Off to the Races with Claus
Life in the Fast Lane of a Mover & Shaker
There is an inside and an outside to everything. And depending on what dimension we are talking about, there are many sides to most things, whether we are dealing in physical objects or abstract ideas. And then there are the concepts of perception and how everything works and relates to everything else, plus all that self-referential information that has meaning to oneself, in ones own language. It is part of the mental maze of thoughts and observations we go through when taking in the stimulating sensations and experiences of art and the everyday, one always reflecting back across to the other (as in: life imitates art imitates life, etc.).
Expression and perception are one pair of abstractions that together create an impression going both ways: from the one who expresses to the one who perceives, and then back again with the perceived impression flowing back to the one who expresses. It’s a kind of invisible dialogue of energies swirling around while art is happening, an imaginary ping pong volley. You can feel it when you are in the room with a performance. There is a kind of electricity in the air. It’s the experience itself, and that is what makes it all matter, makes it all relevant. It’s what makes all the difference with live music. Live anything.
We have this effect on each other. It’s the ‘magical’ factor. That thing that gets projected out regardless on which side of the stage you are on. And we are not talking about distractions, such as the rules for audiences to be invisible as possible in chess or golf tournaments. Even silent audiences give off a vibe. It’s not uncommon for performers to locate someone in the audience and perform as if to them, as a kind of focal point. Many performers of classical music speak of playing for the composer (dead or alive), or to speak for the composer, in their voice. But the magic part, regardless of voice, superficial mental games, or supernatural channeling of the dead, is all about this invisible interplay, this back and forth that occurs that is unseen, unheard, and unmistakably present.
It can sometimes help to have a translator for all of this, someone to walk us through the experience. We are often wanting to feel some conscious connection with the person on stage, and it doesn’t break the spell if they speak, it just makes us have another layer of perception, some kind of acknowledgement that we are in fact all there together doing this thing of being there, doing our part as the audience, our purpose on some level.
I’d like to think that the whole process can venture into the unconventional and be a little different every time, a kind of variation leading to something unexpected. Just to spice things up. Why not? Would you be more likely to attend an event that had an element of the unpredictable? That’s probably the top complaint I’ve heard about classical music concerts, that they are too much like going to a museum. And if something creative is happening, it’s not such a bad thing. Maybe we want to have a little diversity even with a program playing some old favorite work—for that we need innovation and new ways of thinking. It doesn’t change the fact that we are all there to go through some sort of experience together and in our own personal way at the same time.
It’s good to have that person who wants to make the bridge. We need some brave soul who wants to reach out and meet us half way, extend a hand into the void to let us know we are not so invisible in the process. And we have such a person, miraculously, here with us now…
Kathy Geisler: What is your current job in the field of classical music? What are you currently working on?
Marie François: I’m working as a solo pianist. I play mostly solo recitals for a living. I try to see myself as an ambassador of classical music. I know my strengths as a human being and I think I not only play the piano well, but also articulate very clearly what the essence of music is by expressing my love for the style in particular. I bring all of this together when I talk to my audience during concerts.
I present my own repertoire on stage (in a playful, artistic way — not a lecture), and share a story or anecdote of the composition, composer, or myself as an artist so that everyone in the hall gets an idea or vibe of what the music is about. In that way I want to attract new audiences.
Kathy: What were some of your early lessons or experiences in classical music?
Marie: When I was nine years old my grandparents used to take me to see classical concerts. There was one evening when we went to listen to Shostakovich Symphony №11. My grandfather would always explain me what the music was about or sketch an idea of the time that it was written in. It was very big Russian symphonic orchestra and I remember feeling incredibly overwhelmed (in a good way), when I heard all the many soundscapes. At the end of the hour long symphony, I looked over to my grandfather and saw him listening to the music with tears in his eyes. I remember that moment very vividly because it was at that exact moment that I decided this is what I want to do in life: move people with my music, make them feel all these different emotions, and to leave an impression — just like the incredible music and musicians did with my grandfather that evening.
During my studies, I have had incredible teachers that have told me that making music is the most important thing, and not to lose myself in the act of playing, the technical part, but to always think in a musical way — to share a story.
When I was young I studied very hard to become limitless behind the keyboard in a technical way, so that I could use these skills to express myself in every possible way.
Kathy: What is one of your favorite places and why?
Marie: Interesting question, but difficult to answer. For me personally, it’s not really the place but the people surrounding me that give color to my environment. But if I have to name something it would of course be behind my own instrument, with my dog snoring next to me. Also the house of my uncle and aunt in Berlin. They are incredible people and the vibe in the house is just something very special. Oh and they also have a wonderful old Blüthner there.
