REVIEW OF “MUSIC AT THE ASHRAM” by James P. Coughlin
I MET “THE VIOLINIST MAESTRO.”
The event, “Music at the Ashram”, held on January 16, 2011
at the Yoga at the Ashram, a yoga studio in Millis MA, and hosted by the string
orchestra informally known as “Jagan Nath Friends” took place on a very
cold evening, perhaps on the coldest night of the year so far. But inside, and performing for an audience of
about fifty people, was a collective of musicians who share one thing: an absolute love of orchestra music. Most
important of all, they did not perform for the “almighty dollar,” for none of
them got more than a bit of gas money for their performance. But rather, they performed for the love of
the music, and that is so refreshing in today’s “dog eat dog” materialistic
society.
When asked to be a reviewer for their performance, I said to
myself, “I don’t know diddly about music.”
But now I do. As a result of
covering the orchestra’s dress rehearsal two days prior to the actual concert,
I came away learning more about instrumental music than I learned from an
entire course in music I took while in college.
What I learned is that music is a language and that
musicians, and most particularly this orchestra, are great communicators of
their art. What I was most impressed with is the fact that when someone is
playing their instrument, be it the violin, cello, the horn, flute, trumpet,
oboes or the harpsichord, [the predecessor of the piano] all of which are part
of this very special orchestra, that they are “communicating” in a “musical
way” that someone like me only learned for the first time. For example, the concertmaster is “the right
hand of the conductor” and in turn passes their ideas, musically, to other
musicians in their section, be it violin, flute or whatever.
The soloist in a concerto stands separately from the
orchestra. His musical ideas give the
general direction, but people look to the first stand violinist when there is
no conductor, for setting the beat and ending the pieces smoothly. In the case of Stanislav and Mozart, he
conducted with his bow and gave firm musical direction when they played with him,
but there are times when his solo part was entirely different than what the rest
of the orchestra plays, so at those times they were on our own and under the
direction of the lead first violinist. When
the soloist plays, he or she is the boss, as they are the main voice, musically
speaking.
Now, having said that the
“Soloist is the boss” you will soon learn at the end of my review that I was
not kidding. When I was very young, my mother told me, “James, the violin is a
very hard instrument to play.” Now, I know her words were very true.
The soloist,
Stanislav Antonevich served as the conductor for the dress rehearsal on
Thursday night, and I have to say he “was the boss” that night. However, in my
view when he did his Mozart solo, he truly was “the boss” at the Saturday night
concert performance, for he captured the energy of the entire audience. Stanislav felt it necessary to conduct the
orchestra to start us off with the right tempo and energy to match his solo
part to come. Initially, it is just the
orchestra and the first violinist sounding the opening theme. Then Stanislav takes over with all the
dazzle. On his business card, he calls himself, a
“Violinist Virtuoso”, which translates to being “a great violin player.” However, after me as the non-musician heard
him play this piece, I said to his mother, “No, your son is not only a
violinist virtuoso, but he is “The Violinist Maestro.” Needless to say, my compliment to her son was
“music to both of their ears,” pardon the pun. In playing what I believe was a
very complicated Mozart musical piece, the Concerto No. 3 in G major, Stanislav
did not even look at his sheet music, nor was there even sheet music on
“standby.” This is astounding but not
unusual in the solo world. Soloists with
orchestras rarely ever read music. They
have it memorized. What is even greater testament to his being “The Violinist
Maestro” was that he loved the music so much, he literally played as if his
life depended upon it. In playing, he
broke into a profuse sweat that I could only liken to running water. Said
another way, I believe that his sweat was not really a sweat but for him it was
“musical tears of joy.” When I later
asked him about his intensity, having no sheet music and, most importantly,
about his sweat, he said, “It was Mozart,” as he flashed as broad smile. When
he told me that, I could tell from the brightness of his aura, that Stanislav
is a man in love with his violin music, and most importantly with his
instrumental musical role model, none other than Mozart himself.
Objectively speaking, some people sweat profusely, others
don’t. It’s not an absolute thermometer
of musical love, but in Stanislav’s case it truly is.
I believe that Stanislav is a living embodiment of what
music should be done for: not for profit, but rather for the love of what it
really is being done for: for the love
of the art, science and communication that it is, and secondarily to entertain
the audience, especially on perhaps the coldest night in January.
I believe that
Stanislav does not even have to call himself, “Violinist Virtuoso” because if
one hears him play, one will come away, as I did, absolutely convinced that he
is “The Maestro Violinist.” So, because he played the way he did, it is more
than obvious that he is a “Maestro.” A great
rabbi from Lithuania, himself a survivor of the Holocaust during World War II,
once told me, “If one is a great leader (of any kind), they don’t need to boast
and call themselves a ‘leader’ because it will be obvious.”
So, I say to Stanislav, “You don’t need to call yourself a
‘Violinist Virtuoso,’ anymore.“ Instead just play your Mozart piece and let the
audience then agree with me that you, indeed, are “The Violinist Maestro.”
In my view, you are a breath of fresh air to the music
industry, today.
Keep on playing, Stanislav, you “Violinist Maestro”!
END
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