DEEP THINKER

For Leonidas Kavakos, recording Bach’s Solo Sonatas and Partitas has been the culmination of a 30‐year artistic journey and, as the violinist tells Charlotte Smith, the works have a pertinent message for our troubled times

Leonidas Kavakos performs Unsuk Chin’s Second Violin Concerto with Simon Rattle conducting the LSO

MARK ALLAN

‘Around 1989, a good friend of mine –a doctor with one of the largest album collections you could imagine – lent me a recording of solo Bach by the Belgian Baroque violinist Sigiswald Kuijken. Up to that point, I thought my Bach playing was fine. After all, I’d been awarded the Bach prize at the International Violin Competition of Indianapolis in 1986 by a jury that included Henryk Szeryng – who alongside Grumiaux and Milstein had produced the must-hear Bach recordings for any young person at that time. But Kuijken’s recording was such a shock to me: a positive shock in terms of how this music could sound, and a negative one in terms of how I had been playing it. It was like an earthquake.’

I’m speaking to Leonidas Kavakos about Sei solo, his new recording of Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas for Sony. It’s perhaps surprising that this is the first time the celebrated Greek violinist has committed the complete set to disc, and that 20 years have passed since he recorded his album featuring the First Sonata and the First Partita interspersed with Stravinsky’s Duo concertant and Suite italienne for ECM in 2002. But his reason for waiting until the relatively advanced age of 53 (his age when the recording was made in December 2020) to put his personal stamp on the seminal works dates to that revelation of more than three decades ago.

It prompted a complete and fundamental rethink of his approach to Bach – so much so that it would be nine years before he would perform the works live in concert again. And rather than race to share his new insights with the world on disc, Kavakos decided to wait until his new attitude felt ‘natural’.

It’s true that at the time of the partial 2002 recording it had been 13 years since Kavakos first heard Kuijken’s album, so he’d had plenty of time to develop his revised approach to Bach: ‘By then, it was not totally new to me any more – but it was still much newer then than it is now,’ he qualifies. ‘On this 2022 recording, the slow movements are more deliberately narrated, and the fugues breathe and swing more. It’s better structured and there’s greater emphasis on the polyphony.’

Kavakos with Herbert Blomstedt and the Boston Symphony Orchestra

HILARY SCOTT

‘TUNING THE INSTRUMENT LOWER CREATES SPACE SO THAT THE BASS NOTES ACTUALLY SOUND LIKE BASS NOTES. AND A DARKER G-STRING COLOUR CAN AFFECT THE COLOUR OF THE D, A AND E STRINGS’

So, what did Kavakos hear that so altered his outlook in 1989? ‘First of all, the lower tuning on that album completely opened up the sound of the violin,’ he says. ‘The lower frequency creates space so that the bass notes actually sound like bass notes. Because the violin is a highfrequency instrument, we generally miss the depth of the lower registers. But more than that, a darker G-string colour can also affect the colour of the D, A and E strings, making them sound freer. Perhaps it’s a bit less powerful because there’s less tension on the bridge, but the sound is so much more relaxed and singing – and the instruments love it!’

This singing quality went hand in hand with the second element of Kuijken’s recording –a move away from the allconsuming seriousness of recordings of the time to a lighter, ‘swinging’ style. ‘Bach’s music is the most perfect music ever written, and he was a source of inspiration to all composers who came afterwards,’ explains Kavakos. ‘But his music is a reflection of life, and life is not always serious – there is also humour and dancing, and uplifting moods to counter the darker ones.’

But these differences in style and tonal colour paled in comparison with the technical matter of chord distribution. ‘There is no law in mathematics that two plus two equals three. But when we violinists are presented with a three-note chord, for some reason we divide it two and two,’ he marvels. ‘I don’t believe this is correct in any circumstance; but particularly in Bach’s music, which is full of such chords, this becomes very tiring – and it makes it seem like our instrument, the “poor violin”, isn’t really capable of supporting Bach’s concept of polyphony.

