me to distill what was so special about working with and for her. But, one thing does stand out in my mind right now and I will say that Jeanne, in my opinion, always did her best to put the considerations of the music before anything else. The music came first. I always deeply respected her willingness to serve the music. I believe that’s one reason her performances were so dynamic and deeply meaningful. I could not be where I am today if not for great leaders like Jeanne Lamon.

VC: Adrienne, as someone who has been actively involved in both the classical and rock music communities, do you feel like you’ve seen a greater shift in representation in one genre over another?

AL: I once read that only 11% of professional double bass players are women. I’m sure there are many, many factors informing this statistical imbalance, but it is definitely true that I never had any female bass teachers as a child, and it was really rare to see a female bass player perform or on a recording.

I do believe in the importance of mentorship and take my teaching activities and songwriting collaborations with other female musicians incredibly seriously. This spring I’m recording an album for one of my groups with a female producer for the first time in my career. I can’t say for sure if there’s a greater shift in one particular genre of music, but I am happy and proud to be a part of any shift that creates more opportunities for young women to feel like they can be leaders in all areas and levels of the music industry.

VC: A recent study by the Donne Foundation looking at the world’s top orchestras found that only 5% of the music programmed in their concerts is composed by women. In great contrast to this data, Lara, your most upcoming album she/her/hers for solo violin features music entirely by female composers.

As women in the music industry, what do you think needs to happen to make a meaningful and lasting change that ensures an equality of access for future female performers, composers, and leaders?

AN: I think that we need to make sure that women are as fully supported as possible in their pursuit of a career in music. I specialize in 18th and 19th century music and so during the pandemic I spent time during the pandemic looking for composers from that time who may have been overlooked because of the societal limitations women experienced at that time. Lousie Farrenc, Jane Mary Guest and Marianna Martines are just a few names of composers who I think have been unjustly neglected in what we think of as the classical music canon and I am programming their music as much as possible. It’s been so interesting to get to know their music!

LSJ: And, I tend to go a bit RBG here - sure, my latest album is entirely by female composers, but I’ve done lots of albums entirely by male composers, and that was seen as not unusual, of course. We have precious few women composers from the supposed “height” of “European Art Music '' because they were actively discouraged from having ideas of their own at that time (and frankly, they still are, just less overtly). Therefore, my album is from the last 100 years or so, and they are mostly living composers, each one of which I felt confident and glad to represent. May they become far more numerous.

AL: I spent many years touring with an all-female band, and it always felt a bit surprising to people, especially other music industry types, that we were not just a female-fronted group, but also running the business side of our band, playing our instruments, writing our own songs, carrying our own gear, and driving ourselves from city to city.

Lara is the owner of her own record label, Ancalagon Records, and Aisslinn leads ensembles around the world, but this still feels pretty exceptional to me. I think we have a long way to go in terms of gender equality at the top levels of the music industry, but I am incredibly proud to be in the company of performers like Aisslinn and Lara who are making real change in terms of visibility and opportunities for women.

The post An Inside Look at 3 Canadian Musicians in New York appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

I started playing the violin at a young age as a pastime. My father always wished for me to learn the violin, an instrument he liked very much. He never expected that I would become a professional violinist. When I was about 4 years old, my parents took me to the Children’s Palace in Chengdu, China — a public center that offered extracurricular activity classes for children in music, sports, crafts, and languages, among others.

Unfortunately, I was deemed “not physically suitable” and not accepted as a violin student due to my shorter pinky. However, I was very lucky to meet Mr. Wen Youxin shortly after, and he took me in as his student, assuring that a shorter pinky would not prohibit me from learning the violin. 

Tell us about your early violin training and what made you decide to pursue a professional career in music?

I started violin with the Suzuki method and all classes were taught in groups of 13-14 students. I studied with Mr. Wen Youxin for around seven years, and it wasn’t until I was in Primary 5 that I got more serious with violin. At that same time, my parents and I had a conversation about chosing to further pursue music or academic studies. My academic grades were average, and after seeing my older cousins having to do so much academic work in high school, I knew that violin would be my choice. My parents supported my decision as I continued my studies in violin at the High School affiliated with the Sichuan Conservatory of Music studying with the famous Chinese violin pedagogue, Mr. Hu Weimin, father of well-known Chinese violinist, Mr. Hu Kun. 

It was an eye-opening experience to study at the conservatory under Mr. Hu Weimin, as I was surrounded by an environment with peers and teachers who value music at the highest level. I was so determined to learn and improve on the violin that it came to a point where my teacher had to tell me to slow down on my progress. One year before graduating high school at the Sichuan Conservatory, I was recommended to continue studies with my teacher’s son, Mr. Hu Kun, who was then offered the position as violin professor at the Royal Academy of Music in London. Thankfully, I was given a full scholarship to study in London, if not for that, my parents would not have been able to afford to send me abroad.

How was life like studying abroad?

Oh dear, the first 1.5 years in London were probably the most difficult time of my life! I had not set foot outside of China before that, so everything was new and foreign to me. I moved to London alone at the age of 17 and experienced a completely new environment, culture, food, and language. Even the schooling system is different from what I experienced in China!

My teacher at RAM, Mr. Hu Kun, was a very inspiring figure to me. He was the first Chinese violinist to win a prize in a major violin competition — the 1980 Sibelius International Violin Competition. His teaching style was meticulous. I vividly remember a lesson where we spent 1.5 hours on intonation in the exposition of the Schubert Sonatina! It was definitely a learning curve living and studying in London. Torturing at first, but I treasure the experience deeply!

What were your parents’ expectations after you chose to pursue music seriously?

I am not an ambitious person, but my philosophy is to try and do my best with no regrets. I was very lucky to be playing the violin without any kind of extreme family pressure. My father always said, “I don’t expect you to be the best, but I only ask for you to not learn badly.” Thankfully for my parents’ support, I am able to do what I do today as a violinist and teacher.

