After 10 minutes, Conductor Mstislav Rostropovich appeared on stage and strode confidently to the podium. At one stroke of his baton, the humming sound was synchronized, transformed instantly into music that an overcome local critic claimed to be "a sound directly from heaven."
As members of the first symphony orchestra to visit the Republic of China in 17 years, the 116 musical ambassadors from the capital of the United States, under the direction of Rostropovich, charmed the audience for two consecutive nights, on April 23 and 24, with its rich, powerful and at the same time delicate music.
To reciprocate the friendly visit of the National Symphony Orchestra, the concerts, described as "Friendship Through Music," were televised by the Republic of China to the Washington, D.C. area via satellite, and broadcast on American PBS Channel 32.
Orchestra members at the National Palace Museum —Viewing the glories of China-past
Often referred to as the "Orchestra of the Presidents," the National Symphony Orchestra has participated in every American presidential inauguration, except one, since its founding in 1931. It also bears the distinction of being the only orchestra in the United States whose home is a national monument, the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.
The audience at the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall applauded enthusiastically almost from the opening curtain, when the orchestra performed the national anthems of the Republic of China and the United States.
The first televised concert selection was a Chinese composition, the first andante movement of the Pangti Bamboo F1ute Concerto by Professor Ma Sui-long, a local composer. The concerto, of two movements and a coda, was composed two years ago and has been performed by several orchestras here. It is widely familiar to local audiences since the introduction section of the first movement is used as theme music by the Broadcasting Corporation of China—"The Sound of the BCC." The audience was delighted with the orchestra's interpretation, which caught the optimistic, adventurous spirit of Chinese humanism with perfect skill, and an exotic foreign touch.
When asked in an interview why he focused on the Pangti bamboo flute, Professor Ma said it was because the "Pangti presents a clear, graceful, delicate, and lively quality. which evokes the poetic and picturesque scenes of the Chiangnan (south bank of the Yangtze River), as well as the Chinese people's perseverance in adversity."
And when asked to compare the performances of his composition by the National Symphony and local orchestras, Professor Ma said they are: "different. Since we are more emotionally involved in our own works, we can better grasp their essences. But foreign interpretations present a special flavor, just as Fu Chung's interpretation of Chopin and Rubenstein's are entirely different."
The Maestro, with soloist Chen Chung-shen—Acknowledging the applause
Bamboo flute soloist Chen Chung-shen, born in 1956, has improved his artistic skills since he won the "Five Lights" award on a popular local variety show. The bamboo flute is about half the size-and one octave higher-as compared to the Western flute.
With the same precision, the National Symphony delivered to the Taipei audience the full beauty of several Western classical masterpieces: Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 in E Flat Major, the Eroica; Samuel Barber's Adagio for String Orchestra, Op.11; and Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition.
Rostropovich conducts with head and hands simultaneously. His facial transformations reflect changes in musical pace and mood. At times he threw his arms upward, his fingers bent, as if trying to scratch supporting music down from the heavens.
Rostropovich's powerful first-night interpretation of Shostakovich's Symphony No.8 in C Minor, Op. 65 took the audience by storm. "It was like 100 armed cavalrymen galloping across the stage. The strings were at their fiercist, the brass calling the heavens. Maestro Rostropovich is the master creator of moods," said Hwang Wu-lan of the United Daily New's, one of Taiwan's leading newspapers.
Professor Ma also had extravagant praise for the Shostakovich performance: "It is his (Rostropovich's) culture, his blood and tears, his sufferings and his music." The adagio in the fourth movement especially shows the expertise of the conductor and his orchestra. The quiet on the eve of the storm is under infinite tension. The first players of wind instruments were magnificent in both technique and interpretation.
Mr. and Mrs. Rostropovich at a reception in their honor
Above all, the audience was charmed by Rostropovich's personal performance on the podium. His distinctive artistic air and refined conductorial skills moved the orchestra members, as well as the audience. His hands, now reaching out soothingly, now cleanched in seeming anger, filled Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall with musical beauty.
The conductor's friends call him Slava, and describe Slava's hands as beautiful—long, slender, strong—like exquisitely carved jade. In his performance, you could perceive no trace of painstaking practice. His face always brims with a luster of happiness and emotional overflow—a magnetism overcoming an otherwise plain, even cloistered appearance.
