Cellist Has Impact on Music

Apr 01, 10:38 AM

Current Headlines: By Martin Steinberg Associated Press

NEW YORK -- Mstislav "Slava" Rostropovich, the ailing giant of the cello who turned 80 last week, has had a deep impact on music. His charismatic personality and impassioned playing have inspired audiences, composers and fellow musicians for decades.

Years ago, David Finckel, the Emerson String Quartet's cellist and co-artistic director of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, stalked the Russian master. He would go from city to city to see Rostropovich perform and then go backstage to speak with him. Eventually, Rostropovich took on Finckel as a student.

Finckel, 55, spoke with The Associated Press about studying with Slava.

AP: You first met him in New York, when the Soviets allowed him to perform abroad. How did you meet him?

Finckel: I was probably 11 or 12 years old. I'd barely just started the cello but I had been passed these recordings (of Rostropovich) by my uncle, who was a cellist. (He) said to my father, ... "Have David listen to this because this is how the cello should really be played." ... At any rate, my mother took me to Carnegie Hall. We sat up top and he came out and played the Dvorak Cello Concerto, and to me it was like a rock concert. When he first started coming here to play, people had never heard anything like it. It was an absolute shock. (Afterward) my mother convinced me to come backstage. ... I said, "I'm too scared to meet this guy." "Well," she said, "we'll just stand over here in the shadows." ... We stood there patiently, and all of a sudden the door right next to us opened up, and out he came with his cello and his coat on and a big fur hat. (He) put his cello down, put the music on it, came over and extended his hand and said, "Thank you for coming to my concert." We were absolutely dumbstruck. He shook hands with both of us, went back and picked up his stuff and charged out the door into some car. (Fans) were chasing him. That was just about the coolest thing I had ever seen.

AP: How did you arrange to study with him?

Finckel: After the initial meeting, where he was so nice to me, I just said to my mother and father, "Well I just have to go to every concert." So they let me go, and as soon as I was old enough to take the train or bus, I'd go to Boston or Hartford and I would follow his itinerary around and after the concert would show up backstage and stand in the line.

AP: You would go from New Jersey?

Finckel: Yeah. Pretty soon he would see the same kid in the line night after night in all these cities. He started to recognize me and know my name. It struck him funny but I guess it meant something to him because he didn't see the same people in different cities besides me, except probably the KGB (the Soviet secret police) and his manager. When he went to Philadelphia eventually and played with the orchestra a series of four concerts, the woman I was studying with at the time, Elsa Hilger, invited him over to dinner at her house. I was staying with her at the time, going to all the rehearsals and concerts. He brought his pianist with him to dinner. ... After dinner, I played the Schumann concerto with his pianist, with him sitting on the couch 7 inches away. ... After that, anytime I would ask to play for him he would hear me. We had lessons in all the oddest places -- backstage and in the hotel room, in green rooms, anywhere. He never refused me. He never refused a lesson and he never would take anything in return, not money, nothing.

AP: How long were they?

Finckel: As long as it took. I don't ever recall him saying, "I have to go." But usually it was to play through a piece. Once in a while he would stop me on some tiny technical point and make sure I knew he was listening. But in general he didn't give me any technical advice. He didn't tell me how to hold the bow, he didn't tell me what fingers to use or what bowing to use, anything. He only would talk about the music, about the composers and get me to give more and more of myself. So very quickly in the lessons you were on a freight train you couldn't get off. When he was done he was done, and I never knew what time it was. I would walk out of there in another place, another person every time.

AP: That's incredible. How long did it go on?

Finckel: For about nine years.

AP: What's Rostropovich's impact on music?

Finckel: In a subjective, quantitative way, he enlarged the literature of the cello more than probably any instrumentalist has ever enlarged the instrument's literature save for composers themselves. The number of works that he inspired and begged composers to write has given the cello a completely different profile than it had prior to him. He picked up from where (Pablo) Casals left off in terms of popularizing the instrument as a solo instrument. Casals did that. People like Casals and (Emanuel) Feuermann brought the cello to a soloistic visibility. But Slava was the one who really provided the repertoire, particularly the repertoire of his time for us to play. (After hearing him play) I always had the same reaction. ... I just wanted to run home and pick up my cello. There was nothing about it that was intimidating. He was only ever encouraging, just by his presence.

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