Violist Richard Yongjae O’Neill’s Art of Giving

Violist Richard Yonjae O’Neill said the viola is a beautiful instrument with a wide range of colors and expression in a Korea Times interview in Seoul. In his new book “Enjoy the Classic, Ditto,” he writes how of the violin, viola and cello, the viola most closely resembles the human voice, particularly that of a loving mother. / Korea Times Photo by Shim Hyun-chul

Violist Richard Yongjae O'Neill reminds you of the Energizer Bunny. He keeps going and going. For the 29-year-old violist, it would be typical to go on a cross-country tour with Schubert across Korea, and then fly to Los Angeles to teach for eight hours before heading to New York.

After a few days of playing chamber music at the Lincoln Center and fiddling contemporary pieces at the Guggenheim, he's on the move again. Following a quick stop to lecture at UCLA, he's in Milan with John Zorn, making modern music history. This is how 2007 zipped past for the musician.

One of the few violists to ever receive the prestigious Avery Fisher Career Grant as well as a Grammy Award nomination (Best Soloist with Orchestra), Richard Yongjae O'Neill is rising to prominence as one of the leading artists of his generation. But it seems to be more than a deep passion for music that keeps him going. It is the power of sharing through music.

``An artist should give of oneself. It's important to give, to share, to reflect on the human condition, our finite existence, life, pain, death, all of these things,'' O'Neill told The Korea Times in January when he visited Seoul. He was celebrating New Year's with his New York-based chamber group Sejong Soloists at one of their sellout performances.

It was 7 p.m., and he looked like he was ready to drop after a full day of rehearsing, but he kept a smile on his face. For the photo shoot, I thought he'd just strike a pose with the viola, but he actually played segments of three pieces!

O'Neill is someone who, both on and offstage, is very willing to open up and reach out to others. He cannot walk past a homeless person without lending a helping hand ― though such eagerness has gotten him into trouble, like when one person attacked him in New York.

``It's sort of the same way when you're onstage. Of course you don't know everyone in the auditorium, but you have to have that same feeling of selflessness. You're on the stage for them; you have to open yourself up. Although they don't need help like the homeless, it's about sharing.

``We share the same conditions. Art is our way of being together in a society that is becoming increasingly fragmented and selfish. Music is a great way to relate with each other and it's just there to share,'' he said.

Perhaps this is what earns him rave reviews from the international press, who call him a ``ravishing,'' (London Times) and ``technically immaculate'' (Los Angeles Times) performer whose ``electric performance (holds) the audience in rapt attention'' (New York Times).

``Art is the best of humanity, our essence. It doesn't have anything to do with politics or money, and captures the best of the human condition, or more than the human condition. It transcends it because it doesn't die, it lives on,'' he said.

``A creative profession is an honor and a privilege. Adding something to the universe that's creating beauty is an amazing thing. I get the luxury of spending my days discussing details about phrase shapes, tempos, ideas and colors.

``It's funny how people see color when they hear music… If I were to describe myself in terms of a color, it'd be something dark. Maybe a darker, faded red… I gravitate toward that type of music, something darker, but live with energy,'' he said.

O'Neill said he couldn't imagine life without music. But "I could imagine going into social work helping people; I respect people that make it their life to help people. It's not only very noble but we need that. So much about our society is about money and making personal gain. We need people to be helping people," he said. >>More

Tenor Im Tae-kyung’s Crossover Life, Music

Standing at a three-way crossroads between a Ph. D in engineering, a lucrative job offer at a big company and an inner calling for music, crossover tenor Im Tae-kyung decided to walk the path of a musician. ``My heart said, sing,'' the 34-year-old told The Korea Times in a recent interview in Seoul. /Korea Times Photo by Shim Hyun-chul

This is the third in a series of interviews with the next generation of classical musicians. ― ED

With his own radio show and hit album, and appearing onstage with artists like Sumi Jo and leading major musicals, Im Tae-kyung seems like any other successful musician. But for the 34-year-old, it took a masters degree in engineering and overcoming leukemia to pursue his passion for music, and life.

Born in Korea, Im studied music at the elite Yewon School and Institute le Rosey in Switzerland. But his childhood dream was to become an engineer, so he majored in engineering at Worcestor Polytechnic Institute in Massachusetts while staying in tune with a minor in music. There were numerous offers from producers to make his singing debut, but he insisted on completing his undergraduate studies.

After graduating, Im decided it was time to sing, and received lessons from renowned Metropolitan Opera tenor Richard Casily for about a year. But this was no easy feat, as he had to ``beg him for three months'' to prove he was serious about music, Im said in a recent Korea Times interview.

Just when things started to go smoothly, including a chance to take part of a summer music program in Italy, Casily died from a heart attack. It was just before Im was to enter the master's program at Boston University in the fall.

The shock hit hard. ``I was devastated. It was the first time I felt discouraged from doing music,'' he said. Taking it as a sign that he should not sing, he went back to engineering.