As the last note of the Shostakovich sounded, the audience stood, screaming its "Bravos," pleading for "encores." With a massive outpouring of emotion, they kept the orchestra from leaving even after two encores and five curtain calls.
Rostropovich has his own personal method of stimulating an orchestra in rehearsal. When he desired an effect of twanging strings, he asked the group players, to "give me the sound of popping champagne." When he wanted a particularly tender effect: "Say to your musical instruments that you love them in the way you do your sweethearts." And when a certain sound of shock and helplessness was required: "Pretend that your wife has just walked into the room where you are meeting your lover."
He once said: "A conductor is not to make music but to influence the birth of music. Which part of his nature must he resort to influence his members? Not entirely gestures. You must first hypnotize your group members before making them understand. The andante in a musical score may be a sweet sound or a prelude to terror."
The maestro is also noted for his warmth with friends. Once, attending the funeral service of an orchestra member, he grasped the now still hands and stayed there, mute, for a long time. Then he sat down in front of the coffin, placed his cello between his knees, and played two melancholy pieces from Bach.
The famous Russian writer, Nobel Prize winner Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, is his friend, and at a press conference on arrival here, he took time out to indicate their closeness. "We are happy to come here for this concert. Before I arrived, I had many impressions of free China, and I completely agree with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's viewpoint on this nation," he declared.
The National Symphony and its audience in a shared moment of triumph and emotion
Rostropovich has been acclaimed as a courageous, freedom-dedicated human being. He sheltered his compatriot, for four years during Solzhenitsyn's ordeal in the Soviet Union, in outright disregard of the Soviet regime's warnings.
Since the concerts were recorded by the Taiwan Television Co. (TTV), all of the people of the Republic of China were later given the opportunity to share the performances via island-wide telecasts May 7 and 8.
Noticeably, not only the audience, but also the orchestra and Rostropovich himself enjoyed the concerts immensely. At a post-concert reception co-hosted by the Ministry of Education, Council of Cultural Planning and Development, and the Government Information Office, the maestro declared that he had never enjoyed a concert as much, and that here, the "transparent curtain" that he sometimes feels between himself and the audience was totally lifted. "We had both music and friendship," he said.
ROC Premier Sun Yun-suan walked up on stage at the end of the program on the 24th, first to offer his congratulations to Concert Master William Steck, and then to exchange an emotional bear-hug with Maestro Rostropovich.
Famed cellist Rostropovich also performed, accompanying his wife, soprano Galina Vishnevskaya, in a recital at the Memorial Hall on April 22.
One story concerning them has it that Galina is sometimes unhappy over the extent of her husband's work mania. To make up for this unhappiness, he found a special piece of land and set up a country cottage in New York State, in an area where the landscape looks like their native place. What is more, a Russian Orthodox church stands next to it. One night, he drove her there for the first time and pretended unintentionally to stop by the spot. He parked the car by his land, and got out—then took out a poem written by himself. He intended to recite it to Galina, but the moonlight was too dim. So he knelt down to make use of the car's headlights. But when he suddenly knelt, Galina flew into a panic, thinking Slava was having a heart attack. Slava took hold of her hands and led her to the residence. All of a sudden, the lights were turned on, flowing out of the villa's windows. Tchaikovsky's music resounded in the garden, and they danced arm in arm.
He is a legend in music for his exceptional mastery of the cello, but also for his piano performances and his skills as a conductor. In recognition of his cello artistry, a number of world-renowned composers have written works dedicated to him, including Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Misakovisky, Khachaturian, Kabalevsky, Sauguet, Piston, Bernstein and Britten.
Rostropovich took up his post as musical director of the National Symphony Orchestra in 1977, and under his leadership, the orchestra has received worldwide acclaim.
Though Rostropovich left his country nine years ago, he can never forget his ordeal in his native land. "To think of it makes me heartsore. When I was in danger, and cried every night on the pillow, thinking about committing suicide, who stood up to speak for me? Who dared to air a justified statement in front of the authorities?"
He continued: "In the Soviet government's viewpoint, the only mistake I made was to let Solzhenitsyn stay in my home. But I will never admit that this is a mistake, even upon the day I die. I am proud of it."