American Double Bassist James VanDemark on Commissions and Premieres of Ukrainian Music

Dzvenyslava Safian

1 month ago

Widely recognized as one of the most brilliant double bass virtuosi, James VanDemark was hailed by The New York Times for his “exceptional gift” and “spontaneous musical instincts” at his Lincoln Center debut. Since making his solo debut with the Minnesota Orchestra at just 15 years old, he has performed with leading orchestras including the New York Philharmonic, St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, Buffalo Philharmonic, and Netherlands Radio Symphony.

A versatile musician, VanDemark has appeared in recital with André Watts and collaborated with ensembles such as the Guarneri and Cleveland Quartets. He has premiered works by Pulitzer Prize-winning composers and continues to inspire as Professor of Double Bass and Co-Chair of Strings at the Eastman School of Music. His students hold positions in major orchestras worldwide.

On May 14, the musician will give a master class for young performers at the Lviv National Philharmonic, then on the 16th of May, the Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra will collaborate with VanDemark within the framework of the 44th “Virtuosos” International Festival, on the 23rd of May in the National Philharmonic of Ukraine (Kyiv) presenting the world premieres of the double bass concerto by two Ukrainian authors. The famous bass player initiated the compositions.

— Could you tell how the idea for these two concert commissions came about, and how you first became familiar with the work and creativity of composers Kolomiiets and Shved?

I have kind of a history with Ukrainian people, starting when I was a teenager living by myself in Canada. At 17, I was playing principal bass in an orchestra there, but a Ukrainian family took me in for a year to help me out as a young teenager with a lot of work responsibilities, and that left me forever indebted.

Later, when I became a professor of double bass at the Eastman School of Music, one of my very close friends was the Ukrainian violinist Oleh Krysa. Oleh had played in Lviv, and his family was deeply involved in music there. He and I became very close, and I also became close friends with his children, who are around my age.

I’ve always followed events in Ukraine, especially during the war, and I’m very supportive of Ukraine. When I heard that my friend Theodore Kuchar was conducting the National Philharmonic of Ukraine–Lviv on an American tour, I thought it was wonderful. In fact, Oleh Krysa was the soloist for one or two of the concerts.

I knew Ted from playing chamber music with him in the past, in Puerto Rico. When the Philharmonic came through Rochester and played at the Eastman School, they were short one bass player — someone had to leave because of a family illness or death (not related to the war). At the end of rehearsal that day, just about an hour before the concert, Ted Kuchar came to me and asked if I could fill in with the bass section. I asked about the program, realized I knew it, and said I’d be delighted.

I met all the musicians in the orchestra, really liked them, especially the bass section. After the concert, they got so many curtain calls and encores, and it was just great. That’s exactly what happened in Rochester. Ted had told me they were also playing at Carnegie Hall, and I said, “I’m in for Carnegie Hall. I’ll be there.”

So that’s how that relationship continued — a lot of it through the music director. Having commissioned a fair number of works for double bass in the past, I thought it would be important to try and commission Ukrainian composers to write for the double bass. If possible, I wanted to play those pieces in Ukraine under any circumstances — and that’s basically what’s happening now.

— You’ve collaborated with the orchestra before, but this will be your first time visiting Ukraine, correct?

I’ve heard about it for years because Oleh Krysa is from Lviv, and his family lived there. I heard so much about it from him and from my other Ukrainian friends. So, it’s time — and now I have these two wonderful pieces to come and play. I was introduced to both composers through Ted Kuchar and his network of friends. I’ve been lucky to have conversations with both Maksym Kolomiiets and Mykhailo Shved about what they envisioned for the instrument, the setting, and the kind of statement they wanted to make.

Talking a little about the instrument, one exciting thing is that both composers are very accomplished instrumentalists themselves — Maksym is an oboist, Mykhailo is a pianist. They know what they’re doing; they wrote very well for the double bass and the orchestra.

— You worked with them directly before they began composing? Have you had a chance to see the scores yet?

Yes. The work by Mykhailo Shved is titled Candle. The piece by Kolomiiets is a Concertino in three brief movements.

