• 23/09/2022
• By wizewebsite
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Magdalena Kožená: I was a strange little girl - Novinky.cz<

Magdalena Kožená: I was a strange little girl

Coexistence with musicians tends to be busy. Did the neighbors tolerate your productions?

When I was little, they even praised me for how well I played. However, I have the experience that I can get on someone's nerves. As an adult, my neighbor from Brno even rang our bell several times with an ax and threatened to kill me if I didn't stop singing...

My garden gazebo, the music house, as we call it at home, is a luxury I couldn't live without. I have complete peace of mind to work there, and those who don't like singing don't have to listen to me.

The gazebo stands near the house you live in. Jonáš, Miloš and Anežka grow up there. Did you and your husband, the British conductor Simon Rattle, immediately decide what their name would be?

At first we agreed that everyone would have his last name. In fairness, I wished that they had Czech first names. Jonás kind of came out. Miloš is named after my father, who died when I was little. He always wanted a son and had “only” two daughters…

And Agnes? I liked other names too. But they beat me at home. The sons came up with the idea that the sister must also have š in her name. They had no idea that Anežka was spelled ž.

And what name suited your daughter better then?

I wanted Luisa. But the husband was against it, because in English this name sounds terribly old-fashioned. In addition, I have to admit that in the end, Anežka really suits my daughter the best.

You live with an English man. In Germany. Children go to British schools. How difficult was it to keep your mother tongue in the family in such an international constellation?

I mainly had to be consistent. Still speaking to them in Czech. Even at dinner, when it would certainly be easiest to speak English the whole time, so that even a man who has not learned much Czech would understand. So I had to say everything at the table twice. But it was worth the work.

In addition, the children were often looked after by my mother or a Czech nanny, which was also essential for the knowledge of the Czech language. I mean, I don't really like the word nanny, I'm no princess.

So what do you call her?

By name. I don't hire maids to take time off, to take care of myself. They are part of the family so we can work with the man. Here we have two, a Czech and a Polish woman. Thanks to them, Anežka speaks Czech and Polish, plus English and German. I envy her how easily she came to it.

Your home also includes the animals you love. How many do you currently have?

We used to have three turtles, but unfortunately one didn't survive the winter in the fridge this year. We still have a seventy-kilogram dog, a Swiss Mountain Dog. I didn't want that, because I knew that taking care of him was very problematic in our nomadic life. But three years ago mom died and I promised her that I would take care of her darling.

This is quite a large breed for a pet.

He really looks like a little pony. It won't even fit in the car, or rather it would fit if I didn't bring anything or anyone. Which usually doesn't happen. That's why he mostly stays at home, in Berlin, where we go for walks together. I had enough time for them during the pandemic.

But not all your work has been lost. In your gazebo, you recorded, for example, the Mexican La Paloma and Janáček's Obrázek milého. It was an online project of Arte Concert TV.

It was more of an improvisation invented for the online world in which we have all lived for a long time. Each of the respondents was supposed to sing songs at home in such a way that they reflect his genre, which feeds him.

I joined them then as a classical music singer. My Indian colleague took them up on the folklore side. After that, the crew came to each of us and recorded everything.

How many times did you try the project before they could come to you?

I didn't count it for hours... However, I had time, a similar experiment attracted me. Each nation approaches those compositions differently. According to their traditions.

For example, La Paloma is somewhere a funeral song, somewhere else a wedding song. It evokes different emotions in the listeners. Which is also the goal of the mentioned project. To show the diversity of Berlin, the musicians who settled there.

Would you be able to edit a similar recording yourself?

Absolutely not! This is done on computers and I'm totally non-technical.

A brief business card of the artist is part of the project. In it you say that your mother thought you were a special child because you sang before you spoke. Do you know what you've been writing down since childhood?

Melody, musical fragments, what I heard on the radio, on TV. Mom understood, she liked to sing to herself, for example while washing the dishes. She loved folk songs, thanks to her I learned them.

So you have musical talent after her?

Probably not, she didn't really have an ear for music, I even sometimes scolded her for singing fakely. But she had the right passion, plus she knew an awful lot of people. She also grew up in them, because my grandfather and grandmother still sang. When we stayed with them on holidays, we often recorded together two and three voices. It was our hobby, fun.

You love folk songs. What about pop, rock, big beat…? You seem to have completely missed these genres.