I’m a person of extremes: I love to walk around in any capital city at night to look at people and discover new things, but I also love to take long walks in the forest with my dog or with friends.
Kathy: What is one of your favorite pieces and do you have a favorite performer or experience of it?
Marie: My favorite compositions change all the time! Depends on my mood and what I’m working on. At the moment I’m studying the Liszt Sonata, Tchaikovsky Concerto, Mozart Sonata in F Major, and all of the Nocturnes by Chopin.
My favorite recording of the Nocturnes is by Nelson Freire, the Liszt Sonata, Krystian Zimmerman, Martha Argerich and Jan Wijn (Dutch pedagogue, AMAZING recording!). I heard Eliso Virsaladze (my last teacher in Fiesole) playing the Tchaikovsky Concerto in Belgium two years ago and I was blown away when I heard that performance — I had not heard anything like that before. And for Mozart I really like Emanuel Ax — and this is only a glimpse of the piano repertoire. I have to admit I’m a freak when it comes to listening to recordings, I can listen for hours and hours (when I’m not practicing myself :-))
I’m a huge fan of other instruments as well, so I actually listen even more to other instrumentalists than pianists. I love the orchestral repertoire. I train my ears on all the different sound colors so that I can imitate that in my piano playing — to make the music sound symphonic when it needs to.
Side note: I have to admit one of my all time favorite pianists is Martha Argerich, so I love almost all of her solo recordings.
Kathy: Is there an artist no longer living who somehow made an impression on you?
Marie: Cortot. Schnabel. Rubinstein. Richter. Horowitz. Emil Gilels. Ivry Gitlis. Heifetz. Bernstein. Karajan. Celibidache. Ciccolini…
If I had to choose, I would say Rubinstein. He played the piano with such joy, such natural phrasing and a pure elegance. The second one should be Horowitz. He had such a richness in his playing, such great imagination. He could sing equally with his right and left hand. When I try to explain why they were such special pianists I dishonor them because that’s why music exists, to express things that are not possible with words, and that’s exactly what they did in such a unique and special way.
Kathy: What is one thing you think will be different about classical music 100 years from now?
Marie: I just hope that there will still be many live performances and not only virtual ones…
I know it is a thing people like to do, predict the future. But I honestly don’t know what will be different about classical music in 100 years. The only thing I can hope for is that it will develop in a positive way, that we will have many more young people in the audience, and that there will still be many live performances and not only digital ones—that humans will still play the instruments and not robots or whatever automations are coming. I hope we will use the new technologies — that are inevitably going to be invented — to support the music and the way of performing in a clever and interesting way.
Kathy: What is something about your work that you think most people have no idea about?
Marie: I think people might not realize how hard musicians work and practice to play those one hour concerts on the highest level. They only see the result of hours and hours of work. So I wouldn’t mind sharing more of that process through social media (Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, the Podcast I made, Musing with Marie, and hopefully more in the future (such as my own radio program about classical music…).
Kathy: Did you have any life-changing experiences that put you on the path that led you to be doing what you’re doing today?
Marie: I just want to add that I come from a doctor / pharmacy family, so I never had help from them to build my career (besides my parents supporting me financially — for my studies and master classes etc., and emotionally of course). I did, and still do everything myself. I started studying piano when I was four years old but my father never wanted me to proceed with my life as a classical musician. He wanted me to take over his pharmacy. In high school I wanted to go to a special school that would prepare me for a career in music and enable me to enter a conservatory, but I had to study mathematics, which I did until finally, when I turned 16, I convinced my parents to give me a chance to show them that I’m capable of doing something special with music. So I know what I want, I am a very hard worker and I don’t give up until I achieve my goal. I am very ambitious and have a vision for myself.
My parents always taught me to believe in myself and to fight for what I want, so that’s what I did and still do everyday. :-)
Kathy: Is there anything else you would like to say about yourself, your work, or classical music?
Marie: I have travelled a lot with my parents and brother. I appreciate different cultures, good food, and art; I am in love with dogs. I have a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel called Claus and he sleeps next to me whenever I practice piano; I love fashion. It is important to think of the complete picture when you walk out on stage. Not only to play well, but also to present yourself in a visual way. I work together with Belgian designers who want to bring a stage image-presence to life with their fashion. Just because we play classical music, doesn’t mean we have to be part of the traditions of the past. We can show our artistry on stage and express ourselves in different ways to bring a new energy to the concert hall experience.
