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Interview given by Yuri Rozum
to "Summerlove" magazine, Berlin, Germany
before his concert at the Berlin arena on 16 June 2005. Dedicated to the 20th
Anniversary of perestroika. In the presence of Mikhail Gorbachev
Summer 2005
In his speech at the Berlin Arena on 16 June 2005 Mikhail Gorbachev
said:-
"Yuri Rozum is a great Russian musician, whose life path is
directly linked to perestroika – thanks to perestroika he was given the
opportunity to travel the world and people in other countries can now
enjoy his art.”
At
what age did you start playing the piano and when did you decide to pursue a
musical career?
Y.R.:
When I was very young, my parents, both professional musicians, believed
that I had no ear for music at all, because I couldn’t sing a single note
correctly. Then one day my mother’s friend, also a musician, was playing
games with me at home and discovered that I had perfect pitch: she would
play a chord of several notes on the piano and I could repeat it after her
perfectly not knowing a single note or key. As a result I started playing
the piano at the age of five and a half. My first teacher, although very
professional, was very strict and cold and could not interest or inspire me,
so at that time (at five and a half) I made a firm decisions that I didn’t
want to continue with my music studies. Then a year later, I was introduced
to another teacher, the famous Anna Artobolevskaya, who changed everything.
She was not just a wonderful teacher, but a beautiful person, who simply
exuded warmth and love and I decided that I wanted to continue studying
music, provided I was in her class. I also decided then that I wanted to be
a professional musician. This love was mutual – she very soon told my
parents that I was a perfect candidate for the Central Music School, where
only children with outstanding music abilities were accepted – every year
there was a contest to enter the school and only about 15 children were
selected from all over the Soviet Union. Becoming a student at that school
also meant that one would pursue a professional music career in the future.
What
attracted you to the piano -visiting concerts or was it more influenced by
your parents?
Y.R. As
I said, my parents were both musicians: my father was a famous baritone, and
mother was Professor of music and conductor of the Academic Russian Folk
Choir. Our house was always full of people, a lot of them musicians; there
was always music and singing. My father would give impromptu concerts to
our guests accompanied by my mother or one of the friends and in summer when
the windows were open there would be a crowd in the street outside our house
listening to my father and applauding.
As soon
as I started my music studies I would also accompany my father during home
concerts. I played on the stage for him for the first time at six and a
half. And from the beginning of the 70s (I was Moscow Conservatoire student
by then) we would tour the country together with concerts, him singing and
me accompanying.
During
my music studies I also attended many concerts and listened to recordings.
The teaching methods of Anna Artobolevskaya meant that all her students had
a very broad musical education. All of her students attended concerts
together and then discussed them. During her classes, we all played for
each other and very often her former students, who were already professional
concert pianists were also present and would play for us, students, and
listen to us play. So we were all mingling in one big “music pot”.
How
much did/do you practise now and in your early piano days and how do you
motivate yourself?
In the
first 8 years of my studies at the Central Music School I practiced
criminally little – I was quite lazy then. I was obviously absorbing a lot
of music ideas, emotions, building a foundation for the future, but I hated
practising for hours. But during the last three years of the School before
entering the Moscow Conservatoire I became a student of a famous
Conservatoire Professor Evgueny Malinin, who was a student and assistant of
legendary Henrich Neihaus. It was a great honour to be taught by a
professor of Conservatoire still being at school. At that time I suddenly
realised, that although I had a lot of ideas, I couldn’t really express them
in my playing – I simply lacked the technique. It was then that I started
working seriously, practising like a ballet dancer at the bar, for 5 to 9
hours a day.
My
motivation has always been a desire to realise my music ideas, to pass them
on to my listeners and make them understand me and to reach a certain degree
of freedom in performing. All this requires a lot of hard work.
My
current life-style and performing schedule (with a lot of travelling
involved) does not allow a regular pattern of practising, so I can’t say how
many hours I practise every day. There are days when I don’t practise at
all and then for days before the performance I might practice all the time,
day and night, with 3-4 hours a day for sleep.
Who
are your favourite composers? Both for listening to and playing?
As a music lover I like to listen to variety of
music by different composers, be it piano music, orchestral or choir
compositions. I enjoy a lot of music that I don’t play myself, ranging from
ancient music by Palestrina and Scarlatti to contemporary music by Gorezki
and the Beatles.
