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In 1965, international competitions were rare, and I didn’t have any immediate solutions for my life after failing to win the competition. When I returned to France, Pierre Jamet (who was also on the jury of the competition) had but one wish – to invite Mme. Dulova to Gargilesse. From that time on, I watched for every Bolshoi tour to France and never missed a chance to hear the great harp cadenzas of Tchaikovsky, Glazunov and others. During that time, Mme. Dulova also helped me prepare the Gliere Concerto before I recorded it in 1977.
At last the summer came when Mme. Dulova played at Gargilesse, and it was a moving experience for me. It is hard to say what impressed me most, but it had to do with the way that all of her being was in harmony with the music she played. Even now as I write, I remember her extraordinary quality of gestures, and I can also see the expressions on her face. For Mme. Dulova, only the essential part of music counted, and no easy effect had a place in her work. I was excited to discover another way of playing, to hear another literature, and to feel that this perfection would only be accessible by technical work and diligent musical research.
When I was a student of Pierre Jamet, he never played recitals. (He gave his last concert at age 90 interpreting the Debussy Danses with Pierre Boulez.) M. Jamet would always teach us how to correct a fault or improve our technique or musicality, but the profession seemed to me vague and inaccessible. It was difficult for me to see clearly what road I should take. From Mme. Dulova, I began to better understand how to build a real professional life. I observed her in concert and saw her surrounded by her students and admired by the many professional harpists who gathered at the Holland Harpweeks or Gargilesse. I remember her kindness to her colleagues and the respect she inspired by simply being herself. I remember how the students looked up to her and waited to hear her commentary on their presentation. It was bad luck for the student who had not played the way Mme. Dulova had wanted them to play! On the other hand, one or two words of praise would suffice to illuminate the faces of Natasha, Emilia, Tatiana (or any of her students), when the “Madame” was happy.
After quite a few years of meetings and some professional growth by me, it seemed clear that Mme. Dulova had integrated me as one of her children. Because I lost my mother when I was very young, I have always believed that Heaven sent a few substitute mothers to me, and Mme. Dulova was definitely one of them. But let us return to the shock I experienced from my first contact with the Russian School.
Like every graduate of the Paris Conservatory, I thought the most difficult things were behind me. Even though M. Jamet congratulated me on my unanimous first prize at age 15, he added, “You will play well in ten years.”
What clairvoyance! All I needed to do was to work, but I didn’t know how to attain the summits or how to focus my efforts. Everything seemed hazy. In effect, many of my questions were answered at the Israel Competition. Each morning at 7:30 A. M., I would hear “the Russians” warming up with the slowness of a dancer who starts on her barre with the demi-plié, plié, battements tendus and upward to the more complicated exercises. I was impressed by such patience and perseverance. If there was a way to become a virtuoso, this was surely the way.
At this time in my life, I had the habit of playing my repertoire with great speed and not worrying about the state of my muscles, my tendons or even less, the skin on my fingers. The methodical and organized preparation of these Russian competitors brought back to me the teaching of Pierre Jamet that I never followed! I had actually convinced myself that these insidious and boring exercises were for the less-gifted students!
When I returned to Paris, I eagerly consulted all of the études that “slept” in my mother’s library. (My mother had been a student of Marcel Tournier.) From that moment on, the method of Coeur became my Bible and the exercises of Larivrière my daily prayers. And thus, I started to become more disciplined in my work. As the months passed, I acquired a solid technique, and because of this, I became more serene in my musicianship.
Mme. Dulova remained for me the ideal successful woman in her art. (The ideal masculine image in my eyes was Pierre Jamet.) It seemed that she was a soloist in all senses of the word. She gave recitals, played concerti with orchestra, was soloist with the Bolshoi Theater and also shared her knowledge as a teacher. How could I not hope to imitate her? She was a complete artist.
When the first time came that I was invited to sit at the same table with Mme. Dulova as a juror for an international harp competition, I could not hide my pride. Suddenly, the one who had been a judge to me became an accomplice with me in the destiny of other young people. I redoubled my attention so that I wouldn’t make a mistake in my choices. This very special way of evolving at her side as a judge was given to me many times in England, USA and France, and each time I learned something from her.
At this point in my memories of Mme. Dulova, I would also like to speak about the quality of human rapport, admiration and affection that I witnessed between many “great” artists of the harp world. I ca
One can give all the advice in heaven and earth with competence and seriousness, but unless it is applied by the student, the result will be mediocre. During the recent master class given by Susa
This photo could be that of my parents, as both gave me sincere advice and love. When Pierre Jamet left us I felt the need to visit Mme. Dulova. I made the decision to go to Moscow in 1997, and when I arrived Natasha Shameyeva (a friend for 30 years) let me know that “Madame” was waiting for me and that I needed to hurry because we could not make “Madame” wait! Her apartment reflected her immense personality. The quality of her furniture, the paintings and her personal belongings transported me instantly to the Russia of the Tzars. A di
Despite my improvised excuse, she looked at me severely, and none of the reasons I voiced seemed to have value in her eyes. I had erred professionally and she let me know it. In returning to my hotel, I further realized the attachment of this woman who was not content just to teach the harp and the music but felt it her responsibility to go beyond musical considerations. She guided her students to the highest posts in Russia and abroad. I could not escape this rule, and the trip was very intense. Natasha took time to accompany me to museums and splendid churches, and Mme. Dulova arranged a reunion of about 30 students at the Moscow Conservatory for me to meet I was overwhelmed to hear the exceptional talent and deeply moved to be honored by her in this occasion. The day I left, after I had visited St. Basil’s Church situated in Red Square, I made a last visit to Mme. Dulova. Her chauffeur was waiting to take her to her country home. She insisted upon driving me to the airport, and she waved at me the longest time. I suspected then that that would be the last time…