PSYchology

Arriving in the summer at the Tchaikovsky Competition completely unknown, this pianist won the fourth prize, the prize of music critics and the ardent love of the Moscow public. We are rereading an old interview on the eve of a new series of concerts by Luc Debargue in Moscow.

Boris Berezovsky called him a genius. Dmitry Bashkirov, who is usually stingy with praise, predicts that in a couple of years Debargue will become one of the greats. For Jean-Marc Lusade, he is «the greatest lesson that music has taught us after many years.» Valery Gergiev, who closely followed Luke’s performance at the competition, invited him to give a joint concert at the Mariinsky Theatre.

We met Lucas Debargue in Paris after the Tchaikovsky Competition. He had just returned to France, having been in Russia the day before. As soon as the interview was over, I hurried to the train to see my teacher Rena Shereshevskaya. I walked him to the subway. On the way, a couple of passers-by recognized him — hugs, congratulations, asking for a photo as a keepsake: it turned out that Russian tourists were on vacation in Paris. Before the meeting, I learned that at least three of the world’s leading music agents had offered him a collaboration. Luca confirmed that he was going to sign a contract with one of them. During the interview, his speech is pouring («Forgive my talkativeness»), he speaks with enthusiasm and passion. Listening to him, you understand where the crazy energy at the competition came from — he is obsessed with music.

Read more:

First of all, how do you feel? After the competition, you were swirled in a cycle of events …

It wasn’t all that crazy. I like it when a little extreme appears in a measured life, otherwise everything freezes. My life has taken on a different intensity, a different scope. In Paris, I studied every morning, gave music lessons in the afternoon, and returned to work at the conservatory in the evening. If I got out of this rhythm, then I softened and nothing happened. In Moscow, I was so worried that I very quickly gave up my habit of playing the piano for seven hours every day. The Moscow atmosphere of colossal energy had a very positive effect on the performance. It was difficult to refrain from music: for a month, while the competition lasted, I played a total of three hours a day. What else do you remember? I am fascinated by my stay in Moscow — the sophistication, goodwill, high education of Russians of my age. I was struck by how well Russian youth (not specialists at all) knows their national poetry, painting, and history.

To listen to you, it was a real pleasure, not a grueling competition.

L. D.: Absolutely. At first I thought about the competitive aspect. We were 60 pianists at the very beginning, not counting other instrumentalists and singers. A total of 200 people — almost like a campus, only the atmosphere is nervous. As the tests continued, there were fewer of us, the tension subsided. And then the media frenzy began — a flood of people falls on you, and everyone asks for an autograph. I was so used to being alone here in France, but here I found myself in the exact opposite extreme situation. But in fact, I am neither cold nor hot from this.

Going back to what happened, how do you explain the unusual connection between you and the audience? There was something in the air. Do you have an explanation or is it from the realm of mysticism?

L. D.: The audience has always received me well, I guess I easily manage to establish contact, I have no other explanations. I can only talk about how I live the situation from the inside. As soon as I finished playing the second concert — probably my best performance in the entire competition — I immediately began to think about everything that I could do and did not do. I was ready to compete again, to immediately return to work. I remember the crowd of people, there were more and more people in the corridors, and it already looked like madness. Then I listened to the concert in the recording, and I was overcome with happiness, although there are a lot of little things, inaccuracies that could be corrected. In any case, there is movement, an impulse from start to finish that wins. Maybe the audience responded to it. For me, the number one goal is to create a sense of continuity. I believe that music has a very strong influence on life. Even when I go shopping, I keep working. I can’t imagine that I’m just relaxing, I always take a folder with notes with me on vacation. On long walks I meditate. This is the life I want to live. Rest for me is something from this list: I can write music for two or three hours, or play jazz, or just listen to pieces and memorize passages. I can change classes, but nothing can make me quit music, it’s impossible.

Read more:

Do you think the competition has enhanced your abilities, which were dormant in you, perhaps latently? Did you show your best game in Moscow?