As a performer, my repertoire consists mainly of
music by romantic composers. Although I can’t say that I prefer Rachmaninov
to Liszt or Tchaikovsky to Chopin. Being a concert pianist is a dynamic
process: at different times certain composers and pieces of music become
closer to you, then you move away from them, so I can’t really say that I
have one favourite composer. But I see my special task in performing
Russian music for the world audiences and probably of all composers
Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov are the closest to my heart. Tchaikovsky for me
to a certain extent is a sort of Dostoevsky in music. He opens up such
depths of a Russian soul, a suffering, seeking soul, which no other composer
ever opened before, I think.
Rachmaninov is the beauty of my country, never ending landscapes, vast
plains disappearing into infinity, it is chivalry and warmth. And of course
it is the beauty of melodies, the beauty of music phrases, of voicing. I
think he is a composer who managed to revive the real beauty of music in the
20th century.
Classical music by Russian composers - how would you describe the
differences between them and works by German, British or French composers?
Traditionally there is a belief that music of Russian composers is more open
and emotional, as the Russian nation is on the whole. But music is an
emotional substance per se, composers of all nationalities are expressing
their emotions through their music, but they do it in their own ways. But I
wouldn’t want to generalise here, each composer is individual and
Tchaikovsky is as different from Debussy, for example, as Debussy is
different from Beethoven. I suppose what common for all Russian composers
is the fact that the roots of their music are in Russian folklore and
Russian Orthodox Church music.
What
do you think of when you play - do you visualize stories or random images
e.g.?
For me
music first and foremost is a special language. Playing music is telling a
story, a music phrase is similar to a spoken word. When I play I feel like
a speaker who is trying to convince his audience or a storyteller who is
sharing his inmost experiences with his listeners or a humble man who has
come for a confession and is pouring out his heart,.. Every time the music I
play is a story that I am telling my audience and trying to make them
understand me. Music is a language that a musician uses to express his
feelings, emotions, experiences without putting them into words.
Do
you compose as well?
No, I
don’t – I think enough bad music has been composed to date and I don’t want
to add to it. In order to play all existing great music one would need at
least five lives, so I am trying to concentrate on what I can do well.
Are
your interpretations of musical pieces influenced by moods or do you try to
follow an original idea?
When I
am learning a new piece, I try to take in all the original ideas of the
composer, understand his intentions and wishes and after a while you become
so akin to the piece that it feels like your own. And then when you go on
the stage and play, you are expressing your own feelings and moods through
this music, so each and every performance is different according to how you
feel at that moment.
Playing the piano can be physically exhausting - how do you keep fit? And
what kind of music do you like listening to in your spare time (also rock,
jazz, electronics etc.?)
Well,
for many years now I have practiced Hatha Yoga, but only the physical
exercises of yoga. Yoga philosophy is something different, but some time
ago I was very much into it. I got so involved that I started to play
worse. My professor of music didn’t know what was happening to me, but could
hear that I started to play somewhat too plainly: certain emotions, colours
were gone. And he advised that I should rethink something, re-evaluate. I
thought about it long and hard and realised that of course it was because of
yoga. The idea of yoga is total absence of emotions, your conscious and
subconscious, your heart and soul are absolutely clear so that you can
reflect the Absolute. And what can you play once everything is clear? Music
is fighting - it’s ups and downs, it’s the life of your soul, it is
definitely not all peace and quiet. Maybe at a certain point it can be, but
on the whole it’s a progressive movement, it’s a road through life, which a
musician should show in his playing. So in this case yoga didn’t help me at
all. Perhaps for certain individuals it is good and useful, but for my
individuality it was a sort of self-destruction. So I only kept physical
exercises and they are helping me a lot. Every morning I do a number of yoga
positions, absolutely every morning. Even if I am travelling, I do the
postures on the floor of a train or if I am flying, I would find a quiet
corner at the airport and do my exercises. People look at me like there is
something wrong with my head, but I still do it. And before playing at
concerts and during intervals, I always do a headstand. For many years now I
haven’t missed a single day. The only break in my yoga practice was a couple
of years ago when after a very successful concert a crowd of fans broke my
rib, so for two weeks I couldn’t do any physical exercises.
As to
music listening in my spare time, I like very different kinds of music, but
I am always looking for meaning, and sense in the music is in its melody and
harmony. There is enough disharmony and dissonance in real life, so there
is no need to put it into the music. So if I can find sense in music I
listen to anything from folk to rock.
How
do you experience Russia today - what difficulties does it face? Do you like
Putin as President?