Toward the end of his graduate studies, however, he learned something new about himself: What he had suffered from back in junior high school was not chronic anemia but leukemia. At the time, he was in treatment for more than a year. Although he should have continued treatment, which for his particular form of leukemia may have lasted at least 10 years, Im insisted on going back to school. His mother never told him what the diagnosis was.

Not only was he perfectly healthy, Im actively took part of team sports throughout his academic career. ``I'm an engineer; I like doing research. So I studied about terminal diseases, and found that your body produces the most hormones for fortifying the immune system when you are moved,'' he said. He believes being part of the sports drama and always being inspired by the arts helped him persevere.

``I started thinking about the meaning of life, why I was able to live on. I prayed everyday, and developed a dream: to pursue my desire, music, and to inspire those who are terminally ill that they, too, can overcome it,'' he said. ``I also became interested in social welfare _ not just giving through charity, but becoming involved with something more systematic,'' he said.

By then, pursuing a Ph. D in engineering was a sure path, but he was also recruited to work for a big automobile company. After about a month of deep deliberation, his pastor's words struck him: ``follow your heart.'' And so, he decided to answer the calling.

Crossover Life, Crossover Music

``Crossover music is straddling different genres of music, it's different from simple fusion. I love all types of genres. My mother is an amateur gugak (traditional Korean music) artist, so I grew up with that, and I also enjoy pop, jazz, Latin and Fado. And I've always done classical music. So it was natural that I do crossover music,'' said the engineer-turned-singer.

``I believe that a piece of music embodies the composer's thoughts, feelings and messages, and the role of the musician is to deliver them to the listener with our own expression.

``Crossover enables you to approach music for the sake of music by diminishing barriers between genres. For example, it's difficult to explain the concept of `han' or deep sorrow inherent to Korean culture to a non-Korean. But by incorporating gugak into jazz, you may not know what it is but feel heart-shattering grief.

``It may seem like mixing up different music genres. But I must have solid reasons for crossing one music type with another to produce a certain color, image or thought. Even if someone dismisses it as being too light, I've achieved my ultimate goal. I've worked hard to do something that can be easily accepted,'' he said.

Often, aspects of a musician's life define his/her music and the music defines parts of them, but it's quite rare that an artist's music and life coincide so entirely.

``In a way, I have no choice but to do crossover music. It's how I lived my life. I grew up in Korea but spent my teens in Europe and then moved to America. European, American and Korean societies all have a different air about them. Instead of trying to define it, I like to sense it. In terms of studies, I loved the sciences but I loved music and the arts. There's so much beauty in everything, and wouldn't it be a waste to just focus on one thing and try to communicate within it?

``In Europe, the word `sorrow' may be better understood than jazz music. It's understanding these distinctions and translating it through music,'' he said.

It's been six years since Im made the crossover to music, and he is indulging in ``the pure pleasure, pure excitement '' of being onstage. ``The eyes of an appreciative listener are so beautiful, almost like those of someone falling in love,'' he said.

The singer also mixed in a bit of acting, playing principal parts in musicals like ``Jesus Christ Superstar.'' During a performance of ``Winter Sonata'' in Japan a few years ago, a fall scene went bad, leaving him with two broken ribs. This was at the end of the first act. But somehow he managed to finish the show.

``I believe there are hardships but not impossibilities. We are given only as much pain as we can handle,'' he said. As for leukemia, he gets check-ups every now and then but said he is ``totally fine, better than fine, actually.''

Last year Im finally took a step toward making his dreams come true by launching a series of ``Concerts of Sharing'' (he doesn't like the word `charity') titled ``Sunaebo.''

``They're a cornerstone to my longtime social welfare project,'' said Im, who plans to expand by forming a team to discern who needs help where, and studying about welfare systems a bit more.

He also wishes to design a germ-free performance space for patients, where he can apply his engineering knowledge for his artistic goals and welfare concerns.

Offstage, he will release a project album as early as the end of March. This is great news for fans who have been waiting anxiously since his 2004 recording ``Sentimental Journey,'' which had instantly topped music charts.

For now, fans can meet Im at his upcoming solo concert, ``The First,'' Saturday at Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. Although it's not technically his first concert, the singer says it is his ``true first'' in that he will showcase his musicality in full. He will visit various genres ranging from classical and jazz to pop and musical scores. Call (02) 522-9933.

An artist with his own color, Im possesses a vibrant musical spectrum. But he said his music is ``colorless.''

``I hope my music would be a ray of light that gives true color to the object it touches,'' said Im. As if it were a touch of fate, a blinding shaft of sunlight pierced in from behind him, waking up the lazy afternoon.

Pianist Lim Dong-hyek Emerges From Slump With Bach

Korea Times Photo by Shim Hyun-chul

This is the second in a series of interviews with the next generation of classical musicians. ― ED

Lim Dong-hyek seems to have it all ― international competition trophies and two award-winning records with EMI under his belt before turning 20. To top it off, the 23-year-old has the cult following of a rock star in Korea.

His online fan club membership exceeds 400,000 people and his sold-out recitals start emptying out before curtains close as fans make an early exit to line up outside for his autograph. It's an unprecedented popularity for a classical musician here.