‘Instead, we should look at the notes of the chord as if they are different actors in a stage play. In a three-note chord there are three actors, each pronouncing one word. Most important in this situation is timing, because if all three performers say their word together and with the same emphasis, this will confuse the audience. The voices shouldn’t sound equally and at the same time. Instead there should be an inequality in terms of note distribution. It’s also important to remember that not all chords must follow gravity and the curve of the bridge to end on the E string. It’s possible to promote the melody with the right support from voices both above and beneath the line.’

The shift towards lightness and buoyancy might seem in keeping with the use of a more nimble and dexterous Baroque bow, but Kavakos is adamant that his modern bow is the better tool for performing these works. Again, the decision relates to chord distribution. ‘Using a Baroque or Classical stick would force me to play most of the chords with a down bow, and I don’t have that restriction with my modern bow,’ he explains. ‘A Baroque or Classical bow is so useful in learning how to treat the music – it leads you to play as it should be played. But once you have that knowledge, there is simply no period bow that can match the capability of a great bow by Tourte or Peccatte.’

Technical considerations aside, Kavakos is deeply preoccupied with the psychological and philosophical implications of his Bach project. The album title, Sei solo, relates to the opening page of Bach’s autograph score, which reads: ‘Sei solo a violino senza basso accompagnato’.

The inscription should, in fact, be in the plural form, ‘Sei soli’ or ‘Six solos’, but Bach appears to be using a pun to refer obliquely to the recent death of his first wife, Maria Barbara – ‘sei solo’ translating from the Italian to mean ‘you are alone’.

‘To me, this is a message for the whole of humanity,’ explains Kavakos. ‘The Sonatas and Partitas are secular music, but still take the form of a prayer. They are a contemplation for a moment when one is alone. And in fact they represent solitude not only acoustically but also visually: that image of the violinist on stage without even the bulk of a larger instrument like the piano for company. We can do our best thinking when we aren’t distracted – and particularly in this modern world of constant harassment by publicity and advertising, that’s so important.’

To highlight this message, Kavakos is performing the works in venues of historical significance during an album tour in late 2022 and 2023. ‘The great challenge of being human is that we are capable of both miracles and disasters,’ he says. ‘In all things there is a moment of choice, just as Hercules in Greek mythology has to choose between the path of virtue and the path of evil. So I want to perform Bach, with his message of contemplation, in venues that have been linked to great or horrible moments in human history.’

‘TO ME, THE SONATAS AND PA RTITAS ARE A CONTEMPL ATION FOR A MOMENT WHEN ONE IS ALONE’

With Emanuel Ax and Yo-Yo Ma at Carnegie Hall

JENNIFER TAYLOR

A deeper connection to the music: conducting the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra

JAN-OLAV WEDIN

‘DUR ING THE PANDEMIC, THE ARTS WERE SIDELINED AS AN ACTIVITY OF PERSONAL CHOICE. SCIENCE WAS THERE TO TAKE CARE OF US BIOLOGIC A LLY, BUT THE SPIRITUAL ASPECT WAS IGNOR ED’

Of course, one cannot escape the significance of an album focusing on solitude in an age of lockdown-induced isolation. The timing might be incidental, but is the lesson that we are all on our own one that Kavakos endorses? ‘The message of contemplation and choice applies to the pandemic as well,’ he says. ‘Now we’re at a crossroads, it’s up to us to secure a more compassionate future.’

In no area is he more passionate about the idea of growth and change than in that pertaining to attitudes to the arts, which he believes the pandemic has revealed to be deeply flawed. That governments the world over have chosen to shut down concert halls and theatres during successive lockdowns, effectively silencing all forms of culture, is as much the fault of artists themselves as it is of narrow-minded ministers. ‘In all these years, we musicians have not managed to explain to the wider public why the arts are so important, besides the fact that they happen to be our profession,’ he stresses. ‘But the burden is on us to show that they are of fundamental importance to the psychological and spiritual well-being of all.

‘I’m aware, coming from Greek ancestry, that the role of the arts in ancient times was mainly therapeutic. Most of the Greek theatres were connected to sanctuaries, where people went to be healed. That’s what poetry was about, that’s what dance was about, that’s what music was about and that’s what theatre was about. Yet during the pandemic, the arts were sidelined as they were viewed as an activity of personal choice. Science was there to take care of us biologically, but the spiritual aspect was ignored. So now we will emerge from this pandemic physically healthy, but mentally destroyed.’