During your conservatory days, you participated in a number of major international competitions, including the 2005 Michael Hill and 2006 Paganini Competitions. Can you talk us through some of your experiences?

When I was studying in London, my teacher encouraged me to enter competitions mainly to challenge myself and gain experience performing. Competitions gave me exposure as a young violinist. As my schoolwork was not too demanding, competitions kept me busy. Another important reason for my active participation in competitions was because the prize money supported my living expenses abroad. At that time, my parents’ monthly salary was equal to a month’s rent for me in London.

Competitions serve as a training platform for musicians. It allowed me to study large amounts of the violin repertoire, from solo pieces to concertos. I also got to perform for jury members who are industry experts and compete side-by-side with the top violinists in my age group. I have been really fortunate to compete at major violin competitions and regardless of the results, I always learn from every experience.

Competitions, in general, are an interesting subject for performing musicians. Unlike examinations where teachers grade your performance and growth, you are now faced with a panel of esteemed jury members foreign to you whose job is to find the flaws in your playing. I was very lucky to achieve good results at some competitions I participated in, among many others that I participated in and did not achieve any prize. For every competition round, my main priority is to first play well and treat it as a new performance opportunity. I like to echo the phrase said by the character “Oogway” from the movie “Kung Fu Panda”: “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift! That is why it is called the present.”

In recent years, you have served as a jury member for several prominent competitions. What have you learned as a jury member and what advice do you have for candidates in competitions?

Having once been on the stage as a competitor, being a jury member now is like being on the other end of the story. There are usually at least 6-7 jury members in a competition, and everyone has their own musical taste. It is interesting, as competition jury members nowadays not only include professional musicians, but also industry experts in music business and arts administration.

If I were to give any advice to candidates in competitions, it would be to never try to impress or imitate a certain jury in your playing. Just like how we each have personal preferences to taste and cuisine, the music that you play needs to feel natural and the interpretation convinces you. There is no way of controlling other people’s tastes, so the most important thing is to believe in yourself and play from your heart!

With the Covid-19 pandemic, in your opinion, what is the future of music competitions?

The pandemic has taught us many important lessons. One thing for sure is that concerts and competitions will always be there, even though many have adopted online models. I think online competitions during the pandemic opened doors to a greater international candidate pool. With no need to travel, students and parents may feel more inclined to participate in these competitions. However, in my opinion, this method does lack the live electricity we feel when someone plays onstage with an audience. It is inevitable that some competitions may continue to opt for the online method even after the pandemic, and technology just keeps improving as we speak!

It is difficult to say when musical activities will return to normalcy, but I think this period of waiting will inspire many of us to return to the stage and perform again! I do miss the concert hall and performing in front of a live audience, bringing the joy of music to others as music brings me joy!

The post VC INTERVIEW | Violinist Ning Feng — "My Violin Journey" appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

Oh my god. I don't know. I have to be honest, it doesn't feel any different. I don't feel older. I don't feel different in any way. But in a way, it's a lovely, lovely feeling. I have been sorting out all kinds of lovely cards and letters from colleagues, former students, and friends from all over the globe. It's a very, very nice feeling that I might have made a difference in some people's lives.

Wonderful. How are you celebrating?

We are spending the day with my daughter Jennifer who is married to the cellist Paul Watkins. They live in Birmingham NY, which is 40 minutes from the city. It's just a family thing — we are going to grill some good steaks, have some great wine, and open a great bottle of champagne. I couldn't think of a nicer way to do it.

Can you tell us about your mentors throughout your career and how each has helped get you to where you are today?

Well, there are a few people that I  can definitely say had a tremendous impact on my life musically. Joseph Gingold and Ivan Galamian were both my violin teachers. Then after that, definitely Pablo Casals, Rudolf Serkin, and Issac Stern. If you were to absolutely insist to pinpoint me to one person, it would probably have to be Casals. I think that he is the greatest influence that I have had. Because honestly, to this day, I don't think a day goes by when I'm playing or thinking about music, that I don't think about him and what he would have said and done.

What would you consider to be the major milestones of your career to date?

Well, I think winning the Queen Elizabeth competition when I was just about to turn eighteen. That without a doubt, launched my career. Also, I would say without a doubt that the second would be the first summer that I spent at the Marlboro Music Festival. I think that Marlboro is the place where I started to work with some of the people that I just mentioned (Casals, Serkin). It really made me the musician that I am today.

What advice would you have for the younger generation, especially given the year we have just gone through?

Oh, my God. It's the worst year we have all been through. But I have to say one thing. What certainly has saved our lives this year, Sharon's and mine, has been teaching. We are very grateful to our school, the Cleveland Institute of Music, that made it possible to teach in person. That has been just incredible.

What I've learned is that the kids today are so different than the kind that I was growing up with as a student. They are so much more resourceful, they're so much more innovative. It's amazing what the kids have done on their own, to make it possible for them to really survive.    

How have you navigated the pandemic, especially with your teaching at CIM?

Well, it's been the strangest year because there were no concerts for a while. But we have done livestream initiatives, and a couple of them had people in the audience. The lack of as many concerts also allowed us to make use of the time to do other things. I spent a lot of energy and time teaching, plus going back to playing pieces that I hadn't played in many years. This horrible year has definitely had its very bright moments.

Tell us about your long association with CIM.

It actually isn't that long. I started teaching there nine years ago. But those nine years have been absolutely wonderful. It has wonderful students and wonderful colleagues to play with in small ensembles. It has a family atmosphere.

Living in Cleveland has taken me back in many ways to my childhood because, when I was twelve years old, I lived in Cleveland and studied with Joseph Gingold, concertmaster of the Cleveland Orchestra. That was the year when I first met George Szell, another person that was very important in my life. He not only played as a violin soloist, but he would also spend many, many hours working with me, playing through sonatas, and really teaching me. Somehow going back to Cleveland has brought back a lot of memories. The most amazing, ironic thing is that the house where we live is exactly three doors down from the house where George Szell lived.

