Ara Malikian giving a radio performance in Madrid (2011)
If you can overlook the various affectations upon which he has opted to found his stage persona -
the hair which signifies his wild, untamed hippie character ...
the clothes which speak of his unconventional, dandy-bohemian aspect ...
the constant grinning and jigging about which demonstrates his vital, joyful nature ...
- then the fact is that Ara Malikian is a genius with the violin; one who was taught to play not by gypsies or demons, but by some of the finest classical tutors in Berlin and London. Thus he has an extensive old-school repertoire, but has brilliantly added contemporary works to this and beautifully assimilated the musical styles of various cultures (Arab, Jewish, European, and South American).
Of course, some critics cannot overlook the hair, the clothes, or the exuberance - and won't forgive him these things either. This is unfortunate, but comes as no surprise. For we saw much the same unforgiving nastiness a few years back in the case of Nigel Kennedy, whose persona was also regarded by some as vulgar, ludicrous, and offensive. In 1991, for example, he was dismissed with sneering contempt as Liberace with a mockney accent by Sir John Drummond, one of the most formidable figures in the UK arts world at that time and Controller of BBC Radio 3.
It's precisely such remarks made by such people that make me sympathetic to performers such as Kennedy and Malikian. I may not feel fully comfortable myself with the way they look, speak, or behave, but oh how I love them in comparison to their enemies within the music establishment!
That is to say, the elderly grey ones who suck the life out of everything - including the works of the great composers whom they claim to revere - by insisting on painfully self-conscious technique at the expense of all passion; and the privileged high-brows who listen in a sort of ecstasy in order to receive the correct spiritual thrill, but feel nothing.
That is to say, the elderly grey ones who suck the life out of everything - including the works of the great composers whom they claim to revere - by insisting on painfully self-conscious technique at the expense of all passion; and the privileged high-brows who listen in a sort of ecstasy in order to receive the correct spiritual thrill, but feel nothing.
Overtures prop us to shut up with some brass notes and rotten tomatoes are now out of the question. So, until the end of the show, when we hope some connoisseur will prompt us to applaud (if there is not such a figure in the audience, embarrassed claps might break at any time to the shadenfraude of many), we will cough a little; just enough to reassure ourselves that in darkness and silence we didn’t forget to breath and swallow. Which is all a shame, really. Not that we didn’t choke, no. And I’m not advocating chattering during performances either, much less throwing fruit & veggies onto the stage, or what would be in a twist of modern events, discount lingerie. But…, is it so bad to show some kind of engagement or response to what we listen and see? Why must everyone feel they have to be so darned serious?
ReplyDeleteI’m all for performers who still want people to take part in the show. To feel there is some emotional connection and not just to recreate an imposture of understanding and appreciation. Who can really be so immobile and expressionless when affected by something? And if one is not stirred in any way, is it abstract concentration on the score or the script that our expressionless body denotes? Or just sheer boredom? Then, poor joy-cheated and cash-swindled devil, you.
That’s hardly possible with some artists. I think that they manage to transcend our fears, public inhibitions and misplaced courtesies. And, thus, when I saw Ara Malikian a few weeks ago, I only needed 5 minutes to realize he was formidable. He makes that violin of his get to us like a blind Cupid’s arrow and we no longer care if it is for the right or wrong reasons (though I am sure that technically he is a virtuoso too, I don’t care ). All of a sudden we feel alive and joyous and want everyone around us to partake of the experience. So, thank you Malikian, for inviting us to your world and make us participate in it. Shame we all had to bid him goodbye after a very short while. I do look forward to seeing him again soon.