Great conversations: the conductors: Mstislav Rostropovich / Eugene Istomin [video recording]

EUGENE ISTOMIN:

Thank you for participating in this dialogue, to be kept in the archives of the Library of Congress, hopefully forever. It's a particular special honor to have you here with us. Our overall theme is the impact of European music on American music from the beginning of our nation's beginnings up until contemporary times, which is, there the influences come from various different places, but our subject really is the impact of Europe on our culture, especially our music. And then, then vice versa, also the effect that our response to that culture has had in our indigenous, our original culture has had on Europe.

MSTISLAV ROSTROPOVICH:

For me, this influence for American music, what was coming from Russia, even from the beginning, that's so important for me. And I am so proud, as a Russian musician, that a Russian musician made so big an influence to the United States. You know that in Russia, in my country, that was a different period, especially after the revolution. It was not so happy a period for my country. But they'll, their propaganda tells that's only after the revolution that we have something important. But the revolution helped great musicians coming from my country to another country, because the revolution brought so much change, and change for the worse. That's why many people were coming out before the revolution or immediately after the revolution. That was culture coming, emigrating from the Soviet Union. And even for strings players, when coming from the school of Auer, Leopold Auer, ¹ coming here-- Jascha Heifetz, ² Zimbalist, ³ Nathan Milstein, ⁴ even more. And also, coming here, such great cellists like Gregor Piatigorsky. That really was our king at the moment when he came here. Chaliapin ⁵ for vocal, for actors, for opera. Even a composer who made very famous for Russia for making some religious music for Russian Orthodox: Grechaninov. ⁶ And many other people. When I was in Washington for 17 years, in Washington you have a small church, a Russian church. And I made a gift of four or five, I've forgotten, bells, big bells, I made a gift for them. And each of the bells has a name in metal. First, of course, I make Rachmaninoff, ⁷ I make the name in bells of Rachmaninoff. Second, I make the name of Chaliapin. After that, I make the name of Stravinsky, ⁸ and after that I make the name of Grechaninov, because he made much music for the church. And of course, these people make also that next generation, American generation, already incredibly talented people. You have some pupils, your pupils, in the Juilliard School ⁹ and in the Curtis Institute, ¹⁰ also many Russians, until now, who take care for teaching people, their students, and still Russian people in the Juilliard School. And from composers, that's -- I'm sorry that I was a little bit late coming for the greatest generation, for the beginning of composition--for Charles Ives, ¹¹ for another. But I already knew very well personally Aaron Copland. ¹² I told him –he was older than I-- I called him "my American daddy." And my American brother was Lenny Bernstein, ¹³ who was-- I always think about him, always think about him, because he was so, not only a great musician, but he was a very good friend. I never forgot, when I played with him here in Avery Fisher Hall --we played together, he conducted and I played-- and just before we came onto the stage, he gives to me his -- [Russian word: manches] -- I don't know what it means, this part of his...

ISTOMIN:

His cufflinks.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Cufflinks. And he brought the cufflinks to my mouth, and he said: "Kiss my cufflinks!" One and second. I completely -- and just before we go, that big step, one step before the stage. After that...in this composition was a big tutti before I start playing. That's why it kept coming back to my conscience, to my brain, that I had to kiss his cufflinks. And after that, of course first questions. I told him, "Lenny, why must I kiss your cufflinks? Tell me that for me, that still until now, after the concert, is that question." He said, "Because these cufflinks were from Koussevitsky, ¹⁴ they're his cufflinks. And they came to me. And he so much meant to me, Koussevitsky, I always myself kiss these cufflinks, and because he was Russian, I give to you also this privilege." You know, that's also -- Koussevitsky, who made the Boston Orchestra here. That was also a great moment, because Boston is one of the greatest orchestras in the United States, and also coming from Russian roots. Of course, I have some composers who composed for me, also, some compositions. And performers now, here, performers like Yo-Yo, ¹⁵ he has made a fantastic success, and I especially appreciate and admire him, because he also provoked some modern composers to compose for cello. Because cello needed much more repertoire from great composers.

