It felt like a challenge when I was asked to write a few lines about myself.
Although, during the course of my preparation, I read a great many websites and the CVs they contained, I was somehow always repelled by that kind of self-management—by the pathetic wording, by the non plus ultra phrases, by the reviews and the press responses.
At the same time, I was forced to recognise that nowadays marketing has become an integral part of the arts—that is, advertisements and self-profiling are unavoidable.
I thought a lot about what I should write in order to introduce myself, how people could get a closer view of me as an artist, and my conclusion was that I would write a different kind of introduction. I would not serve up any precise biographical data here—that is what my CV is for.
I was born into a family of musicians, and in my childhood I imbibed a love of music alongside my mother’s milk, and indeed alongside any other delicacy—at least, that is what they tell me. Frankly, it was only much later that I came to understand what true love of music, respect, dedication, determination, and humility really are.
My big-hearted, Kossuth Prize-winning grandfather—dubbed “Uncle Viola” by his students—was a driven, obsessive benefactor, soloist, and teacher. He was my idol when I was young, and I grew up on his recordings and videos, although sadly I never knew him personally.
I do not have very many memories of my childhood—only that I started playing the violin at the age of three, and then, following the family tradition, at fourteen I also began to play the viola.
However, my love for the instrument and my respect for the profession really began to mature in my twenties, and especially in my thirties. Until that point, perhaps it was only a vocation we could speak about.
I was not an easy student. Even during my university years, I often found myself searching for a new master, a mentor—always with renewal, development, and humanity in mind.
Although I am grateful to everyone—especially now, looking back—I would like to highlight a few of my teachers in chronological order: Volker Sprenger, to whom I owe my basic technical and instrumental knowledge; then Felix Schwartz. Among the great masters of the past, I owe a deep debt of gratitude to Siegfried Führlinger, who honed and deepened my understanding, helped me find my footing again, and also helped me discover the “Lukács sound,” while guiding me to become a clearer and better person.
Nowadays there is growing aggression in the world, and it is becoming more and more difficult to understand ourselves and each other. Music should be there to open up our feelings, to connect, and to help us grow as human beings. That is what I would like to share with my dear audience, first and foremost.
It felt like a challenge when I was asked to write a few lines about myself.
Although, during the course of my preparation, I read a great many websites and the CVs they contained, I was somehow always repelled by that kind of self-management—by the pathetic wording, by the non plus ultra phrases, by the reviews and the press responses.
At the same time, I was forced to recognise that nowadays marketing has become an integral part of the arts—that is, advertisements and self-profiling are unavoidable.
I thought a lot about what I should write in order to introduce myself, how people could get a closer view of me as an artist, and my conclusion was that I would write a different kind of introduction. I would not serve up any precise biographical data here—that is what my CV is for.
I was born into a family of musicians, and in my childhood I imbibed a love of music alongside my mother’s milk, and indeed alongside any other delicacy—at least, that is what they tell me. Frankly, it was only much later that I came to understand what true love of music, respect, dedication, determination, and humility really are.
My big-hearted, Kossuth Prize-winning grandfather—dubbed “Uncle Viola” by his students—was a driven, obsessive benefactor, soloist, and teacher. He was my idol when I was young, and I grew up on his recordings and videos, although sadly I never knew him personally.
I do not have very many memories of my childhood—only that I started playing the violin at the age of three, and then, following the family tradition, at fourteen I also began to play the viola.
However, my love for the instrument and my respect for the profession really began to mature in my twenties, and especially in my thirties. Until that point, perhaps it was only a vocation we could speak about.
I was not an easy student. Even during my university years, I often found myself searching for a new master, a mentor—always with renewal, development, and humanity in mind.
Although I am grateful to everyone—especially now, looking back—I would like to highlight a few of my teachers in chronological order: Volker Sprenger, to whom I owe my basic technical and instrumental knowledge; then Felix Schwartz. Among the great masters of the past, I owe a deep debt of gratitude to Siegfried Führlinger, who honed and deepened my understanding, helped me find my footing again, and also helped me discover the “Lukács sound,” while guiding me to become a clearer and better person.
Nowadays there is growing aggression in the world, and it is becoming more and more difficult to understand ourselves and each other. Music should be there to open up our feelings, to connect, and to help us grow as human beings. That is what I would like to share with my dear audience, first and foremost.