GEORGE NEIKRUG MEMORIES OF A LEGEND

Cellist George Neikrug, who died in 2019 at the age of 100, was a celebrated performer and orchestral principal. However, his skills as a pedagogue were second to none, writes University of Wisconsin-Whitewater professor Benjamin Whitcomb, who has gathered personal recollections from fellow former students

In early March of 2020, during the American String Teachers Association (ASTA) conference, some of George Neikrug’s former cello students gathered to share their reminiscences. He had died on 8 March 2019, the day after his 100th birthday. The world of string playing is full of truly amazing individuals – many of whom were true geniuses as performers and teachers, and these shared remembrances certainly reminded us all just how much Neikrug belonged in this pantheon. The stories also convinced us that many string players would be interested to hear them as well.

Born in New York, Neikrug studied for about three years with Emanuel Feuermann in the early 1940s. In 1943 he began working with Demetrius Constantine Dounis, with whom he continued to study until Dounis died in 1954. Neikrug considered Dounis to have had the most profound influence on his teaching and playing.

Neikrug was principal cellist of the Baltimore and Pittsburgh symphony orchestras, the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and the recording orchestras of Columbia and Paramount Pictures. He soloed under legendary conductors such as Leonard Bernstein, Bruno Walter, Leopold Stokowski and Yehudi Menuhin. He held teaching positions at the Hochschule für Musik Detmold, Oberlin Conservatory, the University of Texas at Austin, and finally Boston University, where he taught for over 30 years.

He was awarded the ASTA Artist Teacher Award and the Chevalier du Violoncelle by Indiana University. Yehudi Menuhin praised him, saying ‘I was most impressed with his profound and accurate understanding of his instrument, as well as string playing in general. He is a first-rate musician, and I cannot recommend him too highly.’ Bruno Walter lauded him as ‘a genuine musician and a real virtuoso of the cello’.

Neikrug’s teaching philosophy, much like that of Dounis, was that technique should become so natural and easy that it renders playing an instrument a purely musical experience. This ‘expressive technique’ should allow one the ability to produce any musical idea conceived by the brain. In many cases, this meant rediscovering the instinctive way we use our muscles when we are young. We must unlearn many of the habits of tension that we develop because, if any part of the playing process becomes immobile, it affects the entire machine.

Another way to describe this is that technique should strive for the ability to create evenness, which means the ability to get the same sound regardless of the finger, the position, the particular string, the bow direction, etc. When this is accomplished, all variations in sound are the product of the performer’s musical will.

Perhaps the clearest picture of George Neikrug and his teaching methods, however, can be seen through the stories and anecdotes of some of his students.

Alan M. Smith 

Bowling Green State University professor emeritus of cello Ohio, US

Mr Neikrug taught me so many invaluable techniques, philosophies and procedures from which I could basically teach myself. Before my first lesson I had developed a bit of tendonitis in my left wrist, which had become very painful. Cortisone shots and other medications were not working. Perhaps I was finished as a cellist. I relayed this to Mr Neikrug and in very simple words he said, ‘Raise your elbow and lower your wrist.’ The instruction was so basic but no one had never said that to me before. He had cured a condition that others could not. I had always feared Tchaikovsky’s Rococo Variations and thought that I would never have the technique nor facility to play that piece. At the end of that first lesson, with my head spinning from the introduction of a new bow hold, a cure for the left wrist and countless other things, he said, ‘Oh, start working on the Rococo Variations.’ I said ‘OK.’ As I left the studio I thought, ‘No way!’ But, then I thought – and this is the essence of my experience with him – ‘If he has faith in me, I must have faith in myself.’

Byron Duckwall 

Master The Cello (teaching programme) New York, US

One day I went with George to a masterclass at Boston University. The class was filled with violin and cello students. Midway through the class, a violinist was to play a Bach sonata. Suddenly George sat down at the piano and asked me to turn pages, which took me by surprise, since I didn’t know he played piano. So I pulled up a chair and started following the score. As I read the music, I was struck by how good this piano realisation sounded, but something was off. He wasn’t playing what was on the page. I was startled and wondered what was going on. A few days later, I took a lesson with George and asked him about the incident. He confessed he was improvising. After more questions he admitted he could improvise in the style of any composer. I asked him to show me, so he went to the piano while I started naming composers – Mozart, Chopin, Schubert, Brahms, Schumann and so on. After I named a composer he would improvise in that style. It was astonishing. Everything sounded exactly like each composer with all kinds of subtle details. He said he never talked about it because, although he could explain anything related to the mysteries of string playing, with this, he had no idea how he did it. He simply said, ‘It’s always been my ace in the hole!’