ISTOMIN:

Tell me, Slava, since our subject is not just the great cello playing, but it's also the subject of conducting, and I would like you to tell me what, why you decided to conduct, and your experiences as a conductor, since I consider you a great conductor, besides being a great cellist.

ROSTROPOVICH:

I'll tell you immediately. But maybe a little bit longer answer.

ISTOMIN:

Well, as long as you want.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. You know that my father was a cellist. My mother was a pianist. I was born in Baku [Azerbaijan], and I very early heard music in my memory, because Father and Mother were always rehearsing in our apartment, and when I was very small, I heard music. And that music has come into my heart, into my brain, that was around me, that music came inside to me. And of course, when I was six, after six years old, our family was not rich, and Father would like, in the summertime, for our family to come out from the big city for a little bit like a vacation. My father was a very great cellist, but he was coming to a small orchestra in a small city in Russia. You know, with a spa...

ISTOMIN:

Spa.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. With a spa, with some kind of forest. And Father played in an orchestra in an open area, a symphony orchestra, of course. And since six, seven, eight, nine years old, Father took me to all rehearsals of the orchestra. And I was very proud, because I he gave me a chair and I would sit inside the orchestra. Because Father told the conductor, "That's my son, he likes music, etc. etc." And first, my dream was becoming a conductor. Because...

ISTOMIN:

Ah!

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. First my dream was. And I remember in summertime, from Orienburg, from the Urals -- also to our family was coming my godmother, from Orienburg. And she was a fantastic human being, this godmother. And she would always take me to concerts in the evening. Concert programs. And I would sit with her. And when the orchestra played -- I was seven years old, they played the Tchaikovsky Pathétique symphony. ¹⁶ I cried. I had tears. And my godmother was so touched, and immediately took from her bag some candy. And of course after that I cried even more, for asking for another candy, you know? And that's why I would like, first, to become a conductor. But my father, when I was eight years old, said to me, "Slava, you must start with cello. If you really, in some way, would like to become a conductor, first make a career as a performer. That will help you enormously." And I always, when I played cello, I always had here and here my dream for conducting. Not because I have a special, maybe, talent for conducting, but-- music for orchestra is so phenomenal, so--the greatest music is for orchestra, composed by all composers in the world, great composers. I would like to touch this music. I would like to come to this music also, to participate in this music. That's why my dream I realized in 1960. I made my 1960 program with the third suite of Tchaikovsky for orchestra, ¹⁷ and the Fifth Symphony of Prokofiev. ¹⁸ Because Prokofiev already was my idol, and after he passed away in 1953, I always think about his music, and I know his music very well. I have a small score, pocket score. And in the pocket score of the Fifth Symphony, he wrote to me: "To dear Slava, for memories. How many times did we together hear this symphony?" Because a hundred times, when I lived in his house in summer, we heard records, records of Koussevitsky, records of Rodzinski, ¹⁹ and he always made comments on that. That's why I know how he would like. He was very angry at Koussevitsky. Because in the scherzo, when the recapitulation comes, Prokofiev would like it to start very slow, this recapitulation. But Koussevitsky in the record made it tempo primo. And Prokofiev was furious.

ISTOMIN:

[sings]

ROSTROPOVICH:

