INTERVIEW | Maxim Vengerov | "Everything has to be achieved through love"


In conversation with Maxim Vengerov
Interviewed in London on 6 March 2020.

_Maxim Vengerov © IDAGIO _ Diago Mariotta Mendez
Maxim Vengerov, © Diago Mariotta Mendez

Fate is a simple word. This four-letter monosyllabic word, as the simplicity of the four-note Fate motif that opens Beethoven's 5th symphony, produces a short, unadorned, and straightforward impression upon its pronunciation. The meaning behind the word, in my view, is no more sophisticated than its minimalistic exterior; things simply exist for a reason. Or as Maxim Vengerov puts it, "What will happen, will happen; what will not, will not. I believe in fate", our pre-interview greetings at the Oxford and Cambridge Club pleasantly digressing into exchanges of broad life philosophies.

What ought one to make of such a statement, in meeting one of the most celebrated violinists of our time? In being a fatalist, in believing that the future and past are beyond control, one no longer worries about the future and the past; one can finally focus entirely on the present. Happy is the one who can live in the now. Unhappy is the one who lives in the ungraspable, abstract what-ifs of regret and of fear in the unforeseeable. Is fatalism thus the source of Maxim Vengerov's charisma, energy, and smiles that he so seemingly possesses? Yet why is there also something undeniably gentle and sad when one thinks of fate? One wonders.

However, there is only so much one can wonder, especially when one is simultaneously trying to keep up with a conversation with the object of one's wondering. Besides, I had not arrived at the interview venue on this dark, rainy day only to converse about fate with Maxim Vengerov. Rather, I was to discuss with him his recent releases on Idagio and his Royal Albert Hall concert commemorating his 40th year on stage. Then there were aspects concerning the violinist's relationships with Rostropovich and Shostakovich that I thought deserved further uncovering. Handshakes soon turned to greetings, and the rest of our introductory gestures gradually morphed into a conversation addressing some of my prepared (and non-prepared) questions.

(Note. Maxim Vengerov's Royal Albert Hall concert has been rescheduled for 20th April, 2021.)

I.

(Note. We had just talked about classical music in Korea, where MV had mentioned the Chung family.)

Young-Jin Hur (YH): I've heard that you've recently signed a contract with Idagio, the classical music streaming app.

Maxim Vengerov (MV): Yes, that's correct. One of my first releases was a recording with Myung-Whun Chung.

YH: That was with L'Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France if I'm not wrong?

MV: Exactly. We played Tchaikovsky's violin concerto and some French repertoire... Saint-Saëns and Ravel, in particular. My second recording with Idagio was released in February, taken from a live concert at Carnegie Hall.

YH: How did the idea for collaborating with Idagio start?

MV: Till Janczukowicz, one of the founders of Idagio, had the idea to bring all the catalogue into an online platform. The website would be easy to navigate across all generations. I think this is a pioneering way of presenting music in our 21st century.

YH: And with good sound quality, too. 

MV: Yes. Absolutely. How old are you?

YH: 28, I think (after a pause). Yes, I am 28 (YH laughs).

MV: Ah, you're very young. This means you wouldn't know how it was like to listen to music many years ago. I recorded my first LP when I was 10. I take pride in the fact that I am one of the few artists that have recorded in three formats - LP, CD, and, now, online streaming. I lived through three different generations.

YH: Arriving from LPs and CDs run by big companies, do you notice that there's more artistic freedom at Idagio?

MV: The focus is on the consumer. Idagio presents a wide range of repertoire on their website. Without little effort, you can explore 30-40 different versions of a particular Beethoven symphony, for example. The fact that artists can present their own playlists is also attractive. I've presented my own playlist of pieces I enjoy listening to. This way, I am able to build a closer relationship with my audiences than I was able to do before.

YH: Regarding your first Idagio recording, how is it like to work with Myung-Whun Chung?

