Music, like a true human being, a mensch, should inspire.
In Yiddish mensch means an honorable person; someone to admire; someone with a sense of what is right and responsible. In German mensch means simply, a human being.
TV Star Searches today hold the opposite position. Paneled by monstrous sorts, happy to wound with blistering criticism, judges issue comments designed to make audiences gasp and innocent participants feel inferiority forever.
We know their brutality sells advertising and boosts TV ratings. So we also know why they do it. The judges, heartless and smug, enjoy the fruits of their miserable outbursts with vacation homes on tropical islands in peace and tranquility.
Even among classical musicians, the same brutality exists. Some Russians I have worked with were brought up with a hard, old-school training. They say to students: “Sounds lousy; why bother? Become a gardener, instead.” These comments come from the mouths of some very famous musicians, those whose names might shock you.
Yet there are other methods of training—mensch methods.
I have often been touched to see a colleague’s face light up after some nicely placed comment is made, meant to inspire and encourage.
Most particularly, I remember classes at Juilliard back in the 1970s. I must have been 18 years old with little experience yet, but with plenty of passion to learn. We were all in a classroom with our instruments. In the same class were accomplished virtuosi and players of lesser skill. Leading us in sight-reading sessions was my former teacher, the great American violist Lillian Fuchs.
Lillian Fuchs was about 4 feet 11 inches tall and a musical giant.
Her beautiful face came alive with every musical modulation and reflected, as well, the radiance of her personality. She had more talent in her toe than any of the aforementioned judges in their whole bodies or even in their imaginations. Awesome, powerful in her obvious presence and knowledge, she knew every note.
Yet when she offered criticism it was filtered through decency and heart. She spoke from honesty but only said what was necessary to recreate the greatest literature in the music world.
I don't remember anyone ever loving music more. When a beautiful phrase was played, she stopped the group, and with the audience on the edge of their chairs, she said: “Now play that phrase again and listen to how beautiful this Brahms’ quartet really is.”
This represented the true joy of music, and I rarely ever experienced a student leaving that class not positively uplifted and inspired.
By instinct and by actuality, knowing how tough a life in music was—the dedication it required—she lent the support necessary to pursue this difficult path. She loved the students, and they respected her greatly.
It is true: Lillian Fuchs loved music, and she loved the students. What an elegant and magnanimous model she set for all of us—a combination of tremendous integrity and fabulous natural musical instincts separated her from the rest.
I miss this mensch, this human being, and her one of a kind heart and soul very much.
[i]
Eric Shumsky is a concert violist. For more information, see www.shumskymusic.com[/i]