[sings] The scherzo. That started-- [sings] and faster and faster. But Koussevitsky made it: [sings]. And Prokofiev was furious. But maybe even of more help to me was my experience as a cellist. I'll tell you why. Because as a cellist, I played with the most fantastic conductors of our time. Mitropoulous. ²⁰ Pierre Monteux ²¹ conducting with me, also the first performance, Shostakovich Concerto ²² in Amsterdam. He was very old already. If you-- of course you remember, in Amsterdam, all artists come to the stage from many, many stairs. And when I came-- when I performed there with Monteux, Pierre Monteux, he told me, "Slava, I understand. I am only the conductor, but you are the soloist. But I go so slowly down these stairs. Maybe you stay upstairs, and see when I have the last three steps, you jump." And coming first-- it was like a sport, you know. And I came first to my place. And of course, these conductors--because I play, as a cellist, the same repertoire more or less, and I see how a conductor is conducting, for example, the same Dvorák concerto. ²³ I played this concerto with Pierre Monteux, with Charles Munch. ²⁴ I played it with, of course, Karajan, ²⁵ who was my dear friend. And with Karajan-- when I conducted in East Berlin with the Bolshoi Theatre, Eugene Onegin, ²⁶ Karajan in that moment was making a record, of course in West Berlin. But he would like to see how I was conducting. And he stopped the record and came into East Berlin for the second act of Eugene Onegin. And after the second act, he told me, "I must go and continue my record session." But he asked me, "Slava, you have some problem as conductor, in opera, for example." I tell him, "Yes. My dear, I have one problem. And a very strange problem." Because if-- of course, you know Eugene Onegin. There's one choir in the first act: "Uzk kak po mostu, mostouchku." [Sings.] There's the same music played by the orchestra, and the same music is sung in unison by the choir, and always they weren't together. I tried everything. I tried conducting a little bit "swimming," you know, not exact. Maybe that would help? No, it didn't help. I conducted very precise. Also not help. Not together. And I told Karajan. I told him, "You know, Herbert, I have only one problem, but I am sick about this problem." And he asked me, "Slava, tell me, that choir stays far from the orchestra on stage?" I tell him, "Yes, they're far." He said, "Well, you know what you need. Take, when you're conducting, your hand very high, and conduct only the choir-- it's important for the orchestra to not see your hands. And you must tell the orchestra: Please, play in your ears. Because the sound from the choir will come a little bit late to the orchestra. If both play with my hands, they won't be together." And before the next performance, I had no rehearsal. I only told the orchestra, "Please, I will conduct the choir very high with my hands, and you just play what you hear from the choir." For the first time, they were together. It was fantastic! Once, I asked Leinsdorf, I asked him, ²⁷ "What, how must I make the first beat for the Fifth Symphony of Shostakovich? ²⁸ Because after the first beat comes..." [he sings] "How do I best make... big auftakt ²⁹ or small auftakt?" He told me, "Slava, show to me how you start the Dvorák concerto, your solo. Show." I do-- my bow does...[he gestures]. And he said: "Exactly. Show like that." You know? That's why my experience with great conductors is an enormous help to me, because, of course, if I play with great conductors, I'm not playing only for myself, I'm playing for music made together. That's why that's helped me enormously.

ISTOMIN:

I can tell you a little anecdote of my own on that same subject of what to do with impossible, so-called impossible situations. I was playing the Schumann piano concerto, ³⁰ which is very, very, very delicate, and very difficult, particularly in the last movement, the ensemble between the orchestra and the piano. And the second theme--I had conductors tell me, "Well, here I beat in, this in two, and I beat this in, this way, and this way and that way." And then I came to Chicago, and Fritz Reiner ³¹ was there in Chicago, and I said, "What do you do when you come to this place?" And he looked at me and he said, "I stop conducting."

ROSTROPOVICH:

[Laughs.] Great. That's enormous help. Enormous help.

ISTOMIN:

That's the secret. With a good orchestra. With a good orchestra.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes.

ISTOMIN:

As a cellist, you have for a long time already been in the pantheon of the greatest cellists in history.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Oh. Too much.

ISTOMIN:

Well, it's simply true. It's simply true.

ROSTROPOVICH:

You've forgotten about Pablo Casals. ³²

ISTOMIN:

Yes, well, you are the only one who is in his, belongs to have his name mentioned in the same way, not only for what you've done for the cello, but what you were and what you are as a human being.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. I feel like a son...

ISTOMIN:

It's a very, very special place you have, that. But not only as an innovator and a great, great, great cellist, but also as someone who has enhanced and commissioned so many works for the cello, which I suppose he did, too, but no one did as much as you did, and have done, and continue to do.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes.

ISTOMIN:

We are at a stage now where there is European culture and Asian culture and African culture, and all the cultures are mixed up...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes.

ISTOMIN:

...into one world, sort of one world culture...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Exactly right.