But in a recent Korea Times interview in Seoul, he rejected the notion of stars in classical music as well as nicknames like ``prodigy'' the public gave him. ``I mean, come on, Mozart was a true prodigy,'' he said.His denial, however, was not marked by humility but rather an unrestrained outspokenness, which kept his manager uneasy throughout the interview.

Lim seemed to break just about every stereotype of a classical musician. He doesn't live and breathe music 24 hours a day. In fact, he said he prefers not to talk about music in private situations and finds computer games more stimulating than the piano.

``Games are so strongly addictive, but why isn't the piano like that?'' he said jokingly. But he thought for a moment and said, ``But then again, the piano is like a soft addiction,'' he said.And staying away from the stage, where one can truly indulge in the ``soft addiction,'' was surely painful. The past two years for Lim was a long period of ennui and confusion as an artistic slump hit. But it was while playing a computer game that he heard a CD ― Glen Gould's rendition of Bach's Goldberg Variations ― and snapped out of it.

Now he's back in Korea for a recital tour, currently making his way across 12 cities through March 7.

Back With Bach

Going back a bit, how did it all happen? Lim is a prime example of success stories that encourage aspiring classical musicians to flock overseas to master the art of classical music. He himself endorses foreign training. ``Classical music is after all a Western art. I think learning about the culture helps better understand it,'' he said.

Lim started the piano at a relatively late age of seven, but by 10 had moved to Moscow, where he gave recitals attended by Russian president Boris Yeltsin. He went on to study in Hanover and is now at the Juilliard School in New York with Emmanuel Ax.

But it was far from easy.

In addition to the constant artistic battle with the self, he had to fight another war against prejudice. ``Racial discrimination is a lot more prevalent in the classical music world than you think. I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,'' he said. In 2005 he shared third place with his older brother Dong-min at the International Chopin event, where there was no second prizewinner. It was a phenomenal achievement, but the experience proved to be rather anticlimactic for Lim.

``I expect the worst for each competition, but the next is always even worse,'' said Lim, who will probably be forever known as the pianist who declined third prize at the 2003 Queen Elisabeth Competition in Brussels.He felt tired and decided to stay out of the competition pool. Entering one competition after another had kept him focused, and lacking an immediate goal, he ``lounged around doing nothing.''

``I didn't really know which direction to take,'' he said. ``But (the slump) would have come sooner or later, and I'm glad I got through it now. It's better now than later.

``Besides, what else can I do?'' he said. ``Playing the piano is the only thing I know how to do. It would be a waste to just throw away all the effort I've put into it,'' he said casually, but then said, ``The slump actually made me realize how much I can't live without music.'' Hearing Bach's Goldberg Variations by chance would inspire him to start anew. When you've hit rock bottom, there's nowhere else to go but up.

Last June, he made a comeback to the competition circle, finishing fourth at the Tchaikovsky event. He took up his new repertoire with vigor. Known as an interpreter of Chopin, Lim interpreter calls it ``stealing a glance of Bach.'' ``It's part of a never-ending process of learning as a musician. I thought if I were to do it, I might as well do a big piece. The Goldberg Variations is such a well-known piece, so it's a great challenge.``I learned the Chopin pieces with my heart, but had to use more of my head for Bach.

``It was like water and oil, they didn't mix together well,'' he said. Has Bach reached his heart yet? ``I'm not sure, I'll have to see with the first performance. Playing the piece onstage before an audience reveals its true charms,'' he said.

Lim will be giving his sixth performance tonight (Wednesday). He is still nervous each time he goes onstage, but each recital brings him closer to Bach, according to his manager.``It sounds a bit abstract, but it's all about communicating beauty. If I can touch or move the audience in any way, my mission is complete,'' he said. He will also be recording an album in April after the tour. ``But I'm not going to stay with Bach for too long. It's sort of ironic, but it's part of exploring something else so I can do what I do (Romantic works) better,'' he said.

And so his transformation as artist and as an individual continues. ``I want to mature as a human being,'' he said. As a musician, he refused to be defined in one color.``It's like a prism,'' he said about his musical world. ``The hue depends on how you look at it, and constantly changes depending on when and where it is.''

But some things don't seem to change. He's been living abroad for 14 years now, but remains Korean to the core. He only eats Korean food, including breakfast, and can't live without kimchi jjigae (pot stew) and gobchang gui (grilled small intestine of cattle). Lim said now that he's stepped out of the slump, he wants to gain weight and be healthier. Perhaps some Korean food in Korea would do the trick.

Lim is presenting a full program that includes the Goldberg Variations as well as Chaconne, BWV 1004 and the chorale preludes by Bach/Busoni. He will perform tonight (Feb. 20) in Ulsan; Friday at Goyang; Saturday at Nowon; Feb. 26 in Seoul; Feb. 28 in Seongnam; Feb. 29 in Suwon; March 3 in Seosan; and March 7 in Gwacheon.

The Seoul performance will take place at 8 p.m. at the concert hall of the Seoul Arts Center. Tickets cost 30,000-80,000 won. Call 1577-5266 for tickets and (02) 318-4303 for inquiries.