It seems appropriate, following so many months of silent concert halls, that 2022 began for Kavakos with the world premiere of Unsuk Chin’s Second Violin Concerto, Scherben der Stille (‘Shards of Silence’), on 6 January with the London Symphony Orchestra and Simon Rattle. The premiere was in fact due to take place in January 2021, but as pandemic restrictions would have prevented a large orchestra from performing together and a live audience from attending, the decision was made to postpone the concerto’s UK and US performances for a year. The North American premiere is now due to take place at the beginning of March with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Andris Nelsons.

Kavakos – who at the time of our interview had yet to premiere the work – is full of admiration for the concerto’s ‘colourful writing, multiple harmonics and extremely difficult left-hand pizzicato passages’; he’s also, as with the Bach, taken with its title. ‘When Unsuk first wrote to me about the piece I was amazed, as I’ve been preoccupied for some time with the way that music emerges from – and concludes in –a state of silence,’ he says. ‘I did a concert in Athens some years ago where all three works in the programme ended in complete silence.

I had asked the audience not to applaud and simply to leave whenever they felt it was right to do so – be that immediately, or five or ten minutes after we’d stopped playing. So it was wonderful to be working with a composer who was exploring this very topic.’

Despite being fired up by the idea of introducing new compositions to audiences, Kavakos isn’t totally addicted to the new. ‘I feel we don’t know nearly enough about the works we have already,’ he reveals. ‘It’s like scientists discovering planets light years away, yet still failing to solve the problems that we have on Earth. It’s not that we shouldn’t have new music – we absolutely should, and some of it may even be great – but I don’t agree with those who question why we’re performing Tchaikovsky and Beethoven again. Of course we are! The classics are eternal – they were there before us and they will be there long after we’ve gone.’

It’s this desire to continue exploring the existing musical canon that lies behind the most recent development in Kavakos’s long and distinguished career: his foray into the world of conducting – for although he describes the violin as ‘one of the most beautiful instruments’, he admits that there are limitations to its repertoire. ‘Most of the composers were pianists, which helped them with polyphonic voicing, so although we violinists have great works, there aren’t enough of them,’ he says. ‘If I really want to understand late Mozart, for example, I have to look at a symphony or a piano concerto or an opera. If I simply study the violin works – even the great sonatas – my understanding will be limited.

GREGOR HOHENBERG/SONY MUSIC ENTERTAINMENT

But it was actually the music of Bruckner that first attracted me to conducting. The first time I heard his orchestral music it felt as if the sky had opened, and it was a sound world that I needed to experience first-hand.’

Kavakos’s conducting engagements have gradually expanded in recent years, and he has now taken to the podium for such leading ensembles as the New York Philharmonic, Houston Symphony, Dallas Symphony Orchestra, Vienna Symphony, Chamber Orchestra of Europe, Orchestra Filarmonica della Fenice and the Danish National Symphony Orchestra. During the current 2021–2 season, he is artist-in-residence at Radio France, performing as a soloist and conducting the Orchestre philharmonique de Radio France and Orchestre national de France.

Not only has conducting enabled him to explore larger symphonic works, but it has also allowed him to develop a deeper relationship with the orchestra. ‘As a soloist, you get to know the players in time, but practically speaking you’re still standing with your back to them,’ he says. ‘Throughout my career, I’ve come to understand that you cannot work well with musical colleagues without chemistry – even if you’re all perfect in what you do. It’s a different level of communication, almost spiritual, and it’s especially important for conducting, because conducting is more miraculous than playing an instrument.

In the moment of performance, there are no words, but a more profound exchange that passes between the conductor and the orchestra. I’ve always found that fascinating.’

As in his Bach performances, it’s the transcendental quality of music making that interests Kavakos most – the connections between silence, personal reflection and communication. Such introspection and care have served him well throughout a decades-long career, and in a post-pandemic world seem all the more appropriate.

Sei solo: Bach Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin is reviewed on page 86