MV: For me, he's one of the greatest conductors alive. He has a distinct style that he can instantly communicate with any orchestra. I think this skillset comes from his own instrumental intensity. After all, he's a great pianist.

YH: Yes, Mr Chung's credentials as a pianist is something that is not often talked about. He did come second in the 1974 International Tchaikovsky Competition.

MV: Yes. Because of his knowledge of playing an instrument, one could say he plays an orchestra on the podium.

(Note. The artistic greatness of Myung-Whun Chung was also discussed in my conversation with Seong-Jin Cho.)

YH: Do you think pianists and violinists approach music differently when they conduct orchestras? 

MV: The piano thinks more in harmonies; it's a vertical instrument. The violin, on the other hand, focuses on one or two lines... three lines at most. In other words, violinists approach music more horizontally and therefore emphasise singing qualities or vocal sounds.

YH: About this "vocal sound"... is this something you emphasise when you conduct or when you teach?

MV: Absolutely. When I give violin lessons here at the Royal College of Music or at Universität Mozarteum in Salzburg, I always tell my students to imitate vocalists and even tell them to listen to more operas. One must try to connect one sound with another as if building invisible bridges. Once you start thinking about these invisible qualities, you soon realise there is something deeply spiritual in music-making. In connecting notes - and for me, each note has a life - you're also connecting different lives.


(Note. The rest of MV's Idagio releases can be accessed here.)


II.

YH: Whenever you teach, do you have a model teacher in mind?

MV: While I've had great teachers and mentors in my life, I must highlight one that opened many doors to the music world. That was Mstislav Rostropovich. He was one of the greatest cellists of all time, a true giant in the 20th century. At the same time, he was a conductor and composer who studied with Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Through Rostropovich, it was as if I was being acquainted with Shostakovich and Prokofiev personally. In our age, who can say that we know someone who knew Mahler in person? Being with Rostropovich was simply an honour. This experience motivates me to teach regularly, giving the younger generation a part of my own musical experience, as Rostropovich has given me.

YH: Let's also not forget that you give great concerts, too, setting a wonderful example to many! Soon, you'll be performing Shostakovich's first violin concerto at the Royal Albert Hall as part of a celebration to mark your 40 years on stage. Is there a reason you chose this concerto in particular? I feel there is something symbolic here.

MV: At the age of 19, I came to London to perform this concerto, with Rostropovich conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Our performance was a tremendous success, and this concert helped me mature as a musician. It is a concert that still remains a highlight of my life. So I wanted to bring back these old sentiments this year to London.

YH: Talking about Rostropovich and Shostakovich, in a previous interview you stated that Rostropovich said he saw Shostakovich in you. I would like to know more about this comment.

MV: Before I say anything else, I must state this. Some people ask me what my favourite composer is. This is a challenging question to answer because my favourite piece of music is always the piece I am preparing at the time, be it a piece by Bartók, Beethoven, or Tchaikovsky. Otherwise, I'd be playing pieces I am only asked to play (MV laughs). In other words, I don't play on demand.

I also don't play music as a routine. If I do not feel passionate about certain works, I do not play these works at all. In fact, I will do everything in my powers to replace these pieces with something I feel passionate about. To play a work I am only mildly passionate about is to no one's benefit. In other words, my repertoire only includes my favourite compositions... it's just that my repertoire is quite large.

(both laugh)

MV: Every musician has his or her own character. While I am enthusiastic about a wide range of works, there remain two composers who are very close to my heart. It's not that I can play or conduct their works better than works of other composers. Rather, the pieces of these two composers come so naturally to me. If I were to start writing music today, I'd compose works that are exactly in the styles of these two composers. The two composers I am referring to are Shostakovich and Mozart.

Shostakovich and Mozart are completely different from each other. Their respective styles are so much in contrast with one another that it is as if they come from two planets. In Mozart, I feel the depths of profundity and elegance. Mozart composed in a style of the time. When I play Mozart, I time travel to Mozart's epoch.