During
my life I have experienced Russia in many different ways: there was a time
when I was somewhat a prisoner in my own country, I wasn’t allowed to travel
abroad for many years; then there was a period when I practically lived in
the West visiting Russia from time to time and spending not more than a
couple of months there in a year. Now the balance is changing again and I
am leaning more towards Russia. I think all the upheavals that Russia has
been through in the 20th century will take a long time to settle
and stabilise. At the moment the country is still very much in transition,
everything is changing, bubbling away there; there are new beginnings,
searches going on, the country is still intoxicated with its new freedom,
there are lots of new opportunities, in short it is a very interesting
time. The country is like a teenager trying to find its identity. And at
times like this the high art has a very important role to play; its mission
is to help people not to lose their cultural traditions, their heart and
soul. I have recently set up a charitable foundation in Russia. It is
called the Yuri Rozum International Charitable Foundation. I have many
friends who help me with this work and my main motive is to give access to
the wonderful art of classical music to as many people as possible in
various parts of Russia.
President Putin – well, I feel that this is a big step forward for my
country after Boris Yeltsin. That was the dark time of corruption and lack
of anything spiritual.
YURI'S BACK
The Register-Guard, 09/28/2003
By Fred Crafts
Pianist's tough road in music finally returns to a favorite city
Pass the word. Yuri Rozum's coming. Coming to Eugene. Coming back home,
so to speak.
The Russian who is arguably Eugene's favorite classical pianist played here so much in the late 1990s that he could have been considered a local musician. Then, he disappeared.
Now, after an absence of almost four years, he is returning to play Ludwig van Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3 with the Oregon Mozart Players next weekend. He will also play works by Frederic Chopin and Franz Liszt in a solo recital this Wednesday that is a benefit for the Oregon Mozart Players.
And, boy, is he one happy guy.
"It was part of my every year's schedule, coming to Eugene," Rozum said by phone from a concert stop in Mobile, Ala. "It was like a special reason in my life. Then, it was cut. I don't know because of what. We didn't find any way of communication."
Sources say the Oregon Mozart Players' inability to pay what for them was a high fee for Rozum's services kept the two apart.
"I missed it emotionally because I love Eugene. I love Eugene audiences very much. I like very much to play with the Oregon Mozart Players.
``Therefore, I'm happy to come again and to see my old friends," Rozum said. "To come back and to re-establish our relations was my dream."
Rozum will find the Oregon Mozart Players have undergone many changes in his absence. There is new executive director David Bretz and new artistic director Glen Cortese. There is also a new board and a new can-do spirit within the orchestra that is coming back after falling on hard financial times.
Cortese, who will be making his debut as conductor, has heard plenty about Rozum.
"He's very well liked and respected in the Eugene community," Cortese said by phone from his home in New York City. "I've never worked with him before and neither have I heard him play. But he comes highly recommended."
The last few years have been very good for Rozum.
He will be 50 next Feb. 22, and is at last gaining recognition as one of the world's foremost pianists, something Eugene audiences latched onto when he turned up here in 1994 on his first North American trip, after years of being held down by the Soviet regime.
Anyone who doubts that persistence pays should study Rozum's career. Once prevented from playing concerts outside his native country, and even there banished to playing in kindergartens and hospitals in Siberia, the fiercely determined Rozum stayed the course to rise through the ranks.
He recently was given his country's top artistic title, People's Honored Artist of Russia, an award that puts him in the company of such fellow recipients as Sergey Prokofiev, Dmitry Shostakovich and Mstislav Rostropovich.
Anyone who has experienced Rozum's burning desire to make music knows that an honor of this magnitude doesn't come without sacrifices: sleep, health, family, relationships, everything.
About the award, Rozum said, "It was absolutely a surprise for me. I was in Germany. As usual, I stayed up all night playing and went to bed in the morning. Then two, three hours later I was deeply sleeping and somebody called me from Russia to tell me the news.
"It was so far from reality, I couldn't take it seriously. When I woke up two, three hours later, I thought, `Was it a call or was it a dream?' '
As it turned out, Rozum was so intent on honoring his concert engagements that the night he was scheduled to receive the award from Russian President Vladimir Putin, he was playing a concert in Germany. A friend picked up the award and mailed it to him.
"The main thing is not the award but the title," Rozum said.
Rozum, who has given 20-some concerts in the Eugene area comes to town this time with an entirely new set of credentials.