Sara Usher 

Glenview Strings San Francisco, US

I was a freshman violin major at Boston University, and we were encouraged to attend masterclasses given by all the string teachers. Being good buddies with several of the cello students, I tagged along to a Neikrug masterclass early that first semester. I was so impressed with his pedagogy. He was able to articulate how to achieve the musicality of a piece by guiding the player precisely in how to make very clear physical adjustments that would make the music ‘pop’, as if by magic. It worked for everyone who played in his masterclasses. He often quoted Dounis, another famous pedagogue whom he had worked with. I was hooked.

I would accompany my friends on the train out to George’s house in Concord and sit in on their lessons. Even though I was severely intimidated, I dared to ask for a lesson myself. Never knowing what he thought of what I could or mostly couldn’t do, I found the experience overwhelming and incredibly inspiring. A violist buddy, also at BU, was courageous enough to quit school just to study privately with George. I wasn’t that brave; I needed the structure of an institution.

I’ll never forget the aura around George, with his adoring students and groupies like myself clinging to his every word. Everything was about how to control the development of one’s technique to become a string player of great integrity and musical mastery.

‘HE GUIDED THE PLAYER IN HOW TO MAKE VERY CLEAR PHYSICAL ADJUSTMENTS THAT WOULD MAKE THE MUSIC “POP”’ 

‘THE STUDENTS WHO PLAYED FOR HIM ACHIEVED AN ASTONISHING LEVEL OF IMPROVEMENT AFTER JUST A BRIEF COACHING’ 

Gisela Depkat 

Professional cellist Canada

George Neikrug was a perfect teacher. He treated all his students with the same kindness, care, honesty and respect. After every lesson, we felt empowered to recreate his sometimes magical teachings in the practice room. He inspired us to believe we could master the cello, or really anything we wanted. With endless patience, he never seemed to tire of long hours of teaching. Before three of us from the Detmold class went to compete in Geneva, we each had four hours of lessons a day. From Germany, the Neikrug cello class moved to Oberlin, then to UT-Austin, then to Boston University. By this time, I had started touring as the American representative for Jeunesses Musicales. I would look forward to my lessons in Boston, calling them my 30,000-mile checkups. My favourite recollection of Professor Neikrug was following the orchestra rehearsal in Geneva, which he attended. Having dropped me off at my hotel, he started backing away, then stopped abruptly. He rolled down his window and called out, ‘And don’t forget: SING!’

Kathryn Read 

Cellist, Philadelphia Orchestra Pennsylvania, US

I first met George Neikrug at a music festival in Claremont, California, in 1974. One of the highlights of the festival was a performance of Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht with all of the members of the faculty. Charles Libove, a good friend of George’s and also a student of Dounis, played first violin. Their similar vibratos, phrasing and vocal expressiveness made for an electrifying performance.

Mr Neikrug’s masterclasses were amazing. I had never met a teacher who had such quick and accurate powers of observation and diagnosis. The students who played for him achieved an astonishing level of improvement after just a little coaching. It seemed as though no musical problem that was presented to him was without a solution. Mr Neikrug also introduced me to Dounis’s philosophy of teaching. It all made so much sense, and I felt that I had been looking for just such an approach to string playing for years. I would not be in the musical career I am today without Mr Neikrug’s help, support and guidance. I am hopeful the many musicians whose lives he touched will continue to pass on his musical philosophy through teaching and performing for years to come.

Aaron Picht 

Tutor, The Philadelphia School Pennsylvania, US

In the early 1960s, George had a teaching position in Detmold, Germany. He was determined to expand his solo career in Europe and met with a few agents who he thought might be interested in promoting him. One manager had George fill out an application which asked for a list of his solo repertoire. George dutifully wrote down the five or six cello concertos that he knew. After reviewing his modest list, he thought to himself, ‘This guy is never going to get me an engagement,’ so he proceeded to write down every cello concerto that he’d ever heard of. He proudly presented the manager with a list of over 30 concertos and left his office convinced that the manager would never contact him. Months went by. Then one day, the telephone rang. It was the manager. He told George that he had a solo engagement with one of the German radio orchestras and that the first rehearsal would be in two weeks. George asked about the repertoire and the manager responded, ‘The Glière Cello Concerto.’ George immediately accepted the engagement, knowing that he was committed to performing a piece in two weeks that he had never played. Upon hanging up with the agent, George immediately asked his first wife, Olga, ‘Honey, do we have the music for the Glière Concerto?’ Somehow, George obtained the part and learnt the entire concerto in two weeks! Forty years later, George received a package in the mail with a return address in Germany. It was a cassette tape of the Glière Concerto performance! Apparently one of George’s students in Detmold made a recording of the performance and never told George. The student died in the early 90s. His widow found the tape and sent it to Neikrug, who kindly gave me a copy. It is a stunning performance. The Glière Concerto is an extremely virtuosic piece. Knowing that George learnt it in two weeks made the performance all the more remarkable.

