Meet the musician: Patricia Kopatchinskaja
To describe violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja as ‘distinct’ feels like something of an understatement
Born in Chisinau, now the capital of Moldova, Kopatchinskaja comes from a musical family; her mother was a concert violinist, her father a cimbalom player.
But whilst music may be in her genes, her style and approach to its performance is very much of her own making. Throughout her career she has encouraged experimentation, and diversion from the traditional canon of classical music. Kopatchinskaja has been described as ‘a player of rare expressive energy and disarming informality, of whimsy and theatrical ambition,’ by The New York Times. And that theatrical ambition certainly came to the fore during Kopatchinskaja’s time as a Resident Artist here at the Southbank Centre.
In December 2023 she gave a performance of Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire whilst dressed as Pierrot the clown, and in February 2024 she returned to our Queen Elizabeth Hall with a theatrical staging of Ustvolskaya’s merciless Dies Irae. Ahead of that return we caught up with the violinist to find out a little more about her musical upbringing, her influences, and who she’d loved to perform with. And in doing so we got a real flavour of who Kopatchinskaja is.
Did you always want to be a musician?
Yes. There was a brief moment when I wanted to be a nun, but that wouldn’t bother each other.
What’s your earliest musical memory?
The voice of my grandmother accompanied by the mechanical tinkling of her old Singer sewing machine.
Who are the other artists that influence you and your approach to music?
The birds, burning of fire, drilling asphalt sounds – actually any sound I’ve heard has influenced me. Also, the pictures can be very inspiring; having seen Turner I totally changed my approach to Beethoven. ‘The artists’ existed more in my fantasy – I imagined Bach walking from one city to the other, his breath and pulse, or the ecstasy of the audience while listening to Liszt or Paganini.
How does it feel to perform in a concert?
Sometimes a torture, sometimes paradise. Always the highest of the possible. A fusion and extreme focusing of all thoughts and sensations, an over-pointed state of spirit. A constant search, sometimes a portal where everything opens up. But also a struggle with oneself when nothing works, fighting the fear. You hope to take the audience on that adventure with you. That’s the best thing.
‘The birds, the burning of fire, drilling asphalt sounds – any sound I’ve heard has influenced me’
What’s your favourite piece of music to play?
The piece that seems to need me.
And what is your favourite to listen to?
I am looking for silence.
Which is your favourite venue at which you’ve performed?
I don’t have any favourite venues. If I’m allowed to play and it says something to the audience, then that’s enough for me.
What does being a Resident Artist at the Southbank Centre mean to you?
That I can tell my stories in a wonderful place and hope that people will be interested. It’s a great privilege and joy to be with you all.
What, if anything, would you change about classical concerts?
No breaks, more risks.
Who, if anyone, do you turn to for feedback on your performances? And do you pay much attention to reviews?
I listen to everything that is said to me and think about it. I play for people, not just for myself.
And lastly, if you could collaborate with any performer, composer, conductor or orchestra who would it be?
With Teodor Currentzis. Because he tells stories.