Your musical career has been so diverse and so impressive. You have collaborated with many of the world's greatest musicians, as well as trained some of the finest violinists performing today. Are there any special moments for you that stand out above the rest?

Too many frankly to mention. I just feel very lucky and blessed that I've been able to have such a varied career and the ability to do so many things. I feel that I've been able to have my cake and eat it too. I'm very fortunate.

One final question. What are you most looking forward to between now and next year's birthday?

Well, I'm really looking forward to what I hope will be getting back to some kind of normal, concert life. I still don't have anything really scheduled for the rest of this summer and fall. But, we do have a lot of concerts starting in January. I'm just praying that these are all going to happen.

Actually, the first thing that I have is returning to Carnegie Hall with the New York String Orchestra. This year will be a little bit smaller because we're only going to be doing one concert instead of two. Hopefully, by next year, we'll be totally back to normal. I really can't wait for life to return to normal.

Wonderful. Thank you so much for your time and we hope you have a fantastic birthday!

The post VC INTERVIEW | Happy 80th Birthday, Jaime Laredo! appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

Every time I'm asked about how a competition has affected me, I must say, I'm a little paralyzed when it comes to answering the question. I guess the best I can do is to give the most truthful answer as it comes to me in the moment!

For that competition, I ended up originally being on the reserve list, so it wasn't until a few weeks before the event that I was notified that a candidate had canceled and that I had a place to compete. One does the best one can in his/her own circumstances to prepare the best for the event. I think my father was visiting me in Germany at the time, so I do have some memories of both of us squished in my tiny student dormitory (then in Nuernberg), and him having to put up with my noise and the bitter cold of a European winter.

To make a long story short, I arrived in Oslo and the volcano Eyjafjallajökull (no idea how to pronounce that) erupted, which quickly became a major problem. Lots of the competitors were stranded in airports, unable to fly due to this unexpected turn of events. I believe one competitor arrived just a few hours before his first-round performance, played phenomenally, then went on to win the whole competition. Being one of the few that arrived early, I was whisked to the office to translate instructions over the phone to anxious Korean mothers who were escorting some of the junior candidates.

Somehow, this phenomenon resulted in an interesting atmosphere. I had done a few of these events in the past, but it wasn't actually that often that you went to a competition and were genuinely happy to see your fellow competitors. In this case, it was really like that, when all of us were finally herded together in Oslo after the travel fiasco. I remember making friends almost immediately, some of which I have to this day.

These events are a funny beast to tackle. It'd be easy at this stage in my life to say something like: "No need for them, they're unhealthy, and have nothing to do with the art of music." However, competitions aren't that black or white. I understand that in many ways, it's almost inevitable. It is, for a fact, competitive out there. I mean, look at the sports culture or business. It's a shame in many respects, but some of us will go over that hurdle, trying to make the most of it with a good attitude, if we choose to do so.

The Menuhin Competition was one of the first, larger international competitions I did at age 20 or 21. I don't think I went in expecting that much. Having been selected from the reserve list also didn't help get my hopes up of getting that far, so I was very surprised and honored to come out with third prize.

The staff, organization, Norway's pristine and friendly vibe, competitors, and programming of the rounds were all spectacular. Many competitions are aiming to do more of this these days, to make sure competitors are well-rounded and not just good technicians. The Menuhin Competition certainly did this well, as a legacy to the man behind the event's name.

Was it life-changing? Probably, to some extent! Everything is life-changing!

I didn't get a string of concerts after that, no. Nor did I get a huge boost of confidence. But I was proud for getting through something so demanding, happy about meeting some incredible people, and grateful to hear some really interesting playing. Lots of competitors, whether they were prize winners or not, are still playing in the music industry today. They are each on their own path and that is nice to see. 

Jury meetings are always quite interesting and I recommend future competitors to always go and listen to opinions. You might not agree with everything, but take what you can, because there is always something you can learn. I remember that one was particularly complimentary after the final concerto round, while another one told me bluntly that I was "too much." Another gave me some really useful, constructive criticism that I still remember and am grateful for today.

The funny thing is, I still get the same mixed comments today. So I figured out pretty early on that I cannot please everyone, and I'm slowly getting used to that."

-Suyeon

The post VC Artist Suyeon Kang — "My Menuhin Competition Experience" appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

During the sabbatical, I was prepared to not perform for a year. It wasn't like I had plans to perform and then they were evaporating. Now, however, I'm going through a bit of the roller coaster that people went through starting back in last March.

I spent a lot of the time initially adjusting to not being on the road. I took an intentionally long break, just to reset and revisit with myself. Because of what I do, I'm self-motivated through projects. It's really important to me that my projects, interests, passions, and inspirations all line up. I just like to check in with myself to make sure that I am indeed, exactly on the track that aligns naturally with myself.

I really learned the most during the second half of the sabbatical, because that's when everything changed. There was this global experience that was both keeping people apart and tying people together. I was observing all of that on social media and thinking, “Where can I fit into being part of a solution, and not part of a problem?” It's been probably the most intense, educational, and purpose-driven sabbatical I could have imagined.

Wonderful. What do you think you learned, in general, and about yourself?

It's always hard to quantify it until you put things into motion. I think I got more of a sense of self because, in the past 10 years, my life has changed a lot. I now have two little kids, and I also am at a point in my career where I'm realizing that I am one of the older generations. Not the oldest, but I'm entering what a lot of people in the music world consider the “prime years” for an artist.

I learned to be really comfortable with that place in my career — being in a generation that paves the way for the next generation that's coming out of the conservatory and hitting the stage.

Looking deep into my projects, I wondered how they represented the world that we live in and how could I navigate that? I learned to question myself constantly so that I arrive at a place of more authority within myself and more confident about my place in the world.

Tell us about the new CD. It features the never-before-released work by Einojuhani Rautavarra, who passed away in 2016. How did this opportunity come to you and can you tell us about the new work?