When playing Shostakovich, I feel I am physically present in the Soviet Union. In every sound I produce, I live what Shostakovich went through... his concerns, his tragedies, his hopes, and his battles. In the last days of Rostropovich's life, Rostropovich told me that he had to teach me a lot of things over the years, for example, the music of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky. But he told me never had to teach me how to play Shostakovich. I hope this answers your question.

YH: It does. It's remarkable that he chose Shostakovich over all other composers. Did he perhaps see a parallel in personality between you and Shostakovich?

MV: It may come down to the simple fact that Rostropovich's favourite composer was Shostakovich. Shostakovich was a musical father to Slava [Rostropovich], although Slava spent as much, if not more time with Prokofiev. The way Slava talked about Shostakovich and the love he felt toward Shostakovich cannot be described in words. I have the same love toward Shostakovich, through the help of Slava. I think Slava knew of our shared love of Shostakovich.



III.

YH: What is your relationship with Prokofiev? You've mentioned Prokofiev a few times already. But it seems your connection with Prokofiev wasn't as strong as your connection with Shostakovich. 

MV: Prokofiev is a genius. For me, Prokofiev is the Mozart of the 20th century.

YH: In what sense?

MV: In the sense of having the greatest sensibility, complexity, and simplicity... the greatest lyricism and mysticism, too. In the music of Mozart, there is always something nice and pleasing. Likewise, the pieces by Prokofiev are so melodious. But underneath this pleasantness, there are at least five levels of other things. If you really listen carefully and study their music, the music is incredibly intellectual, it's magical. There is no other music that is as visual as Prokofiev's, especially his ballets. On the other hand, Shostakovich's music is like a rock mountain, full of strength; he is a reincarnation of Beethoven.

YH: There's a lot of anger in the music of Beethoven and Shostakovich.

MV: Yes, but anger is just one part. At times, their music is victorious and gives people hope and strength. Shostakovich's scores have energy. Even if you feel tired after a long day, you feel this energy when you look into the first page of one of his scores. When you start "connecting sounds" from the score, you cannot sleep the whole night. Shostakovich's music shakes you (MV laughs).

YH: Both Shostakovich and Beethoven seem to have this immaculate sense of darkness-into-light journey. The way they develop ideas and emotions is very dramatic. This is evident in their symphonies. 

MV: Yes. Shostakovich is one of the greatest symphonists, if not the greatest symphonist of the 20th century.

YH: Do you listen to a lot of symphonies?

MV: Not only do I enjoy listening to symphonies, but I conduct them too.

YH: Was there a specific symphony that inspired you to start conducting?

MV: Yes. I always had a dream to conduct Shostakovich's 10th symphony.

YH: Ah, that's an intense piece.

MV: All of Shostakovich's symphonies are.

(both laugh)




IV.

YH: I imagine conducting symphonies influenced your violin playing.

MV: Having conducted symphonies, I am now able to see new colours when performing violin concertos. Thinking of Shostakovich's first violin concerto, my approach toward the concerto is different from the way I used to play the concerto prior to my conducting experience. I feel a degree of profundity that I was not able to experience when I recorded the concerto with Rostropovich at the age of 19.

YH: Extending on this issue of your musical development, is there a side to you that you think has not changed over the years? 

MV: The love and passion for music and the aim to strive for purity in music haven't changed. I still want to perform not for myself but for the audience. Of course, I play for myself, but I enjoy playing because of the audience. Needless to say, I've changed a lot, too. I gathered many things in life as I went along. The danger of knowledge, yet, is that you may lose your innocence.

YH: What do you mean by that last sentence?

MV: For example, as a professional violinist, you might have performed the Tchaikovsky concerto hundreds of times - figuratively speaking. In this case, you can feel tired of the piece, so that you are no longer innocently passionate toward this piece. In other words, even though you may think you know the concerto well because you've staged it so often, you're in fact losing much by having compromised your passion. You need this innocence through passion. Besides, you cannot know everything in music.

