Isaac Stern

ISAAC STERN was the most influential violinist of our time. His range was breathtaking, his enthusiasm infectious. Mr. Stern, who died at age 81 over the weekend, was a man of strong convictions. He passionately fought to save Carnegie Hall. He ardently supported Israel. And his adamant boycott of Germany, because of the Holocaust, ended only two years ago when he finally agreed to go there for a nine-day teaching seminar. Despite his hectic concert schedules, Mr. Stern had a burning desire to teach.

On its last trip to Japan five years ago, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra was a smash. With violin legend Isaac Stern as a drawing-card soloist, the orchestra was a popular and critical success, its tour dampened only by a sudden illness suffered by its music director. On Tuesday, the BSO sets out across the Pacific again, but this time things are different - a lot different. With a new music director, two featured soloists who are less than household names and an orchestra that's been reshaped in both personnel and sound, the BSO will face a challenge in conquering this key classical music market again.

MORIOKA, Japan -- Isaac Stern is talking to his violin."C'mon baby, back to sleep," the violinist says tenderly, tucking the priceless Guarnerius del Gesu once owned by the legendary Eugene Ysaye back into its case.When the great violinist will get the rest he bestows upon his beloved instrument is less certain.Stern, the Baltimore Symphony and conductor David Zinman had just delivered a passionate performance of Bruch's G Minor Concerto to a wildly appreciative audience here last night, just as they had the night before in Tokyo's Suntory Hall.

BOSTON - I was only too eager to accept my father's offer to assist him in a teaching project in Jerusalem for two weeks. I had just finished college and had nothing resembling a career to pursue. I fell in love with Israel and asked my father if I could remain after he departed. He was delighted and gave his approval. The first question, however, was where would I live? A telephone call to my mother brought news that the violinist Isaac Stern, an old friend of hers - my mother by this time had long retired from her career as a concert pianist - was staying in a hotel outside Tel Aviv.

For more than 15 years, Isaac Stern has appeared to music lovers less like a great violinist and more like, to quote William Butler Yeats, "a sixty-year-old smiling public man."This is scarcely surprising. In the years since 1960, Stern -- who celebrated his 75th birthday last year -- has saved Carnegie Hall, contributed mightily to the fight for racial equality, helped create the National Endowment for the Arts, raised millions of dollars for the state of Israel, starred in an Academy Award-winnning documentary ("From Mao to Mozart: Isaac Stern in China")

NOT TOO long ago, I watched Isaac Stern being interviewed by Charlie Rose, and I noted with pleasure that time had been kind to the wondrous fiddler. The hair was all silver now, for sure, and the face seemed a bit more jowly than I remembered it, but the eyes still had their sparkle, and the resonant baritone held its own against the voice of Rose, which is not always easy to do. The news was that Isaac Stern had just written a book about himself called "My First 79 Years." And this is music to my ears.

AS BUSY as he is, [violinist] Isaac Stern will make time to see people. Here I am, exactly half his age, with, supposedly, a lot more energy, and I try to do the same thing. But wherever I go to hear people, he has already heard them somewhere.Why does he make that effort? It's not ambition or mere physical energy. Mr. Stern is deeply moved by things, by people, by music, by events. He cares about violin playing and about the profession, and he gets excited when he sees talent. He reaches out, and he gets something in return: understanding.

BOSTON - I was only too eager to accept my father's offer to assist him in a teaching project in Jerusalem for two weeks. I had just finished college and had nothing resembling a career to pursue. I fell in love with Israel and asked my father if I could remain after he departed. He was delighted and gave his approval. The first question, however, was where would I live? A telephone call to my mother brought news that the violinist Isaac Stern, an old friend of hers - my mother by this time had long retired from her career as a concert pianist - was staying in a hotel outside Tel Aviv.

These days, New York's landmark buildings seem more valuable -- and vulnerable -- than ever. One of them, Carnegie Hall, nearly disappeared in 1960, to make way for a parking lot. What stopped the wrecking ball was a short, plump man best known for playing the violin very well. His name was Isaac Stern. If Stern, who died Saturday of heart failure in New York at the age 81, had done nothing else in his life but save Carnegie Hall, he'd still be one of America's musical giants. But the violinist, being mourned worldwide, did a lot more than preserve a great edifice.

As a weary David Zinman relaxed in his Meyerhoff Hall dressing room Monday after a grueling two-day recording session, he began to reflect on his 10 seasons in Baltimore when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.It was Joshua Bell, the violin soloist in the three works that had just been recorded. He was about to leave for the Midwest, and he wanted to say goodbye."You made it all work out," Bell said as he embraced the conductor. Zinman, as almost every musician who has worked with him says, is a soloist's best friend.