The record came out of an artist residency I was doing in Paris in the 2018-19 concert season. I love doing residencies with either a performing group, or a presenting organization, because it allows me to go into their world a bit more thoroughly and to try out some of my ideas.

As far as orchestras that work in Paris, I've been playing pretty much exclusively with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France since my teens. At the very beginning of the residency, I noticed that my relationship with them had become very entwined in a beautifully musical way. My work with Mikko Franck had also reached a point where we were speaking each other's languages. His work with the orchestra as music director had also reached a point where they were reading each other really fluidly. All of this was so connected, and we had the Rautavaara premiere coming up. I called Mikko and I said, “Can we make this a recording? Can we make this part of the residency even though it's already scheduled, and really memorialize this artistic experience?”

For both of us, it was really crucial to have the Rautavaara piece recorded so as to reach beyond the French public — and to make sure that it was heard by as many people as possible for as long as possible.

Mikko was very close with Rautavaara throughout his whole career. And then at his funeral, Mikko was taken by the composer's widow to his studio and shown this almost complete manuscript. It was his sort of final message and it closed out his catalog.

From there, we talked about our other dream pieces to do together and I've always loved Prokofiev 1. We would be able to hit all of those different peak musical moments that needed to be hit but then draw back into the delicate nuances as well. The Chausson was also a dream piece to work on with this orchestra because it's about color and authenticity. I felt like this orchestra does those things beautifully.

Obviously, you've been playing the Chausson and the Prokofiev since your teen years. They're such complex works, how does your interpretation evolve over the years? How do you know when a piece is ready to lay there for eternity?

I have been playing the Prokofiev for a really long time; I've always jumped at opportunities to play it. It's one of those pieces that is incredibly difficult to play and takes a lot of work, but it's not long in minutes. It can really can fit sort of anywhere in a concert season. But also, because it's so great for orchestral programming, it's a complete piece in and of itself as it shows the whole orchestra.

The Chausson, for logistical reasons that I described with Prokofiev, has the opposite experience. It's a standalone piece, yet it takes a very specific kind of program for its standalone qualities to really be able to take their own space. Sometimes anything that you would put with Chausson could potentially be overpowered by it.

It's also crucial to have musicians you're working within these pieces who will take what you're doing and develop it further. If I just play the violin part, it's super impressive, but that's not the piece. The Prokofiev needs everyone to be present, musically. And with the Chausson, the violin solo cannot exist on its own; it’s only a quarter of the story. Collaboration with these pieces is essential to the musicality of them.

Over the years, I've gotten more comfortable with taking my own space in an interpretation and not from anyone else. If I have an intuitive moment where I want to hold a note longer, I know there's a reason for that. I communicate it to my colleagues, but I also assume that they're listening and that they are going to work with me on it and amplify it.

Everybody is talking about the changes we're seeing in the industry. But for you personally, what do you see as the role of CDs and recordings today? 

I think as far as the formats, I'm finding that audience members have emotional relationships to recording platforms and how they listen to and experience a piece.

Recordings can hold special places for the audience experiencing them in their daily lives. I imagine all the different places I've listened to music, and all the different places I’ve seen other people listening to music. When I'm playing for the microphones, I'm playing for the person in their car, I'm playing for the air pods, I'm playing for the person who's cooking and taking a break from their day, I'm playing for the person who just put the vinyl on and is sitting down surrounded by sound.

So you're in quarantine right now, which is unfortunate timing after your planned time off. How do you stay motivated during this period?

It's been interesting to not be in a room with other musicians. I'm actually finding it hard to find the time to sit down and watch a lot of the performances that are happening online, but when I do, it means a lot. I'm motivated by the intensity of the music in a time when people are apart, and the fact that we can still connect, even sometimes more meaningfully.

Also, there are a lot of things that can be developed in this time where people are connecting more through technology that can be carried over once concerts are happening again. When touring happens, for example, there are a lot of things I couldn’t go to. I couldn’t teach a class if I'm in a different city than the students. It’s different now. For me, that's the kind of thing that's motivating me right now. I really want to build something that can continue out of this time and be meaningful to me in the future.

I found it really hard to prioritize practicing for a lot of the sabbatical. If it didn't feel natural, then I wouldn't. I took a lot of time away from it because other things were more important to me. Then, I started 100 days of practice for the fourth time on my Instagram, and I started doing it on Twitter as well. I found that Twitter was much more receptive to it, so now I'm running it on both platforms.

Do you have any special projects coming up?

About a year and a half ago, I started a project with Carol Riley, who is an Artificial Intelligence scientist and entrepreneur whom I knew personally, but hadn't really discussed AI and music with. But one day she called me up to say, “Hey, what do you think, could it be helpful? What do you think is problematic in this overlap between AI and music?” It wound up being this three-hour conversation, where we really got into concepts and the details of these questions.

By the end of that conversation, we thought we should probably explore this more formally. We co-founded Deep Music.Ai, which is exploring this creative process.

The purpose for us is to find the gaps between the fields and bridging those gaps. We also would like to encourage a relationship between AI and music. Art is the thing that makes us human, its creativity, its expression, its emotions, and AI needs to know how to do these things in all of its applications.

AI scientists are also really artistically inclined, as a lot of them have studied music. A lot of them are creating code that is essentially a work of art. Just the chance to talk with people at higher levels in different fields has been really intriguing for me and makes it really fun to be part of this project.

When do you see us returning to normal, and what do you feel may have changed forever from this pandemic? Anything positive?

It's hard to say, I think one thing that will always remain is the memory of this — there's an emotional memory that's going to stay with people who've lived through it, even little kids.

One thing that I've been doing is commissioning composers to write pieces for solo violin, whether it's through the Deep Music Project, or through a virtual residency.

For example, Michael Aprils wrote me a piece called Isolation Variation. Thinking of isolation before the pandemic, we would have asked, “What does he mean by isolation?” And now, isolation has some kind of emotional meaning. You don't have to explain it. We're living through history together. The art that's being made in this time, is tying our current selves to our future ones.