Due to the danger of having my enthusiasm toward certain pieces diminish in this manner, I have always been careful to guard myself against getting to know a piece too well or overplaying it. If I feel I play a piece too much, I replace that piece with another one. It's ironic, that the more you love something, the more you have to keep a distance from that thing.

YH: It sounds like you have to be systematic in shaping your repertoire.

MV: Yes.

YH: Did you have this system all our life? 

MV: Yes. There was a time I didn't play the Tchaikovsky concerto for 14 years.

YH: (in astonishment) 14 years!

MV: I hadn't played Bruch's violin concerto for 20 years, and I only came back to it 2 years ago. Similarly, I took a break from Mendelssohn's violin concerto for 21 years and returned to it only last year. There are famous violin concertos I haven't played for a long time. Returning to these works after reinforcing my musical experiences with conducting orchestras has been helpful. Nowadays, I hear a symphonic logic in the Mendelssohn concerto, for instance. My playing of this concerto is richer now.

YH: You've also gained experience in opera conducting, too.

MV: Yes. One thing is for sure: I never get bored.

(both laugh)

MV: I can understand when some colleagues limit their repertoire to five or six concertos. They've enjoyed performing this way their whole lives. This is another way to perform. But for me, I could never frame myself this way.

YH: Generally speaking, you take part in such a wide range of musical activities. I don't think I've talked to any other musician who has touched upon music so widely.

(both laugh)

MV: I grew up watching incredible idols, many of whom I can probably never reach.

YH: Are there any idols you're thinking of in particular?

MV: I'll mention just one: George Enescu. He was a famous violinist, pianist, conductor, and teacher. He taught Yehudi Menuhin, Ida Haendel, Arthur Grumiaux, Ivry Gitlis. I can name at least 13 notable pupils. Importantly, he was also a wonderful composer. He took the five professions equally seriously despite living relatively short. These idols showed me the way.

YH: I heard a story that Enescu had so many melodies in his head that he simply couldn't find the time to write them all down. 

MV: That's because his nature as a composer was based on improvisation. Improvisation is a Romanian tradition and was a common practice at the time. Every musician had to improvise. I regret - and I don't regret anything apart from this - that I was not taught how to improvise. I can only wish that younger colleagues can learn something about improvisation.

(Note. For a view regarding the importance of improvisation in music-making, see my interview with Denis Matsuev.)

YH: Beyond improvisation, have you thought of composing music?

MV: This is something for later... definitely.

YH: Are you waiting, then?

MV: I'm waiting, simply because I cannot do everything at the same time. I travel, play, conduct, play, teach.... (MV grins) and I run a family.

(both laugh)



V.

YH: Do you see yourself as being part of a tradition? I am thinking of the Russian tradition, specifically.

MV: Yes. The Russian tradition is there. Yet I travelled the world and took what was dearest to me. There are things I took from France, Austria, Germany, and so on. The Internet is also helpful. Everything develops so fast these days; you can reach out more easily and learn more than you could before.

YH: Talking about traditions, classical music seems to have an odd relationship with traditions. On the one hand, you have to follow traditions by adhering to strict historical systems. Yet you also have to be creative at the same time. How do you balance tradition and creativity, and manage to stand out?

MV: I never try to be innovative or try to be different from others. Inevitably, I am who I am. You have your own voice that you cannot and should not change.

But finding your own voice is a different matter. Finding your own voice that anyone can recognise is the duty of every musician. Think of the great masters. You play a recording and you can immediately say if the performance is played by Heifetz, Horowitz, or Rostropovich. One can unmistakably tell the difference between these unique musical voices.

YH: Does the realisation of one's unique voice happen suddenly? Or is the realisation a gradual process?