Most of the music mainstream missed me. That's not to say I don't notice him. Thanks to my sons, for example, I met rap. When you listen to a quality production, you sometimes hear interesting harmonies and musical ideas under the spoken word. But if I turn on the mainstream radio in the car, I'll admit that it gets on my nerves.

Then why do you let it go?

Involuntarily. I drive my daughter who loves the Radio Energy commercial every weekday morning when schools are open. Thanks to him, I listen to current hits really often. Mostly English, here and there Spanish, exceptionally German, but unfortunately still the ten, round and round. I will endure everything for Anežka. I know I'll turn off the radio as soon as he gets off.

You grew up in socialist Czechoslovakia. Don't say that you missed Karel Gott, Michal David, Hana Zagorová, Helena Vondráčková...

When I was younger, I listened to all of them. I even liked some things. But as I said, I was a "strange little girl" singing in the Cantilena choir from an early age. That's why opera won for me from the first grade.

As soon as I was given the opportunity to choose, I reached for names proven for centuries. Instead of Karel Gott, I played Claude Debussy...

You seriously didn't give any Czech band a chance, even when you were a teenager?

I really enjoyed the group Nerez. From the world of legends like the Beatles, Jethro Tull or Deep Purple...

Let's go back to the car, you spend long hours in it. What do you voluntarily listen to in it?

How ever. Sometimes I'm in the mood for complete silence, other times I'll turn on cultural radio broadcasting the best jazz interspersed with spoken word. If I drive Berlin-Prague, which is three and a half hours, I can do both.

Your passion for music started quite early. You originally wanted to be a pianist. Which you broke your hands just before the conservatory. In what sport did this happen?

To be more specific, I broke one arm above the wrist, bumped the other. Just before the admissions to the conservatory, I had a cast on one and bandages on the other...

It happened in gym class. The young teacher made us run in groups, behind on the concrete. I was the last one in the team. And as everyone cheered for me, I slurped unhappily. When I fell backwards, I put my hands under me, which immediately made it impossible for me to do talent tests for piano class.

When did you first dream of a career as a pianist?

I fell in love with this instrument at the age of three, I only started learning to play at the age of eight. I was no prodigy. I just enjoyed it. On the contrary, I never even thought that I would sing professionally one day. But after I lost the piano, I tried singing. To my surprise, they took me to the conservatory right away.

The choir led you to the opera. Piano for elementary art school. Did you also enjoy science?

It was fun, I already told you that I was a strange little girl. Thanks to the choir, I knew sheet music even before I joined the choir. And then I practiced the piano all the time. At home, it was common to say: Stop it, come eat.

An ancient love is also reflected in the ZUŠ Open project. Why do you support humans?

Because we have a completely unique system that is not sufficiently appreciated by society. It is also one of the reasons why I founded the foundation fund, started the ZUŠ Open project. I want to draw attention to the Czech zušky. They are really unique, even if we don't notice it. They are not "only" interested in raising virtuosos, it is more important that they are accessible to most children. Which, as a result, significantly reflects on the entire culture of our nation.

Opening the door to the world of art for children is undoubtedly necessary, and yet it is a question that has been neglected for a long time.

How is Germany doing?

There are only a few music schools comparable to human ones, so if someone wants to learn to play an instrument or sing, they have to pay for private lessons. On the contrary, in the Czech Republic we have an elementary art school in every small town, where children can learn music, dance, art or drama, which is an extraordinary advantage.

And isn't it actually nice that we take it for granted?

It is, but someone has to pay for it: the state, the regions, the Ministry of Education... ZUŠ Open tries to ensure that artistic education is not forgotten. So that the money goes to the arts in addition to youth sports, which are subsidized normally. In my opinion, it is absolutely necessary for education and healthy development.

Last year he pointed this out even more clearly. Although there was online teaching, you cannot replace human contact, the bond with the teacher. That is also why some of the newcomers gave up their efforts. How do you want to explain through the camera, through the computer, where the child should put his fingers, how he should turn his wrist, position his hand? The basic emotions associated with music also disappear: the shared beauty when it finally hits.

Wasn't this a problem for older students during the pandemic?

If you have the basics of technology and a long-term relationship with a teacher, you can survive a few virtual months. The teacher is usually able to help "at a distance", but it doesn't make sense in the long term. Therefore, we all mainly believe that in September we will start teaching live in Liduška.

You spent your childhood in yours. Do you sometimes play the piano?

