Interview with pianist Ivo Kahánek

When did you first experience this work for yourself?

The very first time I encountered it was when I was in my 4th year at the Janáček Conservatoire in Ostrava; it was during a music history class with professor Navrátil, who played us the unforgettable Páleníček recording.

Martinů himself described the work as "an expression of the unfailing quest for the truth and significance of life, and a homage to music, the musician's refuge, his strength and weapon." Is this the fundamental impression you draw from the concerto as well? Or does it conjure up completely different associations and thoughts?

I think that this aspect more or less underlines the majority of consequential works of world music and I can also sense it in this piece. And it's here that I feel the presence of the permanent struggle between darkness and light, and hope and resignation. But it's all complexly encoded and swathed in mystery - which is typical for Martinů. However, the most pertinent characteristic of the work for me is the title he gave it, "Incantations", hence something akin to a magical invocation.

You chose Bohuslav Martinů, together with Janáček and Kabeláč, for your solo debut with Supraphon. To what extent is the work of this composer part of your life, and which concertos or recordings from Martinů's repertoire are among the most important for you?

Particularly in the year of his anniversary, Bohuslav Martinů's works literally follow my every move. Apart from Piano Concerto No. 4, these include the two "adjacent" concertos, Nos. 3 and 5, which I had the chance to perform with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra in Glasgow as part of a series of performances of his piano concertos (on this occasion I had to hand over No. 4 to famous American pianist Garrick Ohlsson), pieces for solo piano, and all sorts of chamber music, from the clarinet and cello, to the piano trio. There are, of course, many recordings which I truly appreciate. Of the piano recordings, apart from Páleníček's "Incantations" I mentioned above, I could name, for instance, two very fine performances of the Sonata - one by Jan Panenka and one by František Malý - and, naturally, all the wonderful renditions by Martinů's great friend Rudolf Firkušný.

You come from Frýdek-Místek, from a family of teachers. To what extent did this environment determine your professional career?

Surprisingly, quite a lot, even though no-one in our family took up music professionally. My mum and grandma were very good pianists, and my father's side produced a famous folk band - we were something like "obscure patriots" in a way. My gran often played for me, Janáček or Tchaikovsky's The Seasons, for instance. I was easily able to recognise the individual parts of On an Overgrown Path before I learned to read.

It was apparently your dream to study under professor Klánský, which is what you did, in fact. Did you have to work hard to make this dream come true or did things go surprisingly smoothly?

When I look back on it now, I suppose the process was pretty smooth, really. Most of the students go and see the professor for consultations on several occasions over a period of time before the entrance exams, but I only went to play for him once. But he knew how I played, having heard me at the Chopin Piano Competition in Mariánské Lázně.

Would you like to teach yourself one day? And, if so, what aspect would you emphasise, above all? What do you consider essential as a performer?

It's not just that I'd like to teach, but I already have pupils. Apart from occasionally helping out the professor at the Music Academy in Prague, I have four pupils attending the Art Faculty at Ostrava University. There are two things I think are fundamental: firstly, to teach pupils to think musically, to make them aware of the infinite ways to interpret the music, and to inspire them; secondly, to teach them to practise properly. The teacher can't do any more - the talent and personality of the pupil are the decisive factors.

You have so many achievements behind you. I know that, when you were entering a lot of competitions (therefore you needed to be in good physical condition), you used to go running. Do you still do sports? Is it beneficial for a musician?

Unfortunately I have very little time for sport; it's only in the summer holidays that I have the chance to get out more on my favourite mountain bike, or I put on my rucksack and set off into the mountains. But sport's a great thing for artists. Apart from keeping you in shape, it teaches you to lose, then to work on yourself, and it helps to improve your state of mind. Sometimes, even in cultural endeavours, it's important not to dwell on things for too long.

One of your competition trophies was second prize in the Concertino Praga competition in 1994. What is your memory of this radio project?

I look upon Concertino almost with affection: it was my first glimpse into the real world of music, and its atmosphere - from the mysterious corridors of the radio building to the concert platform in Prague and in South Bohemia - is deeply etched in my memory.

And if you were to assess your involvement with Czech Radio to date?

I don't want to sound obsequious, but I've rarely met so many kind, enthusiastic and, at the same time, totally professional people as I have here. So I would say it's been a truly positive experience and I hope that it will continue.

Have you worked together in concert with the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra and its Chief Conductor before?

I encountered conductor Vladimír Válek at the concert for the winners of the Concertino Praga. I was 16 at the time and, as the only Czech, I was to end the entire evening with Liszt's Piano Concerto in E flat major. You can imagine how scared I was. But the conductor was great, he was very supportive and everything turned out fine.

How would you characterise the true concert experience?

When I don't have the feeling I'm creating music, but that the music passes through me.

May that be the case in the Rudolfinum with the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra!