Interview by Aaron Grad
Alisa Weilerstein (c) Gerardo Antonio Sanchez Torres
You made your concerto debut playing Tchaikovsky’s “Variations on a Rococo Theme” at age 13. How has your approach to the piece developed since then?
It was the first piece I ever played with a professional orchestra, and it was the Cleveland Orchestra, so I was forever spoiled, I think. I’ve played it on and off since then, for almost 15 years. I would say the slow variations have changed the most, the third and the sixth. I relate to them in a more profound way than I used to. Not that I would say I am taking them more seriously, because I always took the piece seriously, but I think I have found more avenues of expression in them, and more creative ways of bringing out the operatic quality.
Can you say more about the operatic aspect of the piece?
Most of it is like a comic opera, five out of the seven variations. The theme is very optimistic, but it has this rare combination of wit and poise. I always used to think of the first variation like a prince’s jester dancing around and entertaining a court. Maybe there is even a circus act in the fifth variation.
It seems appropriate that you think of dance, since Tchaikovsky was such a master of ballet music. Is there anywhere else you sense that aspect of his music in the variations?
The first variation for sure, and the fourth variation as well. The fourth variation is a very flirtatious dance—very upright rhythms, and at that the same time very free and unpredictable. Maybe that is what makes it so great, that you have that dichotomy of being slightly outrageous and yet, in a way, quite serious. I enjoy playing around with those two ideas.
You are playing the Fitzenhagen edition of the Rococo Variations, rather than the original Tchaikovsky version. Why do you prefer that edition?
At the risk of offending Tchaikovsky, who apparently really hated the Fitzenhagen version, I think that it works better as a piece. The structure is more sound, and the order of the variations makes a lot more sense. Normally I am a bit of a purist, and I like to stick to what the composer originally intended, but in this case I feel that the Fitzenhagen version just works better as a cohesive whole.
Did your Russian History studies at Columbia University influence your thinking about this music?
Yes, absolutely. My specialty in history was more the 20th century, so not as much Tchaikovsky, but I took every 19th-century literature and drama class that was offered. Reading the literature informed me quite a lot.
Is there a particularly telling detail of the culture Tchaikovsky lived and worked in that you would point to?
I think you can find it all in Tolstoy! He gave a very good window into that.
Something striking in the video from your performance at the White House earlier this season is how engaged you are interpersonally. Your eyes light up at whomever you are playing with, whether it is Joshua Bell or an eight-year-old cello student. Can you speak to that sense of egalitarian dialogue in your chamber music playing?
I am not even entirely aware of that, because I don’t know how to play chamber music in any other way. I enjoy the interaction and the dialogue so much, and the spontaneity that occurs when you are really attuned to each other. I cannot imagine playing without that, just staring at my score or looking down at someone and not engaging them. You can’t achieve spontaneity without interacting and really empathizing with the other players. I actually try to make my concerto performances similar, whether with a conductor, or, in this case, with no conductor. So I really look forward to having that sort of experience with the Orpheus players. I am quite sure they would share that.
For all that you have already done in your career, is it still exciting for you to be playing in New York at Carnegie Hall?
Absolutely. I haven’t played with an orchestra in Carnegie Hall since I was 15; I have played onstage a few times, and I’ve played in Zankel Hall, but it is still very special. Also, most of my friends are in New York. It is my hometown – not the place where I grew up, but it is home. And to play at home is always harder in a way, because you are playing for people who really know you. But to feel the love and support of people I am close to, there’s something really nice about that.
