Toby Appel

 

AN INTERVIEW WITH TOBY APPEL

This season we thought it would be interesting to feature an upcoming musician on the website prior to their performance. I put some questions to Toby Appel, violist, narrator, humorist, and overall interesting character. Toby will be one of seven musicians playing on the September 27 and 28 concerts, so if you like his answers come hear him play the viola. Or just come to the concerts anyway.

1. You are known for your considerable talents as both a violinist and violist. Which instrument did you start with and at what age? Do you prefer one over the other?

My farmer dad played cello and my two nasty older sisters played one violin each, so it was pretty much of a no brainer (which was right up my alley) for me to play the viola. I was nine years old, and had been a washout as a pianist at age seven, and even though I liked the French horn, (and we happened to have an extra one lying around the house), my dad wasn’t interested in paying for horn lessons. So, at eight years of age, I had to use my own money. It was a buck a lesson, and I had eight bucks. After I became bankrupt, my brass career was finished and I was not quite nine years old. It was at that rather ripe old age I was taken in to Max Aronoff, who looked at my hands and told my dad to bring me in the following week for a lesson. That was 1961, and three years later I was accepted, on full scholarship, to The Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. It was 29 years later that I was offered a job as first violinist with a well-respected quartet (at least until I joined), and I thought it would be a fun thing, as I had never even tried to play the violin before. I asked them to give me a few weeks to learn a couple tunes, and then went to read with them; Mozart d minor, Brahms a minor and I think maybe Shostakovich 8th Quartet. I got the job, and was a violinist for several years. I actually went back and forth in those years, and continue to do so to this very day. I love playing viola when the tunes are good, and I’m playing with stellar folks, but it’s really fun to play violin, as you get all the choice bits and lots of control over the musical shape.

2. Who were some of your earliest artistic influences?

My teacher played beautifully and had a flawless technique. I went regularly to hear the Curtis and Juilliard Quartets at the Free Library in Philly, and knew the recordings of the Budapest and Flonzalay Quartets, as well as many of the recordings of violinists Jascha Heifetz; Nathan Milstein; Fritz Kreisler; Joseph Szegetti; and Yehudi Menuhin; violists William Primrose and Lionel Tertis; cellists Emanuel Feuerman, Pierre Fournier and Pablo Casals; and pianists Artur Rubenstein; Vladimir Horowitz and Artur Balsum. I can go on with that list, with the great voices of Chaliapin, Fischer Dieskau, and Tauber, and then there are other voices like Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, etc. I suppose that my greatest influence was my very own teacher, Max Aronoff. His good humor, attention to detail, and incredibly beautiful sound made him the perfect teacher for me…and lots of other folks as well.

3. You have a long and illustrious history in the academic world as well. What advice would you give a young musician thinking of entering the classical music field?

I started young, I suppose. I was teaching at the State University of New York at Binghamton when I was 18 years old, starting as a lecturer and artist in residence, and over the nine years there, worked my way up the academic ranks of assistant and associate to finally attaining full professorship status in my early twenties. From there, I went on to professorships at Virginia Polytechnic Institute, Blacksburgh, Virginia; The University of New Mexico, Albuquerque, New Mexico; The Juilliard School, New York City; Carnegie Mellon University, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; and The Yale School of Music, New Haven, Connecticut. I now teach exclusively at The Juilliard School, where I’ve been on the viola and chamber music faculties for the past 21 years.

I would recommend not going into the classical music field unless you absolutely love it, and can think of nothing which makes you happier. I enjoy the mix I have in my life with teaching and performing. Travel is not all that much fun, now that I’m in my mid 90’s, but I guess I do remember enjoying it lots when I was younger, and there are still many pleasures in going to wonderful cities around the world, and getting to see old friends, built up over a life in music. Perhaps because of my wonderful relationship with my own teacher, I find it very rewarding to work with my students at Juilliard. I particularly enjoy working with my younger students in the Juilliard Pre College, where I’m working with some hugely talented ten-year-old artists. That can be lots of fun.

4. Briefly explain why Frankly Music is your favorite chamber music series in the world.

I’m not sure that a brief statement will be sufficient. First off, he keeps inviting me back. Plus his wife is a doll, the kids are perfect, and he’s deaf in both ears. What could be better?

On the other hand, Frank is a much loved and respected colleague and friend, and he likes to play music with people who enjoy it as much as he does. Frank likes good food and drink, and has a wit and charm which make it fun to hang out with him. He’s a classy guy and I’ve always enjoyed being on stage with him. Well, most of the time. And his wife is a babe.

5. You have a number of outside interests, including world-class abilities as a chef. Can you expand a bit about that, as well as your culinary association with the artist Georgia O’Keefe?