Where previously he struggled to get engagements in Russia, now he plays all the biggest halls in the biggest cities with the best orchestras. A recent Moscow news media poll placed him among the top 10 classical musicians in Russia.
Rozum now spends almost half his time in Germany, where he has a large and devoted following. He is on a United States tour now, and on Jan. 10 he will embark on a two-month North American tour with the Moscow State Radio Symphony, concluding at the Hult Center for the Performing Arts on March 7.
Meanwhile, he has recorded numerous CDs. The latest, "Yuri Rozum Live," was released just days ago.
On the private side, Rozum and his wife have divorced. His 8-year-old daughter, Alexandra, now lives with him in Moscow, although he admits he is mostly on the road.
"Even when I am in Russia, I am on the road," he said. "If you collect all the days I have off, then there'll be maybe 30, 40 days when I spend time in my real household.
"On the one hand, I am homeless; on the other hand, I have a lot of homes all over the world."
Yes, Rozum is still very much the workaholic - practicing long hours, often through the night, seldom sleeping. Is he holding up OK?
"Yeah, sort of," he said with characteristic candor. "I think my immune system is not perfect because I permanently ruined it by sleeping two, three hours a night, and with all this jumping from one country to another and changing the time zones and eating some unhealthy things like coffee and salt and fat. But I want to enjoy my life and to do whatever I like, even when it's unhealthy. Somehow, I keep going."
Sustaining Rozum through the stressful regimen is his devotion to doing yoga in the morning. "Whatever happens - whether I am ill or I am traveling - I have done 10 minutes or more of yoga every day since I was 17."
Of course, also sustaining him is his passion for music.
"That's unchangeable," he said.
Approaching his milestone 50th birthday has put Rozum in a reflective mood about his career. He always "hoped and dreamed" he would have a career, but then "my life killed all my dreams and expectations when I was closed in the Soviet Union and when I only played on upright pianos without many keys in kindergartens and hospitals and rest homes in Siberia. Step by step, I lost all my hopes.
"I just went on because I loved music and I thought I couldn't do anything else. I didn't know how long I could survive in this state, because at the time I became quite nervous that I was losing my profession."
But then a miracle happened. Everything in Russia changed. Mikhail Gorbachev came to power. Perestroika occurred.
And, for Rozum, "a new life started." He was celebrated at home, and free to tour.
But it was a life of peaks and valleys, of starts and stops. Or as he puts it, "many developments and many pressures."
"For the moment, it is a development again and quite positive, quite optimistic. But who knows? Nobody knows what could happen."
LIFE
WANTS TO BE LIVED
Interview
given by Yuri Rozum
to "Bechstein News", Germany
February 2001, No.10
Yuri
Rozum is an exceptionally talented pianist.
The public thanked him with ovation after his recitals in steelwork halls in Berlin and Duesseldorf.
There was a turning point in his career - the fate shared by many musicians from the former Soviet Union.
"What inspired you to play the piano?
I grew up in a family of musicians: my father was a concert
singer, mymother is a choirmaster and conductor of the Russian Folk
Academic Choir.Though she is 75 she still works with the biggest choirs of
Russia and is a
professor of music. I grew up with vocal music. Our house was
always
crowded with guests, my father gave almost every evening little
recitals for
friends, accompanied by my mother or somebody else. We used to
live in a little
house in a quiet road close to the zoo. At the open window there
was
always a crowed of people that listened and applauded. I liked to
sing with
him but it was funny - I just sang a sequence of two tones:
Buhbuhbuh.
Instead of telling me a fairy-tell my parents had to sing a song
to make
me fall asleep. By the time they got really annoyed by that but
insisted on
this ritual. My mother was convinced that I was anything but
musical, but
when I was five she invited an accompanist from her conservatory
who
checked me. To my parents surprise, this woman discovered my
absolute
hearing. I found always the tones on the piano without knowing
the notes.
Moreover I had a horizontal hearing. From polychrome chords I was
able to
filter every single tone. Therefore I could enroll at the Central
Music School which is part of the Moscow Tchaikovsky Conservatoire and behind
every
student there are 100 expectants. By the way - I still can't sing.
Because of his
brilliant and full baritone my father was often engaged for
patriotic parts - he
sang also for the soldiers of the GDR. Recently I gave an old
record of my
father to a German conductor of an orchestra: His comment was: My
God,
that sound like Mario Lanza"
Did you ever think about accompanying a singer?
I specially accompanied my father, but his voice was for me a
very strong
ideal. I was always looking for a similar timbre. That is not a
good
disposition for someone who accompanies, you have to be more open-minded.