ISTOMIN:

...which is, no longer uses the folk material for a Hungarian music, a Russian music, and so forth.

ROSTROPOVICH:

A hundred years ago, only a hundred years ago, the Russian people who lived in a village, in Russian village, could possibly marry with a girl who didn't live longer than 50 miles from his village, because he could possibly made a connection only with horses, between him and the area near him. That's why, a hundred years ago, all family was pure Russian family, mostly. Now, what? Just now, I am coming from Paris, now, one hour before, from Paris, on the Concorde. I was still coming to the Concorde at 10:30, on the Concorde from Paris, but I arrived here the same day at 8:30. That's two hours before I left, the same day. You know, I also made a joke with my wife. I told her, "If I died in Paris, you must immediately take my body to the Concorde, and with my friends, make a charter on the Concorde, and take me to the United States." She says, "Why?" She didn't understand completely. I said, "Because I would like to come to New York two hours before I died." Yes. Now this mobile telephone-- that's a miracle. And now they're coming with a TV screen. It's possible to call from New York to Tokyo and speak with your girlfriend and see how she's speaking on a small TV screen. That makes our planet very small. When I came into my first competition, international competition, 1947 in Prague, for the first time I saw young cellists from France, young cellists from Germany, young cellists from, for example, Italy. And it was not needed to tell me which nationality these young cellists have. I see how they play, and say, that's the French school for cello. That's the English school for cello. Because that was so different. Different endpin, a little bit, different position of the cello, different kind of style of performance. But now that we all have one school for cello for the whole world, each country takes the best qualities of the other countries, because we have very good connections now. Before, you had no connections so great, because technically it was difficult, connections between countries. And now we have, of course, unified cello school, more or less unified piano school, violin school, unified for the whole world. Of course, that's one reason that we have lost a little bit of what you call the national character of the music. But in any case, it's really not possible to stop our development, technical development. And technical development makes our planet small, and makes our planet for one family. If before, each country was like a separate house, now we're all in a condominium apartment all together. We have only one room for each country, but we're now together. And I think that because we're so close, each country to another, we must, first of all, take care for culture for another, our neighbors.

ISTOMIN:

Something that I miss very much in this new one world music is the quality of singing-- singing, and each country sings in its own, sang in its own way. And we were speaking about Tchaikovsky, which is quintessential Russian, what we used to call Russian in the past. Sérénade mélancolique, which is a definition of what the Russian soul is, and sad, and happy to be sad, all of that. We don't have that. If we have it, we have it in kind of a pop music that is somehow seems harder, coarser, cheaper. The same quality that makes vegetables that are grown in a hothouse different to the taste than vegetables that are grown in nature. And that fragile quality which was -- up until today, when people don't want to feel, they want to try to, not to feel so much. This is a cool period. And the great Western art, anyway, up until now, including music, had exactly the opposite: the tremendous drama and wonderful things that happened through the artistic experience and the musical experience. First in the beginning was the singing.

ROSTROPOVICH:

I think about your questions-- very difficult questions, and very intelligent questions. But I must tell you something about that. You know, I am also a little bit worried now, because now, in Russia, in my country, pop music, in big plazas, in each city the biggest plaza, and enormously loud, so loud that you don't understand anything. But you know, for this are coming 100,000 young people, 100,000, more -- and sometimes a half million are coming. Before, when you started and I started, we had not so many people who were coming to any kind of concert. But now, because of this enormous development of technology, all people can come to something together, you know? One is educated as an economist, another has an education as, I don't know, a driver, etc. I sometimes come to these concerts in plazas out of interest. You know, all the people, 95 percent are the same age, same generation-- the same generation that would like to make something with energy. You know, energy. But I think that after the same generation-- after they've gone a little bit deaf, after that-- they would like hear a little bit more, a little bit more quality than that. And from these millions of people will come an elite much more, I hope, than we have an elite. But that will come a little bit later-- after, maybe, after 10 years, after 15 years. Because in my country, for example, after everything is possible-- freedom for speaking, freedom for everything, freedom for making a concert, sometimes with old-fashioned tails, sometimes completely naked. You know? That means this kind of freedom, that people must be coming all together for something, but after that must be subdivided. Some people are coming, developed, for great music, coming to Beethoven, coming to Tchaikovsky, coming to Shostakovich, to Prokofiev, to Charles Ives, etc., for great composers, you know? Even if that's pop music, we have very great and very talented examples, also. For example, I think that The Beatles, in that time, were really great in this kind of genre, in this kind. I, for example, have my friend Elton John. I think that he also has talent for that, you know? We have also in this kind of style of music, we also have great and we have absolutely without any talent, you know.