When things return to normal, I think it'll be definitely a process. We will ask ourselves if we need a mask, if we are too close to someone, etc. And then one day, everyone will not think about it.

I think it's going to be really important to look at the meaningful things during this time, and try to keep them going, even if the circumstances feel more normal.

During the pandemic, the Thomastik-Infeld DOMINANT string celebrated its 50th birthday. You're a long devotee of the string. Why is it so special to you?

I've been playing Dominants since I was a student. I like that they're accessible. I like that the sound is very predictable. I know that sounds boring, but it's actually so essential for an artist to know when you pull your violin out of the case.

I'm not a person who changes my strings every week. I just keep them on as long as possible and the way the Dominants age for me is really compatible with how I play. Also, for people who are constantly thinking about how much strings cost, it's good to have strings that last a while.

I like that the Dominants respond to the player — they have their own character, but they allow you to express on top of them. I really think it's important to have tools as an artist that don't require a lot of hoops to jump through. You get your instrument, you get your strings, you take your bow out of the case, you tighten your bow, you get your rosin, and then you just start playing. I think that that is so essential.

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Violinist Philippe Quint on His Time with Isaac Stern

My lesson with Isaac Stern.

Isaac Stern would have been 100 years old this week, July 21, 2020.

Yesterday, I had the honor and pleasure of being interviewed on Classical KCUR together with one of Isaac’s children - Michael Stern, a wonderful conductor, musician, and a friend with whom I’ve shared many great times on and off stage.

The conversation evoked memories of my lesson with Isaac Stern on November 1st, 1998 which I wanted to preserve in my memory for today’s special occasion.

Growing up in Soviet Union, I recall having a small collection of records with two recordings of Isaac Stern: Bruch’s G minor Violin Concerto paired with Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole and a collection of show pieces. These records, along with records of Jascha Heifetz, Henryk Szeryng, David Oistrakh and Leonid Kogan were my go-to recordings for inspiration.

After winning the Juilliard Competition in 1998 and performing with Maestro Masur at Lincoln Center, Ms. DeLay called me into her studio and said, ”Sugarplum - you did well with Korngold last week, I think you are ready to play for Isaac.”

As you can imagine, my heart stopped when I heard that I was going to play for a legend.

I had met Stern several times before, but mostly in passing and I recall feeling paralyzed in front of him. He had rather an intimidating presence.

Mrs. DeLay gave me some pointers before the lesson, indicating that Mr. Stern tends to be very critical of young artists and that over the years, she’s brought several students to him, but there were only a few that he liked. In several instances, he even suggested that some students should switch to viola.

On Nov. 1, 1998, a cold New York morning, I went to play for Isaac Stern in his apartment located on Central Park West.

I was met by his lovely personal assistant Jacques who showed me to the warm up room. I am pretty sure that this was a large closet as it had a very big display of concert shoes and wardrobes. It still felt like a room, as my New York apartment studio was much smaller.

Behind the closed doors, I could already hear Mrs. DeLay’s friendly banter with Stern and some laughter.

Soon after, I was called into the room.

Mrs. DeLay was sitting comfortably in a chair and quickly whispered to me, “be ready for a storm.”

Stern walked into the room a few minutes later, with glasses on his forehead.

He looked at me intensely and asked where I was from.

“Leningrad,” I replied. Oh “Govorish po ruski? (oh, you speak Russian?)” he asked in a lightly accented Russian.

From then on, the discussion went mostly in Russian and glancing at Mrs. DeLay, I had a feeling she felt a bit left out of the conversation but kept pleasantly smiling as if she was enjoying the sound of a foreign language.

Isaac asked what I had prepared. It was the first movement of Korngold’s Violin Concerto which Mrs. DeLay felt was a safe bet for milder criticism, and the other piece was Beethoven’s Sonata no. 8.

“Movie music” exclaimed Isaac, referring to Korngold. To me that sounded like this was hardly a good choice of a piece that Stern wanted to hear.

“Ok,” he said. “Let’s hear it.”

After a few pages, around the development, he stopped me and said,

“You are a good fiddler, you play very well, but why did you slide up and down in this passage, the same way?”

I wasn’t sure if this was more of a rhetorical question and if I should keep my mouth shut and wait for his answer. After a few seconds of contemplation, I mumbled something to the effect of, “I feel that these particular harmonies needed more expressivity and while I did not intend to have similar glissando’s in both instances, I was not aware that it came off this way.”

He then spent a few minutes discussing choices in music, interpretation and approach to a work that is already heavily Romantic in its nature.

He asked if there was any great reason why I felt that it needed to be sweetened more than it already is. After questioning my ideas on Korngold, I could tell he wanted to move on to Beethoven.

Here again, I was only able to play a few phrases before he stopped me.

“Go to the beginning,” he said.

“Play the beginning slowly now.”

“Now play those groups of sextuplets with separate bow.”

“You see,” he said, switching back to Russian, “one must understand that there is meaning behind every note. You need to discover that meaning. When you do, I want to hear you again.”

The lesson was winding down and I was putting the violin into my case when Isaac suddenly said, “By the way, do you play the viola?”

My heart sank. I looked at Mrs. Delay with panic in my eyes and hope that she can bail me out from what could be my very last encounter with violin.

Her poker face expression read, “I told you so,” which was immediately followed by a mysterious Mona Lisa smile, confirming that I’ll have to handle this myself.

“No, I don’t” I replied.

“You should… You are tall and you have long arms, you should definitely play the viola” … he paused… “in addition to violin.”

“All great fiddlers I know, played the viola” he continued.

The lesson ended. I was exhausted and somewhat baffled.

When I arrived home, there was already a message from Mrs. DeLay waiting for me. I immediately called her.

“Sugar plum” she said, “Did you understand what Mr. Stern wanted to convey?”

I said, “Frankly, Mrs. DeLay, I didn’t really understand everything. What does it even mean, “meaning behind every note.” It’s such a vague statement!”

