Symphonies & Scorpions: The “Firebird” Strad
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A Bucolic Respite , Sunday, April 20
Since Sunday (Easter) and Monday are free days, after the concert last night I drove a rental car two hours to the cottage in the Berkshires that Cecily and I have owned since 1976, arriving at about 1:00 a.m. I haven’t been here since Christmas. Everything’s in fine shape, with only a few cobwebs and nary a trace of mouse poop.
In the morning I engage in outdoor manual labor, much needed both for me and the weedy garden beds. The woods echo with an unusual number of woodpeckers, like a chorus of cajonistas. It’s all very therapeutic.
Monday, April 21
Goes with the Territory
I wake at 6:00 a.m., too antsy to stay in bed, and a few hours thereafter I meet Joe McGauley for breakfast at a local eatery. Joe’s a recently retired BSO violinist who has since moved full-time to Lenox, just a couple miles from Tanglewood. More than being my former colleague, he’s my oldest friend. We played in student orchestras on Long Island together when he was nine and I was eight, and raised Cain together ever since. Joe had to retire from the orchestra sooner than he would have chosen due to the effects of focal dystonia, a chronic condition which makes it frustratingly difficult to control the fine motor skills necessary to play an instrument at the level Joe demanded of himself. The ailment became “famous” with the great pianist, Leon Fleisher, who lost the use his right hand for decades, but who heroically continued to perform concertos composed solely for the left hand. Amazingly, his ability to use his right hand returned, but as there is no tried-and-true treatment or cure for the disease, Fleisher has been the rare exception. And unfortunately, there’s never been an effective way developed to play the violin with one hand.
Playing-related injuries have increased to near epidemic proportions among orchestra musicians. Some of those injuries are temporary and treatable. Others can be chronic and permanently debilitating. Part of it may be attributed not only to the hectic schedules, but to the different types of playing the musicians need to do; everything from Baroque music to symphonic works to opera and ballet to pops to backing up rock bands.
Good practice habits, like warming up slowly and practicing scales daily, help but by no means guarantee injuries can be avoided. Even the way musicians set up their instruments and how they sit in their chairs can make a significant difference.
I count my blessings that I avoided playing-related injury throughout my career. That is, until December, 2013, when I broke all the tried-and-true practice rules I had built up for myself over a lifetime. I did have an excuse, though. I was invited to play on the famous “Firebird” Stradivarius for a performance of three virtuoso violin concertos from Antonio Vivaldi’s Opus 4, La Stravaganza. I had the Strad for only one week, and the sound of the instrument was so intoxicating that every morning I greedily attacked the concertos without warming up properly in a room that, on those cold December days, also hadn’t warmed up enough.
[image error]The “Firebird” Strad. Playing on it almost ended my career, but I loved every minute of it.
I managed to make it through the concert, but that was the last I would touch a fiddle for a full month while undergoing weekly massage therapy and daily stretching exercises on my right side from my neck to my fingertips. I began to play again in February. Very, very slowly. I wanted to make sure I would be back in shape by April; otherwise, I might not have been able to go on the tour. By the way, I didn’t mention any of that to the personnel manager. Nor do I regret for a second having had the opportunity to play on one of the world’s great violins.
Tuesday, April 22
Black & White
I suppose it’s a prerogative of orchestra musicians to be judgmental of music, guest artists, performances…and of conductors. After all, music is our passion. What amazes outsiders, but is something we’re all accustomed to in the biz, is that our opinions about these things could be as radically different from each other as Bernie Sanders’s and Paul Ryan’s take on health care. For example, I have a colleague, a very gentle, thoughtful soul, who offered this nuanced opinion of Dutoit during the first half of our morning rehearsal: “He tries to combine Swiss precision with French charm. And fails miserably at both.”
“So, what’s your point?” I joke.
Well, there you go. That’s one of the things I love about musicians. No unanimous opinions. But paradoxically, no gray areas, either.
Cultural Exchange
My colleague’s comments notwithstanding, I engage in a very pleasant chat with the maestro during our twenty-minute rehearsal break, swapping China anecdotes. Dutoit had earlier remarked to the orchestra upon one of the positive repercussions of the BSO’s 1979 tour. It seems there was a music festival director in China who, when he was a young boy, had attended one of our Beijing concerts and had been so moved that he decided to become a clarinetist. Though he wasn’t able to attain professional expertise, he became so passionate about music that he dedicated his life to becoming a successful arts administrator. In a similar vein, I mention to Dutoit that as a result of that same Beijing concert, a few of the Chinese conservatory students we met came to Boston to complete their study. They became good friends and I warmly recall one evening at our home in Back Bay when they made the best homemade jiao tse I ever had. Shortly thereafter, they joined the Montreal Symphony when Dutoit was the music director. He remembers them fondly. Those are the kinds of international connections in the music world that, if for no other reason, justify touring. It brings us together.
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NEWS FLASH: MY FIRST POLITICAL THRILLER, THE BEETHOVEN SEQUENCE, IS SCHEDULED FOR RELEASE ON SEPTEMBER 8! A MENTALLY UNBALANCED MUSIC TEACHER BECOMES PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES! PREPOSTEROUS? STAY TUNED.