Seth MacLeod 

Cellist, Symphony by the Sea Massachusetts, US

When I was an undergraduate student at Boston University, I studied Bloch’s Schelomo with George Neikrug. He had a sublime recording of it that he made with Stokowski and Symphony of the Air. It was very inspiring, and I wanted to learn it with him. There was one section where we spent a long time going over fingerings to get just the right style and flair. I spent a lot of time working on that section to get it just right.

The next week I played it for Mr Neikrug. He immediately said that my fingerings weren’t any good, and he showed me entirely new fingerings instead. He made a point of telling me again that my fingerings weren’t any good. So I told him that I was using the fingerings that he gave me last week. He sat there for a moment and then said, ‘Well, I guess I changed my mind.’

Tido Janssen 

Tutor, University of Texas Rio Grande Valley Texas, US

Without George Neikrug I would never be where I am today. He took me into his studio on the recommendation of his former student Richard Talkowsky when I could barely get around the instrument and he taught me so, so much in just a few years. I have great memories from our lessons and the time in his studio. The one story that’s brought up in my family again and again is a moment my parents witnessed while sitting in a lesson on a visit to Boston to check how their son from a tiny country town in Germany was doing in a big foreign city. I was working on the Kodály Solo Cello Sonata, one of the great pieces on my bucket list and something Neikrug loved to teach. In the lesson I kept stopping in the last movement, my memory failing me repeatedly. Finally, he lost his patience. Staring me in the eye while chewing his sandwich, he growled in his low voice, then smirked: ‘Keep playing! Play something! I don’t care what you play. Play the national anthem if that’s all you remember, but you cannot stop in a performance.’ Of course, I couldn’t even do that. Neikrug was full of great stories and I always admired him for his incredible musical brain and musical memory!

Michael Reynolds 

Muir Quartet Massachusetts, US

When I became George’s colleague at Boston University, I was immediately taken by his dry humour, constant flow of stories about his incredible history, relationships with the pantheon of great musicians and his ferocious dedication to his students. I started coming to him for advice on the finer points of technique, particularly when I had a desperate need, such as soon performing something from the showpiece literature, and George always was welcoming. I had to be careful when sitting next to him on juries; his wry asides about an accompanist or a student’s foibles usually had me weeping with laughter (while I was trying to look severe and focused). His passing was truly the end of a golden period of great string players.

Tanya Anisimova 

Cellist and composer Maryland, US

George Neikrug’s way of talking wasn’t easy to comprehend: he would speak quite fast, and his words sounded as though they were spurred on. Yet, when he began playing, each of his musical gestures would morph into a unique symbol. His tone was never coreless; instead it had utmost clarity, even in the lower register of the instrument. His sound palette was enormous, both dynamically and tonally.

Thanks to Mr Neikrug’s superb and fearless rendition of Scherzo- Tarantelle by Wieniawski, as well as his amazing take on the cadenza from Paganini’s Violin Concerto in D major, I believe we now live in the golden era of the cello: we are fearlessly tackling the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso by Saint-Saëns, Zigeunerweisen by Sarasate, and we do not intend to stop there. He was among the pioneers on this path.

Mr Neikrug used to say, ‘Teaching is one profession where your skills increase with age.’ I can only add: George Neikrug’s way of teaching is having an ever-increasing effect on my own. After my last conversation with Mr Neikrug, which occurred on his 100th birthday, his second wife Virginia said to me: ‘George believes his time has passed.’ I dare to disagree: ‘Dear Mentor, your time will not pass as long as there is music, a musician and a listener.’

‘GEORGE IMMEDIATELY ACCEPTED THE ENGAGEMENT, KNOWING THAT HE WAS COMMITTED TO PERFORMING A PIECE IN TWO WEEKS THAT HE HAD NEVER PLAYED’ 

‘Teaching is one profession where your skills increase with age’ – George Neikrug

I hope that these anecdotes have helped paint a picture of this unique and brilliant cellist. As far as my own recollections are concerned, I remember Neikrug’s virtuosity – how he could lie down on the floor and play a sautillé passage flawlessly, but I also remember so many of the little things, like the way he would refer to some of his principles of technique with a particular number – for example, the idea of jumping the hand from the current position to facilitate a successful and natural shift was ‘Rule 38b’. Of course, whenever he cited a principle by number, he always had that humorous twinkle in his eye.

I am hopeful that a book about George Neikrug will eventually be written. In the meantime, I encourage you to look up the various videos of him or about him online and also to read his remarkable article about Dounis in the October 1954 edition of The Strad (vol.65 no.774).