Once I had a partner but he lost his mind - and his voice - when
he became
part of a sect.
When I was seven I went to Anna Artobolevskaya, a famous teacher.
She
decided to teach me. This first teacher inspired me to learn the
piano.
You studied with the most famous teachers in Moscow. You were one
of the
elects with high expectation of carrier. But something went wrong.
Yes, after 11 years of study at the Central Music School of
Moscow most of
the young students are on a very professional level, more than
half of them
go afterwards to the conservatory of Moscow. My final degree was
excellent,
so I had many friends.
With 14 I started to be interested in a lot of things - also for
philosophy. But my discoveries didn't match to the ideas of the
regime.
Therefore my own beliefs suited less and less to the official
ideas and
convictions. Unfortunately I was full of confidence and didn't
listened to
my parents' advise to be more careful to reveal my opinion to my
friends.
Which philosophy had the strongest influence on you?
Russian philosophers like Alexander Berdiaev - he stands in the Russian
orthodox line. I started to go to church. But at the same time I practiced
yoga and read Solschenizyn. So I did everything which was against
the
public opinion. And I didn't make a secret out of it.
Yoga and orthodox church - how does this match together? Could
you tell us
the main points that impressed you most? Were you looking for
answers for
the life after life - transcendence?
I was looking for a spiritual direction which would suppurate the
limitations on the material level. My surroundings were atheistic.
Of
course I was interested in Marx and Engels - on the search for
truth. But
something seemed to suffocate me. Everything seemed right,
punctual,
explainable - but there was no space. No air to breath. So I
started to
study the Indian philosophers. I started to live like a ascetic,
no
alcohol, no meat, no fish, no sex. My former teacher noticed that
something
was wrong with me. I was going to loose my vitality. I was so
concentrated
on the philosophy, I wanted to reach the control of my emotions.
I wanted
silence like a plain surface of water. But what is music without
the ups
and downs of emotions, of passion, hope and sorrow.
So, Yoga means silence?
Yes, absolutely, a kind of tranquillity without vibrations which
would
disturb the brain because a moving surface of the water can't
reflect the
moon. In the morning I wasn't allowed to talk for several hours,
I could
even say hello" to my parents. It took some time before I
noticed that my
yoga teacher was a pseudo-guru". I already had lost a lot of
weight, but my
teacher Malinin convinced me that I drifted more and more away
from my
original aim: to improve my music. I just played worse. I still
remember
the first piece of meat, the first glass of wine which I tried
carefully. It
took me a while until I got back to my original physical
condition.
What kind of Yoga was it? Was it the aim to get over every
physical wishes?
It was Hatha and Radja Yoga. It was a direction to reach the
perfection
and to get from my body the physical support for that. Perfection
and
illumination. I tried stop thinking. Also nowadays I practice some exercises but I just use the physical aspects. Because if you try
on one
hand to lead a private life then you get in troubles with the
doctrine. It
is only possible if you retire completely from social life. At
least in my
opinion. Maybe I was to inexperienced. But I don't regret this experience.
Anyway I was very open-minded and I talked about all these things
with my
friends. I went to my lectures and even there I read
Solschinitzjn under
the table. For that you could have been put in prison.
As the best piano student in my year I was selected to
participate in the
International Festival of Music Academies of Western Europe and
as a
Laureate of this Festival I went to Zagreb to play in symphony
concerts and
to make recordings. So the start was very promising. It seemed
that my
career would develop perfectly. And then it all happened.
I was selected to take part in the Competition Reine Elisabeth in
Brussels.
And what is more, I was the candidate that promised to have the
best chances.
I was excluded from the duty to take part of the usual lessons. I
could
completely concentrate on the preparations for the competition.
Somebody
had collected information about me and had delivered them to the
KGB. So
the ministry of culture had the wrong impression that I wanted to
emigrate,
that I wanted to take the advantage of the competition to leave
the country.
After we were officially informed how to behave abroad I got the
message
that my passport was not ready yet, I should have left some days
later and
continue to practice. I wasn't worried about that but my parents
knew
immediately what that meant. In the meanwhile the students of my
group had
been very successful and had won 3 first prices. [I crossed out
the sentence
about Yugoslavia here - this fact was earlier chronologically
than Brussels]
I was 20 and had the best prospects and I didn't notice that
undercover
everything was already decided for me. And I had never the
intention to
emigrate, I just wanted to have the freedom for my own ideas. Today I still live in Moscow. Moreover I was a friend of Afanassiew, Malinin's assistant. A very special person, an ascetic, an
individualist.
