TAKING A BOW: ARMENIAN CELLIST NAREK HAKHNAZARYAN DISCUSSES ENDPINS, THE TCHAIKOVSKY COMPETITION AND THE DVORAK CELLO CONCERTO, WHICH HE PLAYS WITH DALLAS SYMPHONY THIS WEEKEND.
by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs
TheaterJones Performing Arts News
Oct 18 2012
Dallas -- On first glance in person, Armenian cellist Narek
Hakhnazaryan brings to mind a greyhound. He is tall and slender;
and while his demeanor is friendly but calm and reserved, you know
from his recordings that, once he starts to play, he unleashes an
energy that leaves the field behind and astonishes the audience.
That must have been the reaction when he won the gold medal at the
XIV International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow.
That combination of calm energy served him well when conductor Mark
Gorenstein treated him in a dismissive manner during the rehearsal
for the concerto part of the Tchaikovsky competition. Gorenstein later
apologized, but the incident could have easily rattled a less centered
performed. After all, he was only 23 at the time. According to the
Independent Journalist's Network, when asked about the insulting
treatment at the hands of the conductor, Hakhnazaryan said, "All
is well. My head, my thoughts are now only on the competition. I am
concentrating on the music for my upcoming performance in the finals."
During our interview at the Meyerson Symphony Center, he sat quietly
and answered questions in an intelligent and measured way. He spoke
perfect English, which was due to the two years he spent at the New
England Conservatory of Music. That was after his studies, which
began at age 12, at the Moscow Conservatory with the distinguished
cellist Alexey Seleznyov.
The rising-star cellist will play Dvorák's Cello Concerto this
weekend with the Dallas Symphony with Musical Director Jaap van Zweden
conducting. That composer's seventh symphony will complete the program.
Hakhnazaryan comes from a musical family. His father is a professor
of violin at the Moscow Conservatory and played for 26 years in the
Gomidas Quartet. His mother and one of his brothers are both pianists.
In fact, his mother has toured with him as his accompanist. Another
brother is a conductor and now is with the National Symphony Orchestra
of Bashkortostan. In fact, it was this brother who conducted when
the young cellist first played the Dvorák concerto with an orchestra.
"It was easy," says Hakhnazaryan. "I don't know if it was our
communication as brothers or just that, as two musicians, we had the
same ideas about the concerto. It really went well no matter."
One problem that all cellists have is how to put the endpin on the
floor, such as in this photo. The instrument is held between your legs
and at the right height by a long pin, about the width of a pencil,
which extends out of the end of the instrument. It is adjustable
to account for the size of different players, and has a sharp point
that sticks in the floor. Since most venues object to sticking what
amounts to a nail on their floors, there are various devices on the
market to keep the endpin in place. This is very important, and a
cause for great concern among cellists since, if it were to slip in
a performance, the cello would move and the playing interrupted. It
has happened even to the greatest cellists.
"This isn't a problem if I am on a riser, but when you are on a
floor you can have trouble," he says. "I don't like to use any of
the holders that are out there. The [small rubber] cup tends to
slip and the wood board [about 2 inches wide and a couple of feet
long that goes under one chair leg and extends out] slips side to
side. Of course, if the piece of wood went under both chair legs,
that would work. But it would be difficult to travel with. I prefer
to just find a crack or spot on the floor that will hold the point.
"So far, this has never happened to me," he says with a rare grin.
That's not to say that there haven't been any other performance-related
mishaps. In talking about one, that calm part of his personality
comes in handy in the midst of his fiery musicality.
"For some reason, my instrument went out of tune as I was playing the
Elgar [Cello Concerto]," he says. "There was no place to stop and fix
it, so I had to adjust by my finger positions as I continued. When
the movement ended, I was able to tune before we continued. It wasn't
much, like if a string came loose, but it was plenty to affect my
playing. I think it was because of the weather, which can really
affect a string instrument."
Some cello concerti are more physical than others, and thus more likely
to have the endpin slip. The Shostakovich, for example, is a real
work out. It requires lots of pressure on the instrument throughout.
"When Rostropovich played it, near the end, you can see that he is
holding his bow with his fist instead of the thumb and forefinger,"
Hakhnazaryan says. "His bow arm was so tired that he needed to change
his grip. You really work up a sweat."
As far as endurance goes, the Dvorák is not easy to play, either. It
is 40 minutes of highly Romantic music that uses a large orchestra.
"It is hard work to be heard over such a large orchestra," he says.
"But I have lived with this concerto since I was 12 and I know how to
pace myself. It is such emotional music that you have to know where
the tiring places are and remember to relax."
His instrument is a 1698 David Tecchler cello, on loan from Valentine
Saarmaa, granddaughter of the renowned dealer in classical string
instruments Jacques Francais, who died at the age of 80 in 2004. He
had a quaint workshop near Carnegie Hall that was as famous for its
fireplace and valuable paintings as for the priceless instruments
scattered here and there.
"It is a beautiful instrument with a wonderful sound," Hakhnazaryan
says. "I am honored to have it to play."
When asked is there was a concerto that he would like to play that
he hasn't tackled yet, he answers without hesitation: "That would be
Brahms' Double."
This was the last work that Brahms composed for orchestra, a double
concerto for violin and cello that is full of autumnal beauty. It
is a surprising selection for a young artist at the beginning of
his career. You might expect some great technical challenge by a
contemporary composer; the two concerti by Krzysztof Penderecki or
György Ligeti immediately come to mind.
But come to think of it, the Brahms is the selection that you would
expect from an artist with such a calm exterior, but who is capable
of exploding with music once he starts to play.