ISAAC STERN was the most influential violinist of our time. His range was breathtaking, his enthusiasm infectious. Mr. Stern, who died at age 81 over the weekend, was a man of strong convictions. He passionately fought to save Carnegie Hall. He ardently supported Israel. And his adamant boycott of Germany, because of the Holocaust, ended only two years ago when he finally agreed to go there for a nine-day teaching seminar. Despite his hectic concert schedules, Mr. Stern had a burning desire to teach.

These days, New York's landmark buildings seem more valuable -- and vulnerable -- than ever. One of them, Carnegie Hall, nearly disappeared in 1960, to make way for a parking lot. What stopped the wrecking ball was a short, plump man best known for playing the violin very well. His name was Isaac Stern. If Stern, who died Saturday of heart failure in New York at the age 81, had done nothing else in his life but save Carnegie Hall, he'd still be one of America's musical giants. But the violinist, being mourned worldwide, did a lot more than preserve a great edifice.

Mark O'Connor is on the phone from New York, explaining why he had to make a change in his schedule. "I came in a day early and went to Isaac Stern's birthday party," he says. "Lot of good music, friends. Yo-Yo played, Manny Ax, Midori, Zukerman. It was good." To some music fans, it may seem odd that O'Connor would be on such intimate terms with classical musicians. Sure, he's made a few genre-jumping albums with Yo-Yo Ma, "Appalachian Journey" being the most recent. But Isaac Stern? Pinchas Zukerman?

NOT TOO long ago, I watched Isaac Stern being interviewed by Charlie Rose, and I noted with pleasure that time had been kind to the wondrous fiddler. The hair was all silver now, for sure, and the face seemed a bit more jowly than I remembered it, but the eyes still had their sparkle, and the resonant baritone held its own against the voice of Rose, which is not always easy to do. The news was that Isaac Stern had just written a book about himself called "My First 79 Years." And this is music to my ears.

MORIOKA, Japan -- Isaac Stern is talking to his violin."C'mon baby, back to sleep," the violinist says tenderly, tucking the priceless Guarnerius del Gesu once owned by the legendary Eugene Ysaye back into its case.When the great violinist will get the rest he bestows upon his beloved instrument is less certain.Stern, the Baltimore Symphony and conductor David Zinman had just delivered a passionate performance of Bruch's G Minor Concerto to a wildly appreciative audience here last night, just as they had the night before in Tokyo's Suntory Hall.

For more than 15 years, Isaac Stern has appeared to music lovers less like a great violinist and more like, to quote William Butler Yeats, "a sixty-year-old smiling public man."This is scarcely surprising. In the years since 1960, Stern -- who celebrated his 75th birthday last year -- has saved Carnegie Hall, contributed mightily to the fight for racial equality, helped create the National Endowment for the Arts, raised millions of dollars for the state of Israel, starred in an Academy Award-winnning documentary ("From Mao to Mozart: Isaac Stern in China")

Mark O'Connor is on the phone from New York, explaining why he had to make a change in his schedule. "I came in a day early and went to Isaac Stern's birthday party," he says. "Lot of good music, friends. Yo-Yo played, Manny Ax, Midori, Zukerman. It was good." To some music fans, it may seem odd that O'Connor would be on such intimate terms with classical musicians. Sure, he's made a few genre-jumping albums with Yo-Yo Ma, "Appalachian Journey" being the most recent. But Isaac Stern? Pinchas Zukerman?

On its last trip to Japan five years ago, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra was a smash. With violin legend Isaac Stern as a drawing-card soloist, the orchestra was a popular and critical success, its tour dampened only by a sudden illness suffered by its music director. On Tuesday, the BSO sets out across the Pacific again, but this time things are different - a lot different. With a new music director, two featured soloists who are less than household names and an orchestra that's been reshaped in both personnel and sound, the BSO will face a challenge in conquering this key classical music market again.

As a weary David Zinman relaxed in his Meyerhoff Hall dressing room Monday after a grueling two-day recording session, he began to reflect on his 10 seasons in Baltimore when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.It was Joshua Bell, the violin soloist in the three works that had just been recorded. He was about to leave for the Midwest, and he wanted to say goodbye."You made it all work out," Bell said as he embraced the conductor. Zinman, as almost every musician who has worked with him says, is a soloist's best friend.

WASHINGTON -- ONE DAY in the winter of 1989, I walked into my condominium in downtown Washington and found Mstislav Rostropovich, the great Russian/American conductor, standing at our front desk. This remarkable man, always so in control of everything, seemed slightly dazed, and there was a look of pure joy on his face.After greeting me, he stood still for several long seconds. "Last night, I conducted 250 cellists," he finally murmured. "Last night, I conducted 250 cellists . . ."At that moment, I saw as close to a beatific joy as I have ever seen, next to certain pictures of saints.