In Shved’s Candle, you’ll hear high-pitched lyricism — something stunning and profound. And there will be more of Candle in the future: likely two more movements to come. In the case of Kolomiiets, the music is quite rhapsodic and lyrical. Some sections are rather free in character. Yet both works share a beautiful lyricism — a wonderful lyrical quality for the bass.

Mykhailo Shved. Candle

Kolomiiets’s Concertino explores the full range of the bass, including a lot of the lower register. It will be very interesting to see how it blends with the orchestra. Hearing the Kolomiiets piece reminds me of when I was a teenager in Canada, going to concerts by Ukrainian choirs — that kind of rich, low expressive singing. His music captures that feeling, along with other qualities that, in both works, feel almost celestial. As for the Kolomiiets Concertino, and I know he wouldn’t want me to give this away, there is a surprise ending. It’s rather theatrical, but I think we’ll keep it a secret for the audience to discover.

Both works are full of meaning. They are wordless, yet through the music you will hear what each composer is saying — something deeply connected to this moment, however you choose to define it. It’s truly an honor to be able to play them.

— You mentioned that you’ve commissioned works for the double bass before, and we know it can be a challenging and unusual instrument for many composers. What qualities do you look for in these pieces when inviting composers to write for the double bass? What is most important to you in that process?

I think the most important thing for composers — and this has been my approach historically — is to give them a free hand, allowing them to write as they wish, without saying, “Oh, you have to do this for me.”

Particularly with Kolomiiets and Shved, I wasn’t interested in dictating anything. I wanted them to be familiar with what I can do, of course, but I also told both Maxim and Mykhailo: “You should say what you want to say, and my role is to try and bring that to life”.

Maxim Kolomiiets. Concertino

In the past — and this goes back some time — I’ve had, for example, four Pulitzer Prize winners write pieces for me. And they were all very different. In some cases, like with Gian Carlo Menotti, who wrote a bass concerto for me that premiered with the New York Philharmonic and was played many times, he knew my playing well. He had heard me perform often at the Spoleto Festival in Italy, which he directed. He offered a little consultation during the process, but he ultimately wrote a very operatic piece for the bass — which was fine, no complaints — and a challenging piece, too.

Another example is Pulitzer Prize winner Joseph Schwantner, who wrote something very different: a piece that pushed into the stratosphere in terms of pitch. He even asked me to whistle and sing a little during the performance. So, you never know what you’ll get — but I wanted a range of works that weren’t just typical double bass pieces.

And I think that’s happening again with these two composers. Maybe the goal is similar, but the ways they arrive there are quite different — and that’s what’s so exciting.

— Let’s say you could only pick one musical style to live with. Which one would you choose, and what makes it your favorite?

That’s a tricky question. For me, I love playing whatever I have to play. My favorite piece is always the one I’m playing — that’s the only way it works for me and for the people who come to hear me.

I really enjoy music from every period. I’m very adaptable. I should also mention that one of the pieces written for me not long ago required me to sing throughout — and it was a 12-tone piece. So I was playing and singing all these dissonant intervals at the same time. Honestly, it was a great education, like earning a PhD in music theory, just to be able to hear it and perform it accurately. But I loved doing it. It was completely different from anything I had done before.

I don’t want to do the same thing all the time, and this whole experience will be different for me in many ways. That said, I couldn’t be happier with the music I’ve just received.

I really love it all. I love playing Baroque music, I love playing in orchestras — even though I don’t play full time in an orchestra anymore. I also teach students with a wide range of interests. Most of my students are focused on symphony orchestra careers, but some are contemporary music specialists, and a few are jazz players. One of my students has even become a very well-known rock and roll electric bass player. And my feeling is: if you can make a success in music doing anything, good for you.

— Here’s another tricky one for you: which style of music feels the most natural on the double bass, and which piece has been the most exciting or surprising for you to play?

At least in terms of pieces written for me, certainly the Menotti concerto. And I felt very comfortable doing it, even though it’s very, very challenging technically. And I’m thinking also that some other younger composers who wrote for me, the young African-American composer, Nabate Isles, wrote a jazz-derived piece for me not that long ago. But to be perfectly honest, these two works that I’ll be performing in Ukraine are going to be the best. And I know in both cases, Kolomiiets and Shved write quite differently. But I have a feeling that where the composers are coming from to write the complete piece is going to be very, very compelling. It is absolutely going to draw people in to their voice rather than only show off me, the soloist.

