Interview with oboist Vilém Veverka

Can you tell us a little about your family background? How did it influence your becoming a professional musician?

My mother is a musicologist. She taught at the Prague Conservatory and now works at the Dvořák museum. From a young age I was surrounded by all kinds of music (including contemporary). However, for a long time it was not clear that I would dedicate myself to music, because I certainly wasn’t outstanding at it as child, and didn’t show too much talent. I arrived at the oboe, which to me was completely alien then, because mum knew Professor F. X. Thurim, who I studied under at the conservatory. One thing that led me into more intensive work was the Concertino Praga competition, which I prepared for single-mindedly.

What do you regard as the turning points of your career?

My education was a turning-point, specifically the fact that at 17 I met the leading French oboist Jean-Louis Capezzalim. And also the fact that at 19 I auditioned for the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra (František Kimel, a solo oboist at the Czech Philharmonic, prepared me for it intensively). At the ‘Mahler’ I met somebody who had a crucial influence on my further formation, Dominik Wollenweber, with whom I studied for five years in Berlin. (At the same time I studied under Liběna Sequardtová at the Academy of Performing Arts music faculty).

In 2003 you beat 114 other musicians to win the biggest oboe competition in Tokyo. What did that trophy bring you?

That victory represented a certain verification of the rightness of my Path, a confirmation of the legitimacy of what I do, and what I would like to keep doing. By that I mean systematic work in the field of solo and chamber playing.

How did you find being a student of the “Karajan” orchestral academy, which functions as part of the Berlin Philharmonic?

My two seasons at the Berlin Philharmonic (with which I first played at 22) were a beautiful, unforgettable time. It was the fulfilment of a dream I’d had for ages. I got the chance to see the very best at close quarters, to work with the greatest of conductors. I was able to become familiar with their total dedication to music. The environment of the Berlin Philharmonic certainly determined a great deal for me. Even now I really only look at things through that prism.

It appears you’ve found a smooth path through the world of music. But everything is never that rosy of course…What for you is the most demanding aspect of the musician’s life?

I’m not sure I would agree with your impression that it’s been a smooth path…It would be easier if I’d been for instance a good violinist (though of course I regard the oboe as more interesting!). In any case, I have to be conscious of and admit that every day I de facto start from zero. That music demands the whole of a person. There’s an alignment of one’s personal and professional life. I occasionally see that older colleagues have lost their motivation and ideals. Evidently it’s not easy to maintain the energy that drives us to keep going.

What for you is the essence of your professional life?

What is essential is not to stop looking for the heart of a thing and the sense of interpretation, to convey emotions…

As well as a penchant for the informed interpretation of Old Music, you are greatly dedicated to the presentation of contemporary music. How did you get into it? And what advice would you give those who have a hard time embracing it?

Contemporary music is a challenge for a musician in that you have to overcome considerable, sometimes extreme requirements. My relationship to that “extreme” began around the time I was 18, so at an age when a person is normally bedazzled by what’s called virtuoso music (which in fact does not have any great value). In those days I studied the B. A. Zimmermann Concerto and became interested in other pieces by composers like Holliger, Berio, Yun. Taking slow steps, I looked for and discovered other further possibilities on the instrument – that continues to this day! It involves a certain philosophy, finding the extremes, the borders of music. But it’s very logical, because the most important concertos and chamber pieces were actually created in the first half of the 20th century. Everything starts with R. Strauss’s Concerto, while we see the advent of new music in the B. A. Zimmermann Concerto, which makes great demands of the musician, and thanks to which we have one of the most beautiful and valuable opuses for oboe. The second level of this subject is that in modern pieces the oboe can freely compare with “traditional” solo instruments like the violin or piano. Chopin can “suffice” for a pianist all his life, but an oboist in a similar role would be literally unqualified, and as a matter of fact uninteresting. The “problem” of contemporary music is that listeners want to “understand” in the classical meaning of the word. They look therefore for the same principles and an aesthetic similarity to classical-romantic music. That is a basic mistake. (If I can make a comparison with the visual arts – there are those who decorate their spaces with a modern, undoubtedly expensive picture, despite the fact they understand it just as little as contemporary music.) The right approach is to let the music work on you, just to take in the colours, the new sounds…

You also have teaching experience? How do you enjoy that role? Would you like to teach more?

