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Maxim Vengerov

"...not coming back to the violin would be equal to saying that I don’t want to speak Russian anymore! The violin is still part of my life ..."

 Old Soul Violinist

Jetsetters Magazine 2002

Twenty-seven-year-old Russian violinist Maxim Vengerov starts his second encore of his solo performance by dragging a chair out from backstage at Davies Symphony Hall, in San Francisco.

"I have been performing since I was five years old," he says in lightly accented English. "It is a great privilege to play for audiences like you, and you come to hear me play. Between us there is music. But I never get to communicate in words. So, he sits casually and crosses his legs, "I want to talk to you. Ask me some questions."

So starts an extraordinary conversation between a remarkable old soul violinist and 1,500 of his closest friends. One person asks why he held his bow so high during the first number, Bach's 'Toccata and Fugue in D minor'. Written originally for the organ, this complicated piece requires a specially rounded bow to make the playing easier, he replies. "And you may have noticed that I did not play that piece on my Baroque violin. It's ill with all the changes in humidity and weather."

"Tell us about your violin," another person tosses across the nearly sold out auditorium. "My instrument was made in Crimea in 1727 by Antonio Stradivarius. It is an ex-Kreisler instrument, meaning that it once belonged to the great violinist, Fritz Kreisler. And I was lucky enough to get it at Christie's auction in 1998." This raises murmurs of appreciation from the audience.

"Will you compose in the future?" Vengerov chuckles, "I'm not very popular in the composing world because I like tonal music, music that has a melody that you can take home with you." The audience cheers in agreement.

"Tell us about your UNICEF work." Vengerov loses his characteristic smile and light-hearted nature. "I have traveled to Uganda, Thailand, and Kosovo and seen what terrible things have happened to the children there. Some have lost limbs; some have lost the ability to speak. They have no expressions. Then I see what music can do for them. They start to dance, smile and forget their worries. Here, I will play for you what I played for them." And he plays 'Balalaika', a piece completely plucked, to his third standing ovation.

Maxim Vengerov, then, is an unusual mixture of boyish charm and old-world mastery. He opened his concert with Bach's 'Toccata and Fugue in D-Minor', which has been made famous by organ-playing vampires and monsters everywhere. I was wondering how a single violinist, surrounded by an empty stage and an anticipatory audience, would bring the fugue to life with just one bow and four strings. Before long, I had completely forgotten that there was only one person performing, as the varying melodies danced and intertwined.

The program was built on Vengerov's love of Bach and melody, and included a Russian composition 'Echo - Sonata for Solo Violin, Opus 69' by Rodion Shchedrin. The program notes state: The Echo Sonata refers back to Bachs music for solo violin - it is an echo of Bach's music. "I first played this piece when I was 10 years old," he says. "I memorized it because I wanted to impress the composer, who was in the audience. As you will see, it's still very difficult to memorize." Written to challenge the stoutest of violinists, Shchedrin filled the piece with a flurry of wildly spinning melodies, requiring exacting nimbleness of mind and finger.

The rest of the program showcased four of the six sonatas, written by Eugene Ysaye, a talented Belgian violinist who wrote each of the pieces for different virtuosos. 'The Sonata No. 2 in A Minor, Opus 27, no. 2' is dedicated to Jacques Thibaud, who was "one of Ysaye's spiritual children," according to the program notes. "And this is perhaps why the music takes is such a 'soul-searching work' filled with rue and a dance of furies."

The program notes that "'The Sonata in D minor, Opus 27, no. 3, Ballade' is dedicated to George Enescu, the Rumanian composer and violist whose friendship became increasingly vital to Ysaye in his later years, as the musical establishment became dismissive and his gifts - this is a spectacular concentrated music that offers varied characters - from the spare, agonized outset to the fabulously technical run-to-the-finish. To hear Gypsy elements in the music is to hear it as homage to the dedicatee."

"'The Sonata in E minor, Opus 27, no. 4' is dedicated to Fritz Kreisler," the program continues, "a violinist who combined virtuosity with a ferociously expressive insight, and also wrote light and lighthearted Viennese parlor pieces - the music of this piece is pure and unaffected. The final moments are obsessive, intense and delirious."

The final piece of the concert was written in tribute to Manual Quiroga, a Spanish violinist in the "great tradition of Sarasate." It was dashing and full of bravado, honoring Quiroga's popular in Europe and the United States. "There is a touch of obviously Spanish music and the piece captures a youthful, optimistic spirit."

What else is there to do in Western Siberia?

Vengerov made his debut with the San Francisco Symphony in 1994, playing the Sibelius Violin Concerto. Born in 1974 in Novosibirsk, the capital of Western Siberia, Maxim Vengerov won first prize in the Junior Wieniawski Competition in Poland at age ten and went on to become a student of Zakhar Bron. He came to international attention in 1989, when he gave an acclaimed recital at Amsterdam's Concertgebouw. This was soon followed by recital debuts at London's Wigmore Hall, Tokyo's Suntory Hall, and Salzburg's Mozarteum. Today, Vengerov appears around the world with major orchestras and in recital.

Highlights of recent seasons include a performance of Rodion Shchedrin's Concerto Cantabile (composed for Vengerov), a trio concert with Daniel Barenboim and Yo-Yo Ma in Chicago, and a European tour with the English Chamber Orchestra, in which Vengerov performed for the first time as conductor and soloist. Maxim Vengerov has released many solo and orchestral albums for Teldec Classics.

In 1996 he received two Grammy nominations for his recording of the first concertos of Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Vengerov currently records exclusively for EMI Classics. Maxim Vengerov regularly gives master classes and he is the subject of a television documentary, "Playing by Heart", produced in the United Kingdom and featured at the 1999 Cannes Television Festival.

At the end of the Sonata No. 4, dedicated to Fritz Kreisler, Vengerov pauses. "I come from the Russian school of music - always, always practicing. And I want to tell you a story about Fritz Kreisler." A boyish grin crosses his face: he's letting us in on a secret and enjoying spilling the gossip. "Kreisler didn't like to practice. He did it as little as he could get away with. And Rachmaninov, the great pianist, well, he came from the same school as mine: 'Practice, practice, practice'.

"So one day, they are scheduled to play a concert together at Carnegie Hall in New York City. Rachmaninov wants to rehearse several times and, of course, Kreisler hems and haws and wiggles out of committing to practicing. Rachmaninov tries several times to arrange some practice times. 'After all, this is Caregie Hall,' he pleads with Kreisler. Finally, they settle on a rehearsal. Just one, the morning of the performance. Rachmaninov is not happy about it, but at least they get one rehearsal.

"At the concert, they start playing and before long, Kreisler loses his place in the music. He can't remember where they are and what he's supposed to do next. He strolls casually over to Rachmaninov, and says: 'Where are we?'

"And Rachmaninov whispers: 'In Carnegie Hall.'" Vengerov grins. He knows he has won the audience for the evening.

Then he picks up his bow again, and despite his youthful age, Vengerov plays like an old master. Indeed, he has such a delicate and dynamic touch, that the violin seems to play itself. Vengerov seems only to be a foil for the instrument. Especially throughout difficult sections, he seems almost to stand back from the violin indicating, "See, see what my violin can do? Isn't that neat?" Other times, it's as though he and the violin disappear completely, and all that is left is music.

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