— You’ve mentioned your experience in teaching, you’re connected with the Eastman School of Music. Could you share what’s specific or unique about learning to play the double bass? It’s such an interesting instrument, and here in Ukraine, we don’t have many double bass players in our music academies.

At Eastman, I currently have 18 students, though usually I have around 20 or 21. It’s considered a place where students can get a complete but also diverse musical training, if they want it. Given how the music scene has evolved in the U.S. in recent years — and how it may continue to change — I think it’s crucial to train students to play at the highest possible technical and musical level, but also to expose them to a variety of musical styles. The fundamentals are always the same: you have to play with great intonation, with ease and facility, with physical awareness, with good ears. You have to be physically complete and efficient, so that playing feels natural rather than a struggle.

I emphasize all of that. And then, at a certain point, for these younger musicians, the goal is to launch them into the kind of career they choose. I can’t predict what careers will look like in 30 years.

I have students now who are in their 50s and 60s — I taught them when they were in their 20s. It’s been a long journey for them.

That experience has given me a broader perspective: not just how people can succeed in music, but how they can be happy in music. And if you can do both — succeed and be happy — that’s even better.

— As you said about the variety of things, I recalled that many double bassists are also the composers. Do you write music?

No, I don’t. That’s why my commission pieces exist. Besides, Shved and Kolomiiets are truly complete musicians. I may do some other things well — but I don’t write music. And that’s fine.

I love listening to all sorts of music; I always have. I come from a musical family — one of my sisters and her husband taught piano at Northwestern University — so growing up, I was surrounded by music, from rock and roll to opera, all the time. Hearing so much music from an early age made me realize something: I probably missed that opportunity, the path to being a composer — and that’s perfectly fine. I have no problem recognizing and admiring when someone else has the extraordinary gift to create something truly incredible.

I can imagine what a composer might write. I can show them my “vocabulary” — meaning, what I can do on the instrument — and invite them: “Use it however you want for your message.” But putting it all together myself? Writing it? No, it just hasn’t happened.

— You said that you’re from a musical family. And also I’ve read the interesting fact, if I’m right, that you started playing as a bass at 14. Have you played some instrument before or how did it start?

No, I didn’t. But I heard music from the time I was, you know, a baby. My sister, who practiced piano six hours a day when I was born, was also my babysitter — she just stuck me under the piano. So I heard everything from the very beginning. I went to concerts all the time as a kid — fascinating concerts. My brother-in-law was primarily a vocal accompanist and played for many of the major opera stars of the 1950s and 60s. Because of that, my parents often took me to their concerts. I didn’t always like it at the time, but I heard it — and I heard a lot. So I grew up surrounded by music.

When I began playing at 14, I had a wonderful teacher, and I just completely fell in love with the instrument — and with music itself. It all came at exactly the right time for me. It was a different path than most people would take today — usually, you would start formal lessons at a much earlier age, which I would also recommend. But for me, it worked out. No complaints.

— Here in Ukraine we start like with a violin at five or six years.

Well, when I began playing, there were also not small-sized basses. We do have those now, but I was the same height at 14 that I am now. So I can also say that once I started playing, I never grew up. It stunted my growth. But, you know, it’s all right. It was just a completely different path to performing on an instrument.

— It may be difficult to travel with the bass as well.

This is a challenge, especially getting to Ukraine now with a bass. So what I’m planning to do is borrow an instrument. I’ll probably borrow one in Lviv and another in Kyiv. I have a kind of network of friends, and we’ve already talked about what I might be able to use.

That’s the current plan. Even traveling within the United States with a bass can be a challenge — but getting it to Poland, crossing the border, dealing with customs, and managing this huge, gigantic trunk… it would be infinitely easier to just spend a day learning someone else’s instrument and go from there.

— We often ask this question to foreigners who visit Ukraine. Given the current situation, was it a difficult decision for you to come here?

Well, there are moments in time when all of us have to stand up for freedom, democracy, and justice. This is the moment. And I don’t want to just stand on the sidelines and watch. I want to do something. And again, like I said at the beginning, I have a debt to the Ukrainian people. They looked after me when I was a kid. Now it’s my turn.

So, Slava Ukraini.

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