In private, yes. If I study a musical role, I sometimes accompany myself. But that I would play something more complicated just like that? Anyone who has played the piano knows that it takes a lot of practice. Otherwise the fingers will stop listening. During the pandemic, I sat down to Beethoven sonatas like this a few times, but I soon stopped. I don't have the technique to play them to my liking.

I know that you and your husband watch over the children to take up music. how are you doing

Supervising is perhaps not the right word... My husband and I do not force music on our children, but we would like them to develop a relationship with it. The eldest son plays the double bass, the younger the cello, and the daughter started the piano this year. If they become professional musicians? I won't tell you that.

Honestly, I don't know if I would want to. It's a beautiful profession, but if you don't get to the very top, it's not easy to make a living.

You are on it. Is your diary counting on pre-coronavirus life returning from September?

The summer cultural event is still going according to plan... And my diary? It is filled a few years in advance like before. The next season is especially busy, in which the planned events and the postponed ones have come together. On paper, after a year and a half of minimal travel, it's scary. (laughter)

But I remain a realist. All kinds of restrictions apply, and those who invent them usually don't understand our world or don't think it's important enough. When a person goes on tour and goes from one country to another every other day, he can't be in quarantine every time.

Athletes have similar exceptions, don't they?

They do, that's why they play and compete normally after testing. No one looks back at the musicians yet. It's so strange. No one complains about 80,000 fans crammed next to each other without masks at a football match, but vaccinated and daily tested musicians had to play concerts two meters apart wearing masks. At least we know where we stand in society. Maybe my diary will get dirty a lot.

When we talk about performances, concerts. Did you try wearing a mask during the pandemic?

Thankfully not. I can't sing in a mask, and above all I think that breathing exhaled air, especially during physical exertion, such as opera singing, is extremely unhealthy.

But many of my colleagues in masks had to sing, at least during rehearsals. In addition, I was lucky enough that - although most of the work fell away - something remained. I even left home about twice a month. For example to Italy. Of course, under strict measures: I had eight tests in a week, they handed us the sheet music in gloves.

Or, for example, last July I stayed in Aix-en-Provence, France, where we rehearsed, without orchestra or choir, the opera Nevinnost by the Finnish composer Kaiji Saaria. This year, after a year, we finally presented it to the audience.

You play a waitress in it, the role is written for your body, for your voice. How often does this happen?

Recently more and more often. I'm glad for that. Opera singers mostly sing compositions by dead authors. We can't ask them how they meant this or that, or adjust the vocal part in places that don't quite fit.

On the other hand, you can have a dialogue with living composers, they know your voice, and therefore usually write custom roles for performers. Which of course shows in the result.

So did Mrs. Saariaho know you personally before writing the role for you?

Yes, my husband conducted some of her compositions. So we had the opportunity to talk. Then she came to a couple of my concerts in Paris. Before Nevinnost handed it in, we consulted something.

I know that you used to have children go to work with you. Is that over with their schooling?

Boys are big. But sometimes I still ask for Anežka. He goes to the first grade, a Waldorf school, where similar "trips" are even encouraged. In general, they emphasize a functioning family there, which includes the opportunity to be together. Unfortunately, we didn't ride much last year.

Doesn't the fact that she is waiting for you somewhere and you are thinking about her bother you on tour?

I once had to choose: either I will have absolute peace at work, but I will not see the children grow up, or I will sacrifice a piece of well-being and be with them. They all traveled with me soon after birth. I wanted to be sure that if anything happened to them, I would be there, I would be able to intervene. Their childhood is too short, they will soon fly out of my nest...

This is not to say that it is not sometimes nerve-wracking. I was singing and wondering if I could feed them during the twenty-minute break so they wouldn't scream for another forty-five... Yes, maybe I would have performed better without them on stage. And maybe not. As I know myself, I would still think about how they are without me.

You are based in Berlin. Your husband has accepted a job in Munich. Are you planning to move?

No, Berlin is our home. The work of the chief conductor also brings with it the fact that he does not have to be at the place where he is employed for the whole year. He also conducts other orchestras and spends a lot of time on tour as well. Therefore, moving does not make much sense.

When will Czech viewers see you in the Czech Republic?

Next year. In May with Cole Porter and Ondřej Havelka's Melody Makers and in June at the Concentus Moraviae festival in a chamber project with Simon and several other amazing colleagues.