L. D.: No, no, I played well, but it was not an outstanding performance. I really managed something, but I could have played better, I had much better performances. I can make mistakes in the game, in how I manage my time, in relationships with people, but I am sure of one thing: I never lie in music, in art. I live for art, for art, in art. There is no need for me to say that I am an artist in order to amuse my pride, to stand out from other people. It is very important for me to lead the life of an artist, and in Moscow I felt that the environment feeds me, not only the public. Very positive energy.

They say that in order to believe in your talent, every artist must first of all believe in himself. In your opinion, would you have exploded like a comet in the musical sky anyway, with or without competition, or was it an element of chance?

L. D.: Here I know nothing, these changes I cannot manage. Now I’m on the rise, but things can change very quickly. The public might hate me. My calling is to be myself, that’s my only way to keep my balance. If I allow myself to be carried away by the flow of positivity, I will drown in it. In any case, popularity cannot last forever, it will either come to naught or turn into its opposite. I need to be thick-skinned and strong in order to continue to work seriously, to take up again the works that I left for a while, to learn new concertos. This is where I see my purpose. I can’t afford to drown in internet comments. I have to keep doing what I used to do. It’s just that the competition allowed me to work with great comfort, and I took advantage of it. In addition, he gave me the opportunity to perform in wonderful places. But when it comes to my work behind the instrument, the most important thing in my life as an artist happens inside.

“I can make mistakes in the game, in how I manage my time, in relationships with people, but I am sure of one thing: I never lie in music, in art”

Let’s try to figure out where is the truth and where is the lie in what they say and write about you. For example, are you self-taught or «almost self-taught»?

L. D.: From the age of 11 I began to study music with the piano teacher Madame Meunier, who was more than a music teacher, an amazing person, a person who shared my passion for music. She and I shared a passion for music. I was impatient at that time to play the repertoire of the romantics, to try, in particular, Liszt’s Hungarian rhapsodies. It was the happiest time of my life, between 11 and 15 years old. I was completely immersed in music, for me there was only music, nothing else. I was lucky that at that time I did not have to lead an independent life: I lived with my wonderful parents.

At what age did you start getting an academic education?

At the age of 20, I became a student of Rena Shereshevskaya — now I study with her at the Ecole Normale de Musique in Paris. Before meeting Rena, I met a woman who took a great part in me. At the time, I didn’t really think about the future. She allowed me to perform at one of the music festivals, where I played three things. After listening, she said: «You need to seriously study with the teacher.» Then I had a period of rebellion, and at first I refused. But then he imagined the gloomy future of the half-educated and gave up. I called Philippe Tamborini, professor at the Paris Conservatoire. His verdict after listening: «You can’t play like that.» Over time, we became very close friends.

Read more:

Another legend: you did not touch the piano for three years when you studied literature at the university.

L. D.: Pure truth. I sat down at the piano only to play at a party with friends or when I wanted to improvise, very rarely. I stopped piano lessons completely at the age of 16, my life changed radically. I studied music in a different form, played the double bass.

And worked in a supermarket?

L. D.: Yes, part-time for two years.

Is it true that you learned by ear, in addition to other works, the most difficult Prokofiev’s Third Sonata?

L. D.: Yes. There is nothing ingenious in this, only the ability to concentrate and patience are needed. Balzac memorized entire books from the first reading. In some professions this is easier to do than in others. No one is surprised that an economist keeps world quotes in his head. Rachmaninoff’s third concerto is unrealistic to learn note by note — there are 15 thousand notes. How can you remember so much information? You must have the ability to synthesize, it is important to perceive music with images, with the senses. I taught by ear. The main thing for me is to create an impulse, a “window”, a state that allows you to play without stopping from beginning to end. Continuity of the soul. It’s as if music becomes another genetic program of the body, almost a physically felt part, like an extension of the body. That’s what I’ve been looking for ever since I first sat down at the piano. For me, it’s completely natural. Maybe that’s what makes me special.