“Isaac believes that young musician’s don’t spend enough time thinking in depth about the music” Mrs. DeLay calmly explained.

“He has said it on many occasions and to many of my students.

I think the lesson was very positive and most importantly he said that he wanted to hear you again so we'll try to schedule something soon.”

It has now been slightly over 22 years since that catalyst encounter in my musical life.

Of course, at the time, I wanted Stern to just say how much he loved my playing, but what I walked away with was much more precious.

The non-achievable but a constant and recurring quest for finding a meaning behind every note.

Happy Centennial Isaac Stern

- Philippe

Do you have an idea for a blog or news tip? Simply email: hello@theviolinchannel.com

Multi Grammy Award nominee violinist Philippe Quint is constantly in demand and regularly appears with major orchestras such as London Philharmonic and Chicago Symphony at venues ranging from the Gewandhaus in Leipzig to Carnegie Hall in New York.

Mr. Quint is a frequent guest at the most prestigious festivals including Verbier, Aspen, Colmar, Hollywood Bowl and Dresden Festspiele. His live performances and interviews have been broadcast on CBS, CNN, ABC, BBC, NBC, Reuters, Bloomberg TV. The last 2 seasons saw Mr. Quint produce two critically acclaimed multimedia shows ” Charlie Chaplin’s Smile” and Astor Piazzolla’s “Between Angels and Demons”. His award winning discography includes 17 critically acclaimed releases on several major labels including Warner Classics, Naxos and Avanti Classics.

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The Violin Channel recently caught up with acclaimed British cellist, Steven Isserlis, to talk more about this. 

British cellist Steven Isserlis on Music's Meaning During Times of Crisis

So here we are, stuck in a surreal world that none of us could have foreseen even a few weeks ago. Musicians seem to be as badly off as anyone – we’ve been left suddenly without employment, with concert halls, opera houses, music schools, etc closed for an indefinite period. Basically, it’s a horror movie come to life, an unseen alien hunting us down as we hide behind obsessively-scrubbed doorways.

But in another way, we musicians are lucky – because even this alien cannot take music away from us; and great music seems to be speaking to people even more strongly at the moment than it does in ‘peacetime’.

There’s a good reason for that: this crisis is forcing people to reassess their whole lives, to ponder meaningful questions – the sort of questions that great music addresses, and maybe even cases answers.

Of course, there’s also the entertainment and escapism value of music, which is extremely important; but I think that at this moment, something deeper is going on.

The late John Tavener had throughout his life been quite suspicious of the music of Beethoven, feeling that it was too personal, rather than universal. Then John suffered a massive heart attack, from which he only partially recovered, living for the rest of his life enfeebled and in pain. It was at this point that Beethoven suddenly became of paramount importance to him. He felt that, through his late quartets particularly, Beethoven was offering him profound comfort, was showing him that he too had suffered deeply, but had found the light through that suffering. It helped John come to terms with his reduced state of health, and to make the very most of his last years.

Perhaps that was an extreme case (though John’s experience was by no means unique); but I am feeling something of that now, in the comments people ore making about how much music means to them at this time. And to me too: of course: I am as terrified as anyone about the invasion of this far-from-brave new world; but I’m finding tremendous solace in listening and playing the music I love. It doesn’t have to be the greatest music only – for instance, I’m spending some time practicing a small concerto by Boccherini, slight but loveable; it takes me into a world of such innocent, elegant beauty that I forget the turmoil outside my practice-room. But also I find that I’m listening to Bach, Mozart, Schubert, Schumann etc even more than usual; there is unfathomable comfort there.

So in many ways we musicians are lucky. We have the opportunity to bury ourselves in our beloved art; and we can help others--those we can reach, at least, by sharing it with them. In that way, we can try to do the same as those who composed this music did to the people of their day: offer them relief and consolation in challenging times.

-Steven Isserlis

Do you have an idea for a blog or news tip? Simply email: hello@theviolinchannel.com

Acclaimed worldwide for his profound musicianship and technical mastery, British cellist Steven Isserlis enjoys a unique and distinguished career as a soloist, chamber musician, educator, author and broadcaster. His recording of the complete Solo Cello Suites by J.S. Bach for Hyperion met with the highest critical acclaim, and was Gramophone’s Instrumental Album of the Year and Critics’ Choice at the Classic BRITS. The recipient of many awards, Steven Isserlis’s honours include a CBE in recognition of his services to music, the Schumann Prize of the City of Zwickau, and the Piatigorsky Prize in the USA. He is also one of only two living cellists featured in Gramophone’s Hall of Fame. He gives most of his concerts on the Marquis de Corberon (Nelsova) Stradivarius of 1726, kindly loaned to him by the Royal Academy of Music.

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Former 3rd prize winner, VC Artist Angelo Xiang Yu guest blogs about his overwhelming, yet heroic experience at the 2011 competition - with the death of his mother just 2 days prior to the start.

"My Michael Hill Competition experience was a mixture of joy and sadness.

It was 8 year ago, a month before the competition, my dad called me from China while I was having lunch at the student lounge of New England Conservatory. By then my mom had been suffering from leukemia for more than 20 months, and my dad told me that she had less than a month to live and it would be nice for me to go home immediately.

So I finished all the school final work in 2 days, and flew back to Shanghai, where my family lives.

My mom was on the edge of losing consciousness when I saw her, but she could still recognize me, and from time to time she would whisper to me in a very low voice. When I mentioned the competition in New Zealand to her, she seemed to be very happy and encouraged me to go. After just one week, she could barely say anything already.

For many times, I wanted to email the competition that I was not able to participate. On top of the circumstance in my family, I had an injury in my left hand due to stress and pinched nerve which gave me constant pain and numbness, so I almost couldn’t practice at all during that entire period.

I spent the next two weeks mainly in hospital, sitting beside her bed and tried to learn two new pieces by mentally practicing. 1. The commissioned work of that year was a wonderful solo piece called Gyftiko by New Zealand composer John Psathas. 2. Beethoven Ghost Trio, which I never played before, only sight-read it once with some friends of mine in Boston.