When I was a nine year old, I had a Chinese friend who took me to a terrific restaurant in Philadelphia to eat black sea snails in garlic sauce, and from that day forward I wanted to know how to cook properly. I tried to pay attention whenever I was around someone who knew a thing or two. A few years later, over the summer, I attached myself to the terrific cook at my parent’s summer camp, The Appel Farm, in Elmer, New Jersey. I wasn’t all that interested in being a camper, and instead spent my time teaching swimming and working in the kitchen. Vera was a terrific boss, and had a great way of teaching. She would tell me to make French toast for 300 people and then if it didn’t go well, she’d tell me what I might do the next time to make it better. I developed then an ability to cook for lots of folks without getting freaked out. I left home when I was about twelve years old, and stayed with family friends for a few years, and then got my own place when I was fifteen. In my small kitchenette in center city Philly, I found a way not to starve to death on a very limited budget. It was my experimental period, and I shudder to think of what concoctions I wolfed down. When I was eighteen, I had a girlfriend who was a first class cook, and she was nice enough to let me learn from her, mostly Chinese cooking. Her parents let me watch as well, and when I started seriously traveling the world, I paid good attention to the food situation. In NY, I was able to take some cooking classes and I like to read a good variety of cookbooks. When I lived in Santa Fe, I was asked to cook for Georgia O’ Keefe and did so for a short time. I shopped, cooked, served, cleaned and went home tired five days a week. It wasn’t really an association, but a job. We had little contact with each other, except to say that she liked my cooking and thought I was paid too much.

6. On average, how much do you practice each day?

On average, huh? Let’s put it this way…when I have notes to learn, I learn them. I enjoy being well prepared, and I have little patience when other folks are not. I was and am lucky to have had the best training right from the start, so I don’t have bad habits to deal with in my playing, which slow down the learning process. I believe in quality, not quantity. How’s that for avoiding the question?

7. How did you become interested in narration, and is that a regular part of your professional life?

When I was a little kid, my dad had a hired hand from North Carolina. I liked the way Ed talked, and liked hanging out with him, and after a little while, I started talking like him. I hope he didn’t think I was making fun of him. I found that my ear allowed me to take on many different accents and voices, from the farm animals to many accents. Years later, the folks at Chamber Music Northwest, in Portland, Oregon, assigned me the role of the devil in Stravinsky’s H’istoire du Soldat. Peter Schickele was the narrator, and Fred Sherry was the soldier. It was lots of fun. A few years later, I was asked by the NPR recording team at the Santa Fe Chamber Festival to cater a dinner party. After that, they asked if I might allow them into my kitchen to do an interview. Back in New York, NPR in Washington, DC, called to ask if I might be interested in writing some segments for them. Some on food, some on music, mostly strange and off the wall sorts of things. It was fun, and I wrote maybe twenty shows for them. That led to being asked to narrate pieces from Schoenberg’s Napoleon with the Lincoln Center Chamber Music Society, to playing and narrating at the same time Monro Leaf’s Ferdinand the Bull. Every summer I write and act as master of ceremonies at Music From Angel Fire’s salon concert. If there is anyone out there needing voice over work, I’m your man.

8. What’s the most difficult thing about being a classical musician, and what’s the most enjoyable?

Things are tougher now than when I was coming up and looking for work. There is more competition and the overall level is stronger. Positions in orchestra and chamber groups, at least in this country, are hard to come by. Music school and nice instruments and bows are expensive. The huge numbers of terrific young players from Asia now are making the competition even rougher, but there is another side of all this. There will be lots of demand for terrific players in China and Korea and many other places in the world, which will be better off with wonderful orchestras and quartets playing in every town. And the Chinese are making some terrific instruments and for not much money, which has been very difficult for the American makers trying to survive.

Many composers saved their most intimate and beautiful thoughts for string quartet and other small chamber ensembles. To be a part of a world-class string quartet, playing the late works of Beethoven, Schubert, and Mozart is an amazing and rewarding thing. Tchaikovsky and Strauss aren’t so bad either.

9. What’s your view on the classical music field right now? Is there a “crisis”?

Over the years, I’ve worked with many really gifted young artists, many of whom are making a life in music. Perhaps it’s a different life than they had imagined for themselves, but I think, for the most part, that they feel the rewards are worth the lifetime of work and devotion. Many major orchestras have had to find interesting and inventive ways to attract new monies and audiences. There are classical and crossover concerts in bars and clubs and restaurants and in the desert and all over the place. How can that be a bad thing? I see more and more very gifted young musicians come to audition at Juilliard and at the many summer festivals in which I take part. A crisis? Yes. The end of classical music? No.

10. In the music world, viola jokes are sort of like lawyer jokes. Why do you think that is?

I can’t speak to the question about lawyers, but the viola jokes, in my humble opinion, are well deserved. Many violists were once not such strong violinists who switched over, becoming even weaker violists. Some of those folks became viola teachers. Do the math. There are, however, more and more folks, and I’m one of then, who started out on the viola. I am not bothered by viola jokes, unless they are not funny, and most are pretty funny. It’s a very bad idea to get to the point where you can’t make fun of yourself. And it’s always seemed to me that the violists who get most upset by viola jokes, are the folks about whom those jokes are poking fun. Did I just say that?

11. What makes a great live performance, as opposed to sitting at home and listening to a CD?

I’m not interested in simply hearing the notes. I want to hear the music, and for that, you need a live audience. Being there when it happens, live and unadorned, seeing and hearing and experiencing it all at the same time is what it’s about. A great performance is one where the performers trust each other, know what the hell they are doing, play their instruments incredibly well, understand what great sound is all about, and are playing for an educated and interested and motivated audience. Sitting at home is for when you want to hear the folks who are no longer with us, and especially, when you can find them, to unedited live recordings, where there was an audience and the artists had a point of view and took musical chances. If you live way out in the boonies, you may be more in need of a large library of recordings, but do me a favor. Try to get out more.

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