â-~J Here's video of Hakhnazaryan playing the
Dvorák Cello Concerto at Moscow Conservatory:
http://www.theaterjones.com/features/20121017185428/2012-10-18/Taking-a-Bow
by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs
TheaterJones Performing Arts News
Oct 18 2012
Dallas -- On first glance in person, Armenian cellist Narek
Hakhnazaryan brings to mind a greyhound. He is tall and slender;
and while his demeanor is friendly but calm and reserved, you know
from his recordings that, once he starts to play, he unleashes an
energy that leaves the field behind and astonishes the audience.
That must have been the reaction when he won the gold medal at the
XIV International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow.
That combination of calm energy served him well when conductor Mark
Gorenstein treated him in a dismissive manner during the rehearsal
for the concerto part of the Tchaikovsky competition. Gorenstein later
apologized, but the incident could have easily rattled a less centered
performed. After all, he was only 23 at the time. According to the
Independent Journalist's Network, when asked about the insulting
treatment at the hands of the conductor, Hakhnazaryan said, "All
is well. My head, my thoughts are now only on the competition. I am
concentrating on the music for my upcoming performance in the finals."
During our interview at the Meyerson Symphony Center, he sat quietly
and answered questions in an intelligent and measured way. He spoke
perfect English, which was due to the two years he spent at the New
England Conservatory of Music. That was after his studies, which
began at age 12, at the Moscow Conservatory with the distinguished
cellist Alexey Seleznyov.
The rising-star cellist will play Dvorák's Cello Concerto this
weekend with the Dallas Symphony with Musical Director Jaap van Zweden
conducting. That composer's seventh symphony will complete the program.
Hakhnazaryan comes from a musical family. His father is a professor
of violin at the Moscow Conservatory and played for 26 years in the
Gomidas Quartet. His mother and one of his brothers are both pianists.
In fact, his mother has toured with him as his accompanist. Another
brother is a conductor and now is with the National Symphony Orchestra
of Bashkortostan. In fact, it was this brother who conducted when
the young cellist first played the Dvorák concerto with an orchestra.
"It was easy," says Hakhnazaryan. "I don't know if it was our
communication as brothers or just that, as two musicians, we had the
same ideas about the concerto. It really went well no matter."
One problem that all cellists have is how to put the endpin on the
floor, such as in this photo. The instrument is held between your legs
and at the right height by a long pin, about the width of a pencil,
which extends out of the end of the instrument. It is adjustable
to account for the size of different players, and has a sharp point
that sticks in the floor. Since most venues object to sticking what
amounts to a nail on their floors, there are various devices on the
market to keep the endpin in place. This is very important, and a
cause for great concern among cellists since, if it were to slip in
a performance, the cello would move and the playing interrupted. It
has happened even to the greatest cellists.
"This isn't a problem if I am on a riser, but when you are on a
floor you can have trouble," he says. "I don't like to use any of
the holders that are out there. The [small rubber] cup tends to
slip and the wood board [about 2 inches wide and a couple of feet
long that goes under one chair leg and extends out] slips side to
side. Of course, if the piece of wood went under both chair legs,
that would work. But it would be difficult to travel with. I prefer
to just find a crack or spot on the floor that will hold the point.
"So far, this has never happened to me," he says with a rare grin.
That's not to say that there haven't been any other performance-related
mishaps. In talking about one, that calm part of his personality
comes in handy in the midst of his fiery musicality.
"For some reason, my instrument went out of tune as I was playing the
Elgar [Cello Concerto]," he says. "There was no place to stop and fix
it, so I had to adjust by my finger positions as I continued. When
the movement ended, I was able to tune before we continued. It wasn't
much, like if a string came loose, but it was plenty to affect my
playing. I think it was because of the weather, which can really
affect a string instrument."
Some cello concerti are more physical than others, and thus more likely
to have the endpin slip. The Shostakovich, for example, is a real
work out. It requires lots of pressure on the instrument throughout.
"When Rostropovich played it, near the end, you can see that he is
holding his bow with his fist instead of the thumb and forefinger,"
Hakhnazaryan says. "His bow arm was so tired that he needed to change
his grip. You really work up a sweat."
As far as endurance goes, the Dvorák is not easy to play, either. It
is 40 minutes of highly Romantic music that uses a large orchestra.
"It is hard work to be heard over such a large orchestra," he says.
"But I have lived with this concerto since I was 12 and I know how to
pace myself. It is such emotional music that you have to know where
the tiring places are and remember to relax."
His instrument is a 1698 David Tecchler cello, on loan from Valentine
Saarmaa, granddaughter of the renowned dealer in classical string
instruments Jacques Francais, who died at the age of 80 in 2004. He
had a quaint workshop near Carnegie Hall that was as famous for its
fireplace and valuable paintings as for the priceless instruments
scattered here and there.
"It is a beautiful instrument with a wonderful sound," Hakhnazaryan
says. "I am honored to have it to play."
When asked is there was a concerto that he would like to play that
he hasn't tackled yet, he answers without hesitation: "That would be
Brahms' Double."
This was the last work that Brahms composed for orchestra, a double
concerto for violin and cello that is full of autumnal beauty. It
is a surprising selection for a young artist at the beginning of
his career. You might expect some great technical challenge by a
contemporary composer; the two concerti by Krzysztof Penderecki or
György Ligeti immediately come to mind.
But come to think of it, the Brahms is the selection that you would
expect from an artist with such a calm exterior, but who is capable
of exploding with music once he starts to play.
â-~J Here's video of Hakhnazaryan playing the
Dvorák Cello Concerto at Moscow Conservatory:
http://www.theaterjones.com/features/20121017185428/2012-10-18/Taking-a-Bow