I don’t know if it was God’s plan, my plane ticket to New Zealand was on May 28th, 2011, and that very morning, my mother took her last breath in front of me. I rushed to the airport, the world turned into grey, and I lost the courage to even shed a single tear.

I was not able to sleep during the flight, so I put on my earphone, listening to the Ghost trio by Beaux Arts many times, and wrote down everything in my mind in the score and part.

18 semifinalists from all over the world had to give two recitals in Queenstown, I did not expect myself much due to my poor preparation, I only hoped that I could get through the recitals without memory slip. I remember I started the first recital with Bach’s g minor Adagio, which all of a sudden became the most difficult thing in the world – I realized how weak my hands were after not regularly practiced for more than 2 months, let alone with the excruciating sadness after my huge loss just 2 days ago. I remember my hands started shaking in many places, and I had to close my eyes from time to time to oblige myself to focus.

It really took me by surprise when I heard my name in the finalists announcement, as I did not expect that at all. It was a strange feeling – so happy that I would get the chance to work and perform with two world-class musicians on the Ghost Trio; but on the hand really sad that the burden on my shoulder became even more.

Six of us flew to Auckland for the chamber music round.

Chamber music has been my major passion since age of 13 when I formed my first quartet in China, and I was so glad that this competition has a specific section dedicated to this area. Working with cellist Ashley Brown and pianist Michael Houstoun was like walking in the heaven – everything seemed so natural, friendly, and easy. Even on stage, I didn’t feel that I was in a competition environment. Funny enough, after we finished our performance, these two artists still could believe that I never played this piece. I guess in some cases we need to practice a lot to form a sense of steadiness, but other times we might need certain “freshness” to inspire ourselves as well as other people. I guess that’s what I learned from it.

I always try not to recall the memory of my concerto round. Even though I performed the Prokofiev Concerto No.2 before at the Menuhin Competition, I haven’t touched it since then, and didn’t have much chance to review it. Also after some these previous round my hands got so tired and started to have some serious pain. I remember that I had to take 4 pills of pain killer before the performance, and for once in the second movement my mind completely stopped, but the fingers were magically moving by themselves.

I really don’t know how I got through the concerto, it was like a dream. The only thing I remember was that my mom’s face appeared many times as I closed my eyes, and I kept telling myself not to give up, not for myself but for her.

It was not my best performance, but I’m actually proud of myself, as my goal was not the win the competition, but to fulfill my mom’s last wish. So I’m happy that I was brave enough to complete this journey despite of all the difficulties.

Two weeks went really quickly. I had such great time with my two host families. I went fishing and hiking with my Queenstown host Trish and her son Lukas, and in Auckland my host Sir James inspired me with all his art work at home, which was like a modern art museum! Most importantly, I became friends with many of the competitors there, but had to say good bye to them so soon, as if you almost have to leave a garden when you know that the flowers are about to blossom.

- Angelo"

VC ARTIST ANGELO XIANG YU | PROKOFIEV VIOLIN CONCERTO NO. 2 IN G MINOR | 2011 MICHAEL HILL INTERNATIONAL VIOLIN COMPETITION | 3RD PRIZE

The post VC Artist Angelo Xiang Yu - 'Michael Hill Comp: Mixture of Joy & Sadness' [BLOG] appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

In a VC-exclusive blog, Belgium violinist and former 1st Prize winner, VC Young Artist Marc Bouchkov talks us through his 2013 experience:

"Montreal Competition, each time I remember this moment of my life I am becoming very nostalgic. I must admit this was one of the greatest moments of my musical life!

Yes musical, because of the warmth the people showed there upon arrival, and the ideal conditions in which the competition takes place. It inspires to play music from the heart and not only the “right notes in the right moment”.

My first impression coming out of the terminal at the airport: “Wow, I have a good feeling about this!”

I had an amazing host family, which gave me all the freedom and positive surrounding needed. I felt like a prince who only had to worry about practicing and playing the best way possible!

I recall preparing the competition because it was the time when I was still sitting in the NDR sinfonieorchester as tutti, and I had (believe it or not) plenty of organized time to practice and study. I always wanted to challenge myself. But this I guess is something that will never leave me alone )

I also can remember many people willing me that “I’m not ready” or that “why am I doing it now” or things like this, which really gave me extra motivation to do it! Probably to prove something to myself and the others?

Can’t say this is a really honorable reason, but well, it worked out in the end.

I think my experience in Montreal wouldn’t have been the same if there wasn’t Queen Elizabeth one year earlier. I had the chance to see and analyze the reactions of many wonderful players back then in the Chapel. I remembered that the more humble and relaxed you relate to the “judging process” and the more you think of it as a “série of recitals” and not of “rounds”, the more you feel like a musician. 

If not, you’re just another “contestant” taking part in a “competition”.

I like to think of these events more as a “competition with oneself”.

You need to be ready to deliver the 100% of your possibilities. The closest you come to your own 100%, the closest you are to be a winner. Maybe it doesn’t always fit with the expectations of some of the jury members, but you have to try to convince them.

I remember one of the most memorable moment was for me the time when my host (who used to have a drum set in his house) was giving me a super rock metronome for the finale of Tchaikovsky Violin concerto. My god, we had so much fun. Of course after the results, I believe we had such a nice party and evening, in the beautiful old cafes and bars of Montreal. It was simply great. 

The competition assisted me in many ways afterwards, giving me the possibility to perform in great halls and with great conductors and orchestras. My visit card got somehow more solid)

But above all, the fact itself just encourages to believe in oneself more, and be a bit more self-confident. It reminds you in the darkest moments, that you actually “achieved” something! And we all know that those moments arrive quite often in a musician’s life!

The predisposition of the jury towards the musicality of each player was really outstanding. I remember very different players, with different personalities, being recognized and pushed through. 

This is something which really marked me on a very good way. 

I will always remember this time as one of my favorite musical challenge ever!