ISTOMIN:

By the way, I have, I have something to show you. I should have brought it here today: a book of articles by the, the editor of the Musical Courier, a music magazine in the United States in the 1920, in the 1930s. And you, I'm sure that there will be things in there about -- because Prokofiev is in that book a lot. He speaks about Prokofiev before -- this was in 1934, '36.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Oh, yes.

ISTOMIN:

It's about his concerts and about all of that. And when you think of what an extraordinary career he had, and why did he go back?

ROSTROPOVICH:

About Prokofiev, I'll tell you something interesting. When I was in his dacha -- I lived with him five years. In the early spring, he asked me to come to his house, his country house, his dacha. Until late autumn. And once, in more difficult years after 1948, when Prokofiev one day told me, "Slava, I have no more money for breakfast." That's the truth. And he-- yes, that's the truth. I swear to you. I tell you his words. Yes. And you know, after that, when we walked, I asked him very precisely and very directly. I said, "Sergei Sergeyich, you don't think that you were mistaken, that you came back to this country?" And it was very interesting, his response was for me. I remember each word. He said, "No, Slava. I don't think it was my mistake." I said, "Why? You have no money for life now." He said, "You know, because I am a composer, I make something, something is created in my life. And if a creator creates something in his country, then the country would much more understand his production." And that's very interesting. Because even now, I tell you, I think that Stravinsky is also a phenomenal genius. But he was not, until now, so popular, like a Prokofiev, in our country. Because Prokofiev composed in his country, inside. And that's how he had some contact. He composed for people around him. And people who were around him knew him, and heard his music, you know?

ISTOMIN:

But people, people have more difficulty with Stravinsky not because he was not in his country; he spent most of his life in France or Switzerland, or in the United States. But it's also because his music is more...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Raffiné? ³³

ISTOMIN:

Raffiné and demands a kind of sophistication with...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Exactly!

ISTOMIN:

...whereas Prokofiev is energy and power and sarcastic and lyricism, wonderful lyricism...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. Yes. Fantastic lyricism.

ISTOMIN:

...all the things that Prokofiev was. But it's easier. That's what's so amazing, the fact that the government went after him because he was not -- of course, I don't know the works that he wrote. By the way, this book of the 1930s mentions the fact that he was writing a cello concerto.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Ah, yes. I know...

ISTOMIN:

You know about that?

ROSTROPOVICH:

I played this concerto, yes. I played this concerto.

ISTOMIN:

But isn't that, that's not the Sinfonía Concertante? ³⁴

ROSTROPOVICH:

