Wer in die Meisterklasse von Ivan Monighetti aufgenommen wird, braucht zumindest ein Höchstmass an Talent. Was wir jedoch beim Abschlusskonzert in der Musikschule in Eschen erlebten, geht schon deutlich über die eigentliche Definition von Talent hinaus. Hier spielten sechs Cellisten und Cellistinnen, die in ihrem jeweiligen Alter schon über ein beeindruckendes Mass von Musikalität verfügen. Das geht von der Jüngsten, Kanon Huang (10 Jahre), bis zum Ältesten, Petar Pejcic (21 Jahre).

Kanon Huang eröffnete das Program mit einer sehr spielerischen Interpretation von David Poppers Tarantella op.33/1. Geradezu intuitiv erfasste die taiwanesisch-japanische Cellistin den tänzerischen, quirlig-leichten Charakter dieser Komposition.

Gabriel Fauré hatte eine Vorliebe für das Cello und komponierte 1880 seine Elegie c-Moll, die Jana Bojanowski mit sehr schönem, kantablem Bogenstrich interpretierte. Obwohl eine Elegie eigentlich ein Klagelied ist, liess Jana Bojanowski immer wieder heitere, hoffnungsvolle Stimmungen aufleuchten, was ihrem Spiel zusätzlichen Farbenreichtum verlieh, den sie mustergültig in den anschliessenden Paganini-Variationen über „Moses in Ägypten“ zur Geltung brachte.

Ein strahlendes Lächeln zum Ende ihres Vortrages unterstrich überdies ihre kommunikatives Talent. 

Dies gilt auch für Anna Izabela Komusinski, die zudem in David Popper Konzertpolonaise op. 14 mit viel gestalterischem Gespür überzeugte. Kluge Rubati und Tempoverschiebungen machten aus diesem Werk nicht nur einen blossen Tanz sondern beleuchteten gleichermassen intensiv die heiteren wie die melancholischen Facetten dieses Werk. Dass die junge polnische Cellistin auch Virtuosität kann, zeigte sie spielerisch leicht in Nikolai Rimski-Korsakows Hummelflug.

Russisch ging es weiter im Programm mit zwei Sätzen aus der gewaltigen Cellosonate d-Moll von Dmitri Schostakowitsch. Luis Aracama investierte sich mit ganzer Seele, mit viel Leidenschaft in dieses Werk, schaffte im ersten Satz eine ungemeine innere Spannung, laute, stille Schreie, die im anschliessenden Allegro geradezu brachial ausbrachen. In dieses knisternde Spannungsfeld zwischen expressiver Introspektion und explosiver Extrovertiertheit zog er auch die Zuhörer hinein - eine äusserst intensive Art der Kommunikation.

Mit feinem improvisatorischen Gestus wartete Maria Salvatori auf. Allein auf dem Konzertpodium mit sich und ihrem Cello, liess sie mit den vielfältigen Spielarten des Instrumentes „Intermezzo e Danza finale“ aus Gaspar Cassados Cellosuite Gestalt annehmen, formte aus den einzelnen Episoden mit verblüffender Selbstverständlichkeit ein stimmungsreiches Tableau. Zum gestalterischen Können gesellte sich in Svante Henrysons jazzigem „Black run“ auch noch eine unbändige Spielfreude.

Mit Tschaikowskys Rokoko-Variationen beschloss Petar Pejcic das Programm.  Auch er überzeugte mit viel gestalterischem Können, das gerade den klassisch verspielten, ornamentalen Charakter des Werkes bestens zur Geltung brachte, dies in feinstem Dialog mit Ofelia Montalvan am Klavier, die sämtlichen Musikern eine exzellente, zuverlässige und vor allem zuhörende Partnerin war.  

                                                                                                            Guy Engels

Whether we like it or not, we come to every classical music concert with prejudices and preconceived expectations. Even if we know nothing about the musicians we are about to listen to and encounter them for the first time, our brain receives and processes a series of information before we hear a single note. As we watch the artists come on stage, their appearance, gender, age, the way they walk and take their place on the stage, tuning the instruments - all of this forms impressions and different shades of our mood towards the music.

Because of all this, before consuming the recording of the concert by the scholarship recipients of the Liechtenstein Foundation "Music and Youth" and the students of Professor Ivan Monighetti's class, I decided to conduct an experiment with myself and my own reception of music. I started the recording without looking at the image or reading anything about the performers.

In what way do musicians, especially when reproducing well-known compositions by classical composers, capture our attention, evoke emotions, and shape the experience within us? In the same way that actors breathe life into long-written dramatic roles, telling us a story as if it were their own.

The concert program strategy was common and expected: from shorter and simpler compositions, such as Popper's Tarantella No. 1 or Fauré's Elegy in C minor, to more complex, longer, and most demanding ones, like Shostakovich's Cello Sonata in D minor and Tchaikovsky's Rococo Variations. Accordingly, I listened to a series of convincing musical storytellers who, as the stories became more complex and longer, captured more and more of my attention and elicited admiration.

When I combined the "blindly" listened concert with the visuals, names, and biographies of the musicians, the assumption, also expected, that the performers were arranged on the program according to their age, from the youngest to the oldest, proved to be correct. However, I was shocked when I saw the first musician on stage. Judging by the very rare intonational uncertainties in the charming and effective Tarantella by David Popper, I assumed that the cello was in young and perhaps not yet so strong hands. But, I was absolutely amazed to realize that it was actually a child, a girl who was only ten years old. The Liechtenstein Music Academy and ten editions of the Next Generation festival that I had the privilege to enjoy have already accustomed us to the discoveries of diamond talents. However, even among them, a "Wunderkind" like Kanon Huang stands out with a brilliant and unique shine, especially since she doesn't assert herself with infallible and acrobatic virtuosity, but conquers with personality and childlike playfulness in music. It seems that serious and hard work so far has not harmed this quality, desirable for every musician. May it remain so.

A series of beautiful musical stories continued with Jana Bojanowski (b. 2010) in the lyrical Elegy of Fauré and then in the fireworks of Paganini's Variations on the theme from the opera "Moses in Egypt." Anna Izabela Komusinski (b. 2008) also gave an excellent demonstration of musicality and technical virtuosity in Popper's Concert Polonaise, op. 14 and the always-risky Flight of the Bumblebee.

Eighteen-year-old Luis Aracama particularly impressed me with the most delicate intimate details of Shostakovich's Sonata, and we are well aware of how complex the stories of this composer, with a very complicated character and life, can be. Deservedly taking position as the highlight of the evening was the performance of Petar Pejcic (b. 2002) in the Rococo Variations. Compelling, immersed, passionate, sincere, and profound in every note, Pejcic is a musician who, with great and justified ambitions, knocks on the doors of major international stages.

All of these young musicians, as well as us listeners, had the pleasure of enjoying collaboration with pianist Ofelia Montalván.

In addition to providing inspiration and guidance to young musicians, I assume that Prof. Monighetti, or one of the organizers, should also be thanked for the excellently curated program. It included a dramatic intermezzo, a kind of finale before the final, between Aracama's Shostakovich and Pejcic's Tchaikovsky. Maria Salvatori (b. 2004) received and brilliantly seized the opportunity to present herself in full freedom and beauty through compositions for solo cello. She played the Intermezzo e Danza Finale movement from Gaspar Cassadó's Suite, and then, throughout the entire concert the only piece by a still living composer. I mention it at the very end precisely because Svante Henryson's (b. 1963) "Black Run", played on the high-voltage strings by the high-tension fingers of Maria Salvatori, still resonates in my memory from a concert that was a brilliant showcase of the future of the cello.