This is what happens when you interview two engaging, bright, charming violinists in one day. You touchtone your way to Salzburg, via an operator who first thinks you’re calling Scranton or some such place, but finally a hotel receptionist is saying something to you in a language that doesn’t sound anything like what Governor Schwarznegger speaks.
Then there is this ebullient, friendly voice – Leonidas Kavakos – who is thrilled to talk about the Korngold he’s playing next week. He says the nicest things about the orchestra, how St. Louis has the most supportive musicians with the loveliest, most rich tone. He talks about how Gilbert Varga is an ideal conductor to be working with since he knows the violin. Varga is a violinist himself and the son of the great Tibor Varga, “steeped in the Central European tradition” says Kavakos.
Kavakos says he is so honored to be playing this work that received its world premiere with the SLSO and Jascha Heifetz nearly sixty years ago. He speaks Heifetz's name like it is one of the sacred words, nearly taboo to say out loud.
He talks about how he was invited to play Korngold as part of a documentary that was filmed in Europe. It sounds as if Korngold is getting a bigger rebirth of interest than in the United States. Kavakos calls the violin concerto romantic but with a real intelligence. He’s awed by the harmonies the composer creates.
It’s one of those interviews where you know the subject could go on for another half-an-hour and say smart, interesting things, but for your purpose you’ve got enough and say thanks, see you when you get here, and know that this is a musician that is going to be really fun to hear.
Time passes. You go to have coffee with Alison Harney, Principal Second Violin, who plays the Mozart Fifth Violin Concerto, with Nic McGegan conducting, in January. And she, too, has intriguing things to say from the violinist realm. “It’s in there,” she says of this concerto she has known since she was twelve. You mention the violinist you spoke with earlier in the morning and Harney exclaims, “He’s brilliant.”
And the tape winds along in your recorder. You walk back to the parking lot knowing you’ve got good stuff to transcribe later in the week.
Time passes. You rewind the tape, knowing that you interviewed Kavakos in the morning and then Harney in the afternoon on the same tape. You hit play and all you hear is Harney as she begins her story of life as a prodigy in the Mojave desert.
You taped over Kavakos. You can't go on. You go on.