Right now I feel that the most important thing is to play. I find that most students have a lack of will power. There are only a few I would like to dedicate time to. However, I can imagine that in the future I would like to teach, partly because I would like to pass on the learning and methods that I had the chance to get to know in Berlin.

Let’s take a break from music for a moment. You also do photography, and not just at a superficial level: you have had an exhibition entitled “Man of Three Faces – Oboist, Photographer, Mountain Climber”. What drew you to those activities?

My father got me interested in photography and mountains. Now I can’t really imagine mountains without photography. As with music, in this field I also try my very best to interpret precisely those beautiful, and for most hard to reach, places. For me photography is a kind of counterpoint to music. I renew my physical and spiritual strength in the mountains. If all I did was music it would lead to a certain one-dimensionality, as a result of which I couldn’t be such a well-rounded musician. Hopefully some day I’ll reach an 8,000-metre peak (if music allows it), and, to exaggerate a bit, bring some of that experience to music, though that may sound absurd…Or put it this way: I’ve taken this path and worked to achieve a certain knowledge. Listen to my music, which issues through me. Or like this – in the mountains I find solitude. And we know well that “without solitude there is no depth, so no genuine art either”.

I’m fascinated by your language skills. You speak Italian, French, German and English. Are you naturally talented, or a toiler?

As regard languages (and not just languages), I’m more of a lazy type…But perhaps my grandfather, who was a translator, bequeathed me some talent (along with dictionaries). The language I’m closest to, or to be more precise my favourite language, is French. Nevertheless, we often underestimate the “lyrical” quality of German. Consider the lyrics of the songs (and symphonies) of Gustav Mahler. German has perhaps the greatest potential to underline the depth of music. All it takes is four words: “Die Welt ist tief.” Or to put it like this – is any language capable of evoking intimacy like the following verse?
An jenem Tag im blauen Mond September
Still unter einem jungen Pflaumenbaum
Da hielt ich sie, die stille bleiche Liebe
In meinem Arm wie einen holden Traum.
(Bertolt Brecht)

Do you know, no musician has ever given us a verse? Thank you! You’re playing Mozart’s concerto today. Where does his concerto stand in your own personal charts?

Mozart’s Concerto for Oboe is one of the pivotal compositions of classicism, so it is also (logically) one of the most visited of concertos. It’s obviously a beautiful piece, though I could more easily imagine Richard Strauss’s concerto at the Rudolfinum. Large spaces and “endless Strauss phrases” are of course closer to me…

What does your debut with the Radio Philharmonic mean to you?

After the Prague Philharmonia, with which I’ve performed as a soloist at home and abroad, it is the second important Prague orchestra that I’ve worked with. Which represents a certain peak on the Czech scene. By the way, when was the last time we heard a solo oboist with the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra? I’m very much looking forward to the concert!

Finally, how do you see the rest of your professional life, ideally? Would it involve orchestra, chamber or solo playing? Or would you like to focus on another area?

That’s a question not easily answered. I’d like devote more energy to solo playing, or more precisely to chamber music (and perhaps eventually to conducting?). On the other hand, it is necessary to say that the most fundamental literature is symphonic literature. A musician today should be as universal as can be, and if possible educated! The Swiss oboist, composer and conductor Heinz Holliger represents a certain (unparalleled) maximum in terms of being multi-faceted. I would be glad to follow his path in many ways. I believe I have started to achieve this, for instance in co-operation with Kateřina Englichová.

All that remains is to wish you a lot of luck and artistic success. Jitka Novotná