No, no. That's different, different. Completely different. Completely different. It has only some bars-- I'll tell you a story about that. When I was loving Prokofiev's music like crazy, I was a student. After I received first prize in a competition in Soviet Russia, I wanted to play this first concerto for cello by Prokofiev. But in Soviet Russia, I couldn't find the score. I didn't know where the score was. But I so liked to play his music, and I learned this concerto, and played in my recital, with piano, the first concerto. And Prokofiev came to hear his concerto, and it was the first time he heard how I performed. This concerto was on the 18th of January, 1948. I remember. And after I performed, Prokofiev came backstage to me. And he said, "You know, Slava, I like very much all the musical material, all the musical material in this composition, but I don't like the construction. The construction was not good. If you accept, I would like to change this composition, change the construction, and I ask that you be a consultant for me for cello." I made no response to him, because I became like an angel to the sky for this proposition. But after three weeks came these rules --on the 10th of February-- against Prokofiev, and Prokofiev was so--didn't understand what happened. Shostakovich understood what happens, because it already was not the first time for him. But Prokofiev was very naïve. He didn't understand, what would we want from him. That's why he didn't compose anything in this period. And after, in 1949, for me composed Miaskovsky -- Nikolai Miaskovsky, ³⁵ a great composer -- he composed for me the second sonata for cello and piano. And only after one year, when I first performed the Miaskovsky sonata, Miaskovsky came to the concert with his friend Prokofiev. But Prokofiev was already different after these rules, after February. And after I performed, Prokofiev came backstage and told me, "Slava, I would like, for you, now, to compose a sonata." And he composed for me a sonata after that. And only after the sonata did he come back to the cello concerto. And he was so excited for this cello concerto, when he started. And he came to me when I was in Moscow, and in the summer I was with him, and he said to me, "Slava, I am so happy. Come to me." Each two days he came to me or I came to him, and he showed me how he changed it. And he made another melody, another piece of material, and he said, "Slava, I am so excited about it. I've made another composition. And I will make this composition Cello Concerto Number Two." And I performed Cello Concerto Number Two in Moscow, with a scandalous reaction to this. Official people said, "Prokofiev is still a formalist. That's very bad composition, and that's-- we are not happy still with his style. That's not the style of social realism." And I was so worried about that, because I told Prokofiev that it was a genius composition. And when I came after the concert to him, he told me, "Slava, I would like to do two things. I would to make it a little bit different for this cello concerto. I know what to change here. And I would like also to compose for you a very, very easy small concerto for cello, that's so easy that for you it would be possible to play with a brass band...[speaks in Russian]."

ISTOMIN:

Fire...firemen.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Da. Brass band for fire, firemen, da. So easy. I will make for you some concerto, a small concerto. And that he composed, Concertino for cello. Of course, not for brass band. For small symphony orchestra. And after that, he changed the second concerto for cello. He gave it a new name: Sinfonía Concertante. That's the third time he changed it.

ISTOMIN:

Ah.

ROSTROPOVICH:

And the first performance was after his death. The first performance was in Copenhagen on the 4th of December, 1954, I think.

ISTOMIN:

So that's how the cello concerto, the first cello concerto...

ROSTROPOVICH:

Became the second cello concerto.

ISTOMIN:

And then the firemen's little thing?

ROSTROPOVICH:

Da, da. And Sinfonía Concertante. That's fantastic.

ISTOMIN:

It's a fantastic story, a fantastic evolution.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Evolution, yes.

ISTOMIN:

Evolution.

ROSTROPOVICH:

: And interesting, another thing. I must tell you-- because I never told you this story. And Shostakovich thought that the Sinfonía Concertante was absolutely one of the most genius compositions of Prokofiev of all. And Shostakovich was always coming to my performances, to concerts, when I played Sinfonía Concertante. And after the concert -- we were, of course, coming in Moscow together, to his house or to my house, to my apartment. And Shostakovich was so excited, and said to me, "You know, Slava, in the finale of the Sinfonía Concertante, fantastic sound, cello with celeste. ³⁶ That's so interesting." And in the first concerto of Shostakovich, before the cadenza, the cello plays a big do with celeste. That's -- I know from where that was coming. And you know, even the finale, that's the ending, of Sinfonía Concertante, in that ending, the cello makes very high passages, and the timpani makes one beat [sings] with the Gran Cassa, ³⁷ and then it stops. And Shostakovich used to tell me, "You know, Slava, how fantastic. You make such, such high passages, then one big bam! And it's all finished." And his cello concerto, the first cello concerto, made seven beats of timpani instead of the one of Prokofiev. That's why I know: How does excitement come from one composer to another? That's not the same music at all, that's different music. But I know that Shostakovich so admired this. And when Shostakovich made -- I didn't know about this first cello concerto of Shostakovich. I read in the newspaper, because Shostakovich made some interview, and said: "I finished the cello concerto, but I made this concerto because I was so excited with Sinfonía Concertante of Prokofiev." That's his first...and after that, much later, I came to him, to his home, and he told me, "Slava, I have something to show you." And he had my record with Sanderling ³⁸ of Sinfonía Concertante--an old record. And he took it to the machine, the record player. And instead of my sound came: [makes a crackling noise], he said, "Slava, you understand how many times I heard this record." [They laugh.]