I wish all the candidates of this year a lot of concentration, fun and of course enjoyment!

-Marc"

Watch the 2019 Montreal International Violin Competition live on The Violin Channel – direct from Montreal, Québec, Canada.

The post VC Young Artist Marc Bouchkov – ‘Montreal Comp: The Greatest Musical Moment of My Life' [BLOG] appeared first on World's Leading Classical Music Platform.

As we approach the Final round of this year's violin competition, Berlin Philharmonic 1st Concertmaster, VC Artist Noah Bendix-Balgley guest blogs about his 2009 violin competition experience.

"I performed at the Queen Elisabeth Competition in 2009.

At the time, I was living and studying in Munich, Germany. By that point, I had participated in many competitions already, and of course Brussels was on my radar, but I had serious doubts about going.

The repertoire list was huge: 12 pieces, encompassing over 3 hours of the most challenging violin music out there. I wasn’t sure I could prepare all of that. And we had to reserve at least 4 weeks to be in Brussels for the competition, which meant saying no to other good concert opportunities.

However, because of the candidate age limits, 2009 was my only chance to enter the competition, and it was an enormous challenge that I wanted to attempt. The Mount Everest of violin!

When I made the finals, I was absolutely thrilled. After the announcement, I had just two days before entering the Chapelle. I tried to practice, but it was hard to remain calm, especially with the intense and constant media attention that the Queen Elisabeth draws in Belgium.

I entered the Chapelle on the second day, together with Lorenzo Gatto, a week before our finals performances. At first, it was very quiet. Just Lorenzo, Ye-Eun Choi, and Vineta Sareika, and myself.

After turning in our phones, we received the music to the compulsory piece by Eun-Hwa Cho called Agens. It looked truly unplayable, full of seemingly random double and triple stops, all over the violin at breakneck speed. I spent 9 hours the first day just trying to find theoretical fingering solutions.

There was a friendly collegial atmosphere among the finalists. We were all in the same boat, and we knew it.

Practice breaks were spent wandering the grounds, playing ping-pong and badminton, and reading.

Each day, two more finalists entered. By the end of the week, when Nikita Borisoglebsky and Ray Chen came there were 12 of us. Slowly, we began to believe we could actually play this new piece. When Ray and Nikita came in, we decided to screw with them a bit. We acted like the new piece was really quite easy, and that most of us were going to play it by memory (none of us did). I don’t think they believed us for a second!

The week at the Chapelle was a unique experience, and I feel lucky that I was part of this little club of violinists that has gone through it.

In today’s world, with all the constant distractions we have from our electronics, the news, and the noise of everyday life, it was special to have a week that was completely devoted to practicing and working on my craft. I’ve never practiced so hard in my life.

When I left for my performance, taken by car to the Palais des Beaux Arts with my violin and my suitcase, there was a part of me that was sad to leave and return to the real world.

The challenge of the Queen Elisabeth competition was probably the hardest thing I have done in my career. It puts any other pressure-filled performance or audition I have faced into perspective.

Although I didn’t win the Queen Elisabeth, the exposure that the competition provided for my playing led directly to important further steps in my career. I believe strongly that one should not enter competitions to win prizes.

Bartok famously said “Competitions are for horses”, and in a horse race, there is a clearcut winner. Music isn’t so clear. However, competitions can provide a personal challenge, and if you approach them in that way by preparing well and improving your playing, then they are worthwhile

Noah"

VC ARTIST NOAH BENDIX-BALGLEY | BRAHMS VIOLIN CONCERTO | GILBERT VARGA & NATIONAL ORCHESTRA OF BELGIUM | 2009 QUEEN ELISABETH INTERNATIONAL VIOLIN COMPETITION

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1997 3rd prize winner, violin virtuoso Kristóf Baráti, guest blogs about his experience inside the infamous Chapelle Musicale Reine Elisabeth:

“O my! The 1997 Queen Elisabeth Competition seems like such another world away for me now.

It was a surreal experience, and certainly a highly intense way to celebrate my 18th birthday.

My host family during the earlier rounds had been so nice, supportive and accommodating to me, so before entering the Chapelle I remember feeling apprehensive. In my 17-year-old imagination, I think I was thinking I was about to be locked up in Alcatraz.

Upon arriving at the Chapelle, I remember being given the right to one 'last call' before they took away my huge 'brick' cell phone, with double sized batteries, and handed me the score to “Raptus” by Hendrik Hofmeyr.

I was sad to see my lifeline gone – as I swear I only would have used it to call my girlfriend.

Luckily for us, 1997 was the very beginning of the internet era, so no real online detox was required. (Quite unbelievable to think?)

As I entered the Chapelle as one of the last candidates the place was full when I arrived. I remember the building as being a little 'retro' although very clean and very organised – with the most promising piece of furniture for maintaining sanity: the well worn ping-pong table.

I obviously spent a lot of my time during the week alone learning the new work, but I also remember a great feeling of collegiality – with a number of us coming together at various times to compare and exchange fingering solutions.

The 1997 new work was certainly complicated and included some usual requests, such as tuning the E string down at one point, but by end, I believe we all came to enjoy it.

Congratulations to my friend Andrew Haveron, now Concertmaster of the Sydney Symphony, who was awarded the 'Best Performance' prize of the work – and of course Nikolaj Znaider, who took the 1997 grand prize.

The saddest part of the Chapelle experience, I recall was actually as the finals began and seeing my new friends diminish from our home day by day.

The Queen Elisabeth competition, with its huge repertoire requirements and the sheer physical and mental intensity of it, is definitely a unique and gigantic mountain to climb – but wow, what fantastic life memories!

Kristóf”

KRISTOF BARATI | BEETHOVEN VIOLIN CONCERTO | MARC SOUSTROT & ROYAL PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA OF FLANDERS | 1997 QUEEN ELISABETH INTERNATIONAL VIOLIN COMPETITION | 3RD PRIZE | 18-YEARS-OLD

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