When I spent my first summer at Marlboro in 1997, I was a gangly 16-year-old; last summer, my 13th at Marlboro, was also my first as Co-Artistic Director. That means that I have frequently been the youngest person in my groups, and by now, just as frequently, the oldest. I have worked on repertoire that was new to me, as well as pieces I’d played for decades. I have studied canonical works of chamber music, and pieces that were written in the last 10 years. I have had groups that functioned smoothly, and ones that were challenged by language barriers and competing approaches.
Ultimately, though, none of this matters: each chamber music group at Marlboro, whatever its particulars, has been an opportunity for me to throw myself into the study of a piece of music, with love, devotion, and a sense of shared purpose. Nothing else in my life gives me such a sense of joy in the exploration of music, and nothing else gives me such a strong sense of community. And nothing comes close to making me feel how connected those two things can be to one another. The modern world, for all its advantages, often conspires to divide musicians’ attention in a million directions, and to distract us from our central task of inhabiting the music we play. Marlboro brings me straight back to that place, summer after summer, and for that I’m infinitely grateful.