ROSTROPOVICH:

About Shostakovich. ³⁹ You know, I knew him from the first time I was in his class as a student, 1943, when I was coming from evacuation to Moscow. I came to the student conservatorium in 1943. And you know, he was-- after that, we became as friends. But in this period, yeah, I knew Shostakovich was a genius. I knew. But you know, in my life, I was so close with him. We'd drink vodka together. We'd speak of something together: jokes, sometimes jokes, a little bit dangerous for...

ISTOMIN:

Mixed company.

ROSTROPOVICH:

...normal society, yes. You know? But now, I told Galina. You know, after he died, if he came back to our earth, to our life, and told me, "Slava, come here to my table. Drink vodka with me," I would not come with him. Because now I understand more how he was great, that in that time, when we were friends. Now I understand how great he was. And it was verboten to perform all compositions in Russia of these two composers. You know? That's why I tell you, sometimes we don't understand if in our time comes a genius. And I think: If, for example, Shostakovich was very happy in his life, and there didn't come that campaign against him, you know? After his Lady Macbeth, ⁴⁰ after his Symphony Number Eight. ⁴¹ Maybe he would not have composed so tragic and so deep and so suffering music. Maybe he would not have become such a great composer, also. And that's-- only with this kind of, of battles between people who don't understand and geniuses. You've got many, many examples. For sculpture, for painting, for literature. Only after death, people cry: "He was a genius. We didn't know about it." And for me a genius conductor is already one who makes an influence not for the instrument, he is not conducting the instrument, he is conducting the musician. And that's the difference between a genius conductor and a no-genius conductor. A no-genius conductor makes only rhythm and sometimes character. A genius conductor hypnotizes another musician, for he understands the emotion of the conductor without his gesture, even. You know? Gestures, that of course will help. But he can possibly embrace in some kind of hypnosis all the musicians in the orchestra, and the orchestra makes the music that he likes, the conductor. Because an orchestra without the conductor-- it's impossible to make music, if you like. My opinion. Long time ago existed in Soviet Russia one orchestra that was named Persimfans. Persimfans, that meant "first symphony ensemble." This ensemble played, without a conductor, all the repertoire. But not for a long time, because that's death. Because with 40 or 60 or 100 musicians, not united with one, one interpretation, that becomes chaos, doesn't become anything. That's why if a conductor has something of hypnosis to give his feeling, his emotion of music to the musicians-- that's genius. And I know such conductors. He sometimes stops conducting, but the orchestra plays exactly what he likes. Because they have some contact with some more, a higher level. That's geniuses. But it's possible for an orchestra to make miracles. If you ask the orchestra. For example, the second movement of the fifth symphony of Tchaikovsky. ⁴² It starts with, before the horn plays the melody, it starts with the strings. Da. And I tell the strings, "You know, friends, I make only very unclear my gesture, very unclear. Like I make a green light for cars in traffic, the traffic light green. When you like, you go. When you don't like, don't go. I only give to you a green light. You start when you like. But together. And start from -- don't make a border between silence and sound, because silence must become sound completely unclearly." And people hypnotize each to another, the string section. And pianissimo, like a miracle, comes-- a first sound that's absolutely incredible. The orchestra makes it itself. Because they make, you know, make contact each to another, and it becomes a miracle.

ISTOMIN:

And I think that our talk and your participation in this is going to make its own kind of history, at least in the Library of Congress, dealing with the great treasures that the Library possesses, as you know: the manuscripts, and the instruments, and so many fantastic things--

ROSTROPOVICH:

Yes. Yes.

ISTOMIN:

And this series will be a kind of photograph of the way we think, some of the finest people of our generation feel about music today and its future. And in speaking to you as one of the really, truly historic people, I'm very greatly honored and grateful.