MV: It's funny. If you want to find your own voice, you have to master your technique (MV laughs). The right technique will allow you to express yourself in the right way. I know of this great documentary on Pavarotti. The documentary transforms your understanding of the man. In this documentary, Pavarotti says, "when I teach students, I don't talk about philosophy, I don't talk about music. I talk about technique." Once you can get the technique right, the rest comes naturally. With good technique, you can truly open up yourself.

YH: Does your philosophy of technique feed into your own teachings?

MV: Absolutely. I teach my students in the traditional way. You cannot invent a bicycle anymore; the greatest repertoire for the violin is already written. Across a span of four centuries, the sophistication of violin technique peaked at the end of the 19th century. We're talking about Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and so on. Of courses, things went a step further with Shostakovich. In any case, it's good to learn one's technique based on traditional methods.

YH: I can imagine there are different styles of technique required for different times or for different composers. 

MV: Yes. The sets of technique required to play Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert are all different. And then you have Ravel (MV grins). Even if you know how to play everything else, you still don't know Ravel; if you want to play Ravel, you have to learn the violin again. If you don't know how to play Stravinsky, you're not a violinist (MV laughs).

YH: I remember you had a problem with Stravinsky's violin concerto in the past.

MV: You've read my stories very well (MV laughs). This is good.

(both laugh)

MV: Yes, at that time, I took me only four or five days to learn a concerto. For example, Shostakovich's first concerto took me four days to learn. Carl Nielsen's concerto took me five days. Then I thought, "After Nielsen, what else? Stravinsky! How long is it? Only 20 minutes? Piece of cake."

(both laugh)

MV: Nielsen's concerto lasts 38 minutes, and Shostakovich's, 40 minutes. Stravinsky only asks for 20 minutes. I gave myself five days for the Stravinsky concerto. I remember being in Paris for rehearsals for the concerto... and I was not together with the orchestra. I couldn't keep up with the orchestra. Now, I understand why I struggled with this piece so much back then. I had not been acquainted with Stravinsky's style. I was only 23 and I hadn't listened to much Stravinsky until the concert. Stravinsky's style is so unique. For that Paris concert, we had to eventually replace Stravinsky's concerto with Brahms' violin concerto.

(both laugh)

MV: After the incident, I studied Stravinsky's concerto for two weeks. I then performed it with Boulez in London and recorded it with Rostropovich afterwards.

(Note. The theme of celebrated musicians requiring substantially less time than their peers to practice seems a common theme across my interviews. See my interviews with Seong-Jin Cho, Nikolai Lugansky, and Denis Matsuev, for example.)

YH: You talked about the importance of techniques. Yet when I look at your past interviews, a word that you often use when describing music is "soul." What do you mean by "soul"?

MV: Do you mean Seoul as in Seoul, South Korea?

(both laugh)

YH: "Soul" is a wonderful word, but I do not understand what it means. What is "soul" to you?

MV: (after pausing) You can have all the right ingredients of a successful musician. But if you don't have someone behind you who loves what one does, if you don't have someone who is passionate and someone who unconditionally surrenders to music, there's no soul. It's as simple as that. Everything has to be achieved through love. And for love, you have to struggle. The development of one's soul happens through a high degree of love and struggle. That's why, for me, every composition I play and every recording I make is like giving birth to a child. I really feel this way. This intense feeling exists in every step of my music-making; in the case of recordings, I have this feeling from the moment I step into the recording studio until the moment of the album's release.

YH: That's a beautiful answer. I will ask a concluding question. Today we talked a lot about artistic development. Many composers, like Beethoven, have their early, middle, and late periods. If you look at yourself, which period are you in?

MV: The middle, I hope (MV grins).

YH: Well, that can only mean that there is so much to look forward to.

MV: (in Korean) Thank you [Kam-sa-ham-ni-da].

YH: (in Russian) Thank you [Spasiba].





Maxim Vengerov, © Nina Large

Young-Jin Hur
@yjhur1885


© Where Cherries Ripen / Young-Jin Hur