What are you going to do now? Will you continue to study with your teacher?

I love life, I love spending time with friends, talking about art with them, I love traveling, I need it all. I can’t spend ten hours in a windowless studio in front of a piano. In the last two years, I used to go weeks without touching an instrument. For some contestants, this is something out of the ordinary, they are outraged by it. But I carry scores with me everywhere, and music always sounds in my head.

Do you think you still have a lot to learn?

L. D.: Lots of work ahead. But we will try, I have a long way to go and I know that Rena is ready to go with me.

Is she more than a teacher to you?

L. D.: Yes. And we don’t just have a teacher-student relationship. She is an artist who is in love with music, giving herself to it with all her heart. There is love between us and we share a lot through music. This allows you to reach unprecedented depth.

Read more:

Do you feel like you have a mission? What is your role, your goal as a pianist?

«Don’t stop the music», I don’t know who said it. Don’t stand in the way of music, don’t betray it. Let the music flow freely, make a cycle. Because music goes round. I don’t believe in purpose. This is a matter of experience, at some point in your development something opens up to you, clears up and you become something like a convector, a transmitter. Then we can talk about the vocation of the artist. I feel a huge responsibility as a performer for all that gigantic repertoire, thousands of masterpieces written for piano, but I think more about music than about its composers. I put music above composers. I have infinite respect for people who dedicated their lives to music, but they will be forgotten. Music is higher than composers, otherwise it could not have passed through the ages. For example, I don’t think we’ve ever had such fresh performances of Mozart. Fifty years ago, only Clara Haskil played in a new way, and it certainly was not the XNUMXth century. Now we have begun to understand ancient music, to immerse ourselves in it, carefully and attentively, like a jewel, studying every note. The opposite situation is with Chopin and Liszt — I think that we have had enough of them. It is necessary to bring something new to the performance of their works, now they sound empty.

You are invited to give concerts a lot, which means you will have to learn a new repertoire. What would you like to do first?

You have to choose very carefully. I had already made up my mind that I wanted to play the sonatas of Scarlatti, one of my three favorite composers. They are rarely heard today. In fact, I would like to do the same as in the second stage of the competition — then I combined a little-known work (Medtner’s sonata) and a very famous one (Gaspard by Ravel). If I play the familiar Scarlatti stuff, it’s because it evokes ideas in me that I would like to share and that I haven’t heard played by others. I dream of recording Beethoven’s first seven sonatas, but not the last heavy ones. Of course, what pianist would refuse to dive into the Grand Hammerklavier Sonata? I am very attracted to Schubert. I listened to his last sonata D 960 in B bimol performed by Sofronitsky. Behind him is the future. Nobody plays as well as he does. And I want to resume work where Sofronitsky left off. I hope my words don’t sound pretentious. I’ll just try to play the D960 in Bbimol.

No, no, the one who sets such high goals for himself is worthy of admiration!.. Returning to the competition: I was struck by how long you prepare before you start playing. Is this your way of entering a special state? To achieve the perfect sound first in the mind, as was the case in «Ondine» from Ravel’s «Night Gaspard»?

L. D.: Silence is necessary for a musician in the same way as an artist needs a canvas, and a sculpture needs raw clay. Silence is something abstract, but it is very important to pay due attention to it. What is sound? Piano — coffin, mechanics. I have never made a fetish of the instrument, it has never bothered me. Some say with delight: “I have a piano in my living room!” I prefer not to have the piano in the living room. Music is born when you put life into this big machine. I watched the other contestants play without missing a note, with the right tempo, subtle nuances, it was perfect, but the sound came out lifeless. We heard the sounds of the piano, but we did not hear the music. Real sound can only be achieved by putting meaning, the truth of life into sounds.

The nearest concerts of Luc Debargue in Moscow will take place on September 18, 2015 in the Great Hall of the Conservatory, December 21 and 22, 2015 at the House of Music.

Read the full original interview at Online Let’s talk piano.

Leave a Reply