ROSTROPOVICH:

Thank you. Zhenya, I must tell you, when they asked me about speaking with you, I didn't know anything about what we must speak about. Because I so loved you, and so admired you, that anything-- I would come and I would be very happy to see you. I see you look fantastic, healthy, and thank you that you invited me. Thank you.

ISTOMIN:

Thank you.

---

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FOOTNOTES:

1 Leopold Auer (1845-1930). Hungarian violinist and teacher. Back to transcript

2 Jascha Heifetz (1901-1987). Russian-born American violinist. Back to transcript

3 Efrem Zimbalist (1890-1985). Russian-born American violinist, composer, and teacher. Back to transcript

4 Nathan Milstein (1904-1992). Ukranian-born American violinist. Back to transcript

5 Fyodor Chaliapin (1873-1938). Russian bass. Back to transcript

6 Aleksandr Tikhonovich Grechaninov (1864-1956). Russian composer. Back to transcript

7 Serge Rachmaninoff (1873-1943). Russian composer, pianist and conductor. Back to transcript

8 Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971). Russian composer, later of French (1934) and American (1945) nationality. Back to transcript

9 Juilliard School: New York conservatory founded in 1905. Back to transcript

10 Curtis Institute of Music: Conservatory founded in 1924 in Philadelphia. Back to transcript

11 Charles Ives (1874-1954). American composer. Back to transcript

12 Aaron Copland (1900-1990). American composer, writer on music, pianist and conductor. Back to transcript

13 Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990). American composer, conductor and pianist. Back to transcript

14 Serge Koussevitzky (1874-1951). Russian-born American conductor and double bass player. Back to transcript

15 Yo-Yo Ma (1955- ). American cellist of Chinese origin. Back to transcript

16 Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky, Symphony no. 6, op. 74, B Minor. Back to transcript

17 Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky, Suite for orchestra, no. 3, op. 55, G Major. Back to transcript

18 Sergey Prokofiev, Symphony no. 5, op. 100, B-flat Major. Back to transcript

19 Artur Rodzinski (1892-1958). Polish-born American conductor. Back to transcript

20 Dimitri Mitropoulos (1896-1960). Greek-born American conductor, pianist and composer. Back to transcript

21 Pierre Monteux (1875-1964). French-born American conductor. Back to transcript

22 Dmitry Shostakovich, Cello concerto no. 2, op. 126. Back to transcript

23 Antonin Dvorák, Cello concerto, op. 104, B Minor. Back to transcript

24 Charles Munch (1891-1968). French conductor and violinist. Back to transcript

25 Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989). Austrian conductor. Back to transcript

26 Eugene Onegin, opera by Tchaikovsky. Back to transcript

27 Erich Leinsdorf (1912-1993). Austrian-born American conductor. Back to transcript

28 Dimitri Shostakovich, Symphony no. 5, op. 47, D Minor. Back to transcript

29 Auftakt: upbeat. Back to transcript

30 Robert Schumann, Piano concerto, op. 54, A Minor. Back to transcript

31 Fritz Reiner (1888-1963). Hungarian-born American conductor of Hungarian birth. Back to transcript

32 Pablo Casals (1876-1973). Catalan cellist, conductor, pianist, and composer. Back to transcript

33 Raffiné: refined. Back to transcript

34 Sergey Prokofiev, Symphony-Concerto, op. 125, E Minor. Back to transcript

35 Nikolay Miaskovskii (1881-1950). Russian composer, critic and teacher. Back to transcript

36 Celeste: a keyboard instrument invented by Auguste Mustel in 1886 in which metal plates (usually steel) suspended over resonating boxes are struck by hammers and sustained after the manner of the piano action. Back to transcript

37 Gran cassa: bass drum. Back to transcript

38 Kurt Sanderling (b. 1912). German conductor. Back to transcript

39 Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975). Russian composer. Back to transcript

40 Dmitri Shostakovich, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, op. 29. Opera. Back to transcript

41 Dmitri Shostakovich, Symphony no. 8, op. 65, C Minor. Back to transcript

42 Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky, Symphony no. 5, op. 64, E minor. Back to transcript

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