At 41, an age when most soloists are still busily conquering the world, Pinchas Zukerman has virtually done it all.
Though there are any number of reasons for Zukerman`s phenomenal international success as violinist, violist and conductor (he has appeared with most of the world`s best orchestras in all three roles), the sheer splendor of Zukerman`s sound has a great deal to do with it.
Certainly no solo string player performing today creates a deeper, richer or more lustrous tone than Zukerman, who will collaborate with Chicago`s Vermeer Quartet at 8 p.m. Feb. 4 in Orchestra Hall.
”To me, sound and harmony are very sensual things, so I am always trying to make exquisite sounds,” says Zukerman, whose sweetly singing style resembles that of another great Israeli violinist, Itzhak Perlman.
”Yes, Perlman and I have a common bond,” adds Zukerman. ”His parents are Polish, my parents are Polish; his family moved to Israel, so did mine, and so on. In other words, we come from a particular Jewish heritage that has to do with klezmer, which is a kind of gypsy playing.
”Now, to some people, klezmer is a terrible word, meaning hack music. But, really, it`s not that at all.
”The genuine klezmer bands, which are gone today, were like the Eastern European equivalent of the Benny Goodman band, or like black jazz musicians in America. It`s a folkloric music-and it`s incredibly powerful stuff.”
Indeed, it`s not difficult to pick up the echoes of the old Yiddish klezmer bands in the intensely lyrical, poignant playing of Zukerman-as well as that of Perlman, Shlomo Mintz, Nathan Milstein and other Eastern European and Israeli expatriates.
But in Zukerman`s case, high emotionalism always has been somewhat tempered by the depth and breadth of his intellect. In a typical Zukerman performance, such as the one he gave last summer in Ravinia`s Murray Theatre, every note carries significance-there are no throwaways or empty dramatic gestures.
”Most performers are fighting one battle most of their lives-the intellectual versus the emotional,” says Zukerman. ”It`s a battle you`ve never completed so long as you`re playing in public. But to me, music is not simply something to make a big effect with.
”It`s really a focal point of society. That`s why in times of war, in times of stress and heartache, people turn to music. It`s the only thing that can console you, it`s the only art that stands alone without words or external explanation.
”So when you`re performing, say, the G-Minor Symphony of Mozart, that`s holy stuff. You don`t mess around with that. It`s too important.”
Perhaps Zukerman`s seriousness in musical matters helps explain why a soloist of his stature is playing second fiddle, as it were, to the Vermeer Quartet, with whom he`ll take a non-solo role in string quintets of Mendelssohn and Mozart.
For Zukerman, the joy is in being out of the spotlight.
”There`s a distinct pleasure in just fitting in, in not being intrusive or obstructive of what`s happening in the music,” says Zukerman. ”It`s a delight to listen to what`s happening around me.
”And with a group as good as the Vermeer, I`m playing with what amounts to essentially one instrument-the quartet,” says Zukerman. ”You just forget about the four people and listen to the unit as a single instrument-and then you just go along with it, until it`s your turn to be heard with a particular phrase.
”In a way, it`s like talking in a room with five people. If you really want to get your point across, you`re going to talk a little louder, or you`re going to move your arm and say, `Hey, it`s my turn now.`
”That`s what chamber music is-conversation.”
For all of Zukerman`s idealism about his art, however, he also has had to face the hard-edged, business side of music-making. During his seven years as director of the esteemed St. Paul Chamber Orchestra (1980-87), Zukerman gave the ensemble an international profile-and proved himself to be nearly as deft with a baton as he is with a bow.
But he learned, as most music directors eventually do, that there`s a great deal more to running an orchestra than eliciting excellent performances. ”I wanted to make a big symphony orchestra, but that wasn`t happening at all,” says Zukerman, who satisfies his podium urges these days guest-conducting the Berlin Philharmonic, among other major ensembles.
”I wanted the orchestra to join forces with the Minnesota Opera, I wanted to do exciting projects with them under one roof, but it just wasn`t taking place.
”It`s not that I wasn`t happy with what I had-it`s just that I saw 10 years down the road what I needed to have.
”And there are only so many times you can explain to a businessman on the board, for instance, why it`s important to have a few extra musicians in the orchestra. I had to spend too many hours going over these things that I really felt should be a given.
”So that`s the main reason I thought someone else should work with the orchestra and see what they can do with it (the ensemble has since been taken over by a triumvirate of conductors: Hugh Wolff, Christopher Hogwood and John Adams).
”It was time to go.”
Yet despite the ups and down of Zukerman`s years in St. Paul, he evidently hasn`t lost his desire to shape orchestral affairs. Witness his recent decision to take the post of principal guest conductor of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra`s new International Music Festival. The festival, scheduled for this summer in Dallas` new Meyerson Center, will be devoted to music of Tchaikovsky, with Zukerman conducting and performing a broad range of scores. And, as ever, Zukerman is zealously championing music by contemporary composers, the long list including thorny scores by Pierre Boulez, Witold Lutoslawski, Joseph Schwanter and Toru Takemitsu (whom Zukerman calls ”a sort of Japanese Debussy-only much more than that”).
All of which represents a long journey from Zukerman`s childhood in Tel Aviv, where he was born the same year that Israel became a state (1948). Before he could read, he was taking up the recorder, clarinet and violin with his father, studying at the Israel Conservatory by age 8 and soon after capturing the attention of Isaac Stern and Pablo Casals.
They took pains to help the gifted young violinist come to America in 1962 to study with the esteemed Ivan Galamian at the Juilliard School. By 1967 Zukerman had won the 25th Levintritt International Competition-and a star was born.
Since then, however, Zukerman has come to balk at musical contests: ”I will never sit on a jury,” he says. ”I can`t number or rank anybody`s playing, because it simply doesn`t mean anything.
”I worry a great deal, in fact, how young talent will be discovered and nurtured. The arts are the soul of a society, but I wonder if the arts in America aren`t in danger. Small orchestras are folding, some small towns have no music or arts whatsoever. If you don`t have the soul of a society, what`s left?”
As to his own future, Zukerman makes no predictions.
”I already know the down side of running an orchestra, so I don`t know if I would want to do that again,” says Zukerman.
”And yet-if the right offer came along, who knows? Things change, eh?”