He inspired me to listen again and again to old recordings of
Rubinstein or
Sofronitzki, always in search of the secret of their culture of
touch. He
played very specially - for me as tender as bird feathers. Never fortissimo,
but in all steps from Piano to Forte. A year before he had won
the
competition in Brussels. He suggested to Malinin to send me to
Brussels.
Afanassiev emigrated a year later and my connections to him were
another
reason for treating me like a dissident. Afanassiev had his own
ideas of
playing piano, of pianistic culture. He was conscious of tone, he
wanted
the instrument to sing, he found the usual practice to rough and
wild.
Russian music for him was not only the tempest of emotions, the
strength in
the forefront, but the long phrases, the melancholia, the
richness of
facets. He wrote poems, he talked about spiritual aspects during
his
lessons. In the tradition of Neuhaus and Igumnov. They wanted
Legato,
Cantilene. But Afanassiev wasn't loved by everyone. The more
detrimental
was the contact with him.
So - just negative things about this time in Russia?
No, it's not that simple. The narrowness and the limitation of
the system
led to a high concentration of competition among us. You had to
be good and
to work hard. Nowadays you can simply go, actually you can
participate in
every competition. In former times it was necessary to pass a lot
of exams
and selections before. The Jury chose the best, the groups
remained
together and went together to the competitions. But today in
Moscow you
earn only little money, the level got lower. In the eighties the
level was
extraordinary. But also in literature. People tried to hide the
forbidden
in a very creative way, people were full of ideas and wrote great
books.
Today everything is possible and there is no need to try hard. I
had the
best dispositions and should have gotten a Lenin -Fellowship but...I
had to
go to the military which is unusual for someone in my position.
That meant
not to touch a piano for 18 months. But after that I was supposed
to be
political cleaned". Although I was far away from my former
level, I was
allowed to go to Madrid. I didn't play well, every move I made I
was
observed, but nevertheless I was allowed to go abroad. I came
back - and
probably they didn't expected it. Then I could travel to
Barcelona, I
already played better and won the first price and a gold medal.
After that I
got concert contracts in Europe. But again I was not allowed to
leave the
country. In that time you had to hand in all engagements to the
state
concert agency Goskonzert", and I was not allowed to make
personal
contracts. I guess they gave explanations to the organizators
like that I
was ill or too busy or something like that. I just played for
kindergardens
or hospitals. That is very demotivating to play on broken pianos.
You
arrive somewhere in the middle of nowhere, nobody expects you,
you go by
taxi to the concert hall, finally you find somebody, and he gives
you maybe
an imprint - and with that you have fulfilled your duty, to
organize
classical concerts. But in reality they organized Pop-concerts to
earn
more money. So why should you think about your own progress and
quality. I
was appreciated by the government but I wasn't allowed to play in
the West.
Sometimes a recital was good - in Siberia for instance where
people are
seeking for music. Sometimes after concerts we went to somebody's
home to
have a good chat, we drank vodka and had some salted cucumbers...
(traditional things in Russia) - I learnt a lot. Sometimes I will
write about that.
Despite the Perestroika you didn't leave Moscow?
No, but I began to play more, I began to look for concert
opportunities in
the West. Of course the old relation ships didn't exist anymore.
Nobody
remembered me. Moreover I wasn't the first who wanted to play in
the West.
Yes, the West was crowded with Russian pianists, and not always
the best. I
was asked about CD recordings - I didn't have one. It went step
by step.
Then I met Dieter Fischer from Stuttgart who organizes concerts.
I even presented instruments in his piano-store. Then it went on. There
were recording contracts, I had recitals in Australia, USA, many other
countries -
everything is in development, but I do play already a lot. I just
sleep 4 hours,
there is a lot to make up. I want to have also a private life, I
have a little
daughter that is growing up in Moscow, in the meantime I made a
lot of
friends in this world. I want to experience life, I don't want to
miss
anything that life offers. Often I practice at night to do other
things during
the day (Mr. Rozum played until 3.00 a.m. in the Bechstein
Centrum) -
life wants to be lived, it has a lot of aspects.
Thank you very much, Mr. Rozum for your honesty and we wish you
all the
best. It had cost some tears to listen to this very personal
story of a
very talented musician, told without any pretension at breakfast
after a
wonderful recital in Dusseldorf.
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