Do We Still Hear Music Whispering the Words of God?: An Interview with Cellist Henrik Dam Thomsen
BY HANA GUBENKO
From the Middle Ages to the French Revolution, music was one of the foundations of our culture, indeed, of our very lives. The understanding of music was part of a general education. Today, music has become simply an ornament used to embellish idle evenings with trips to the opera or to concerts, to evoke public festivity or even to banish or enliven the silence of domestic loneliness with sounds from the radio. A paradox has emerged: quantitatively, we have much more music today than ever before, almost uninterrupted music, but it is no longer very relevant to our lives. It has simply become a pretty adornment.
Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Music as Speech (1988)
The apostle John wrote these further lines: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” But in which language was the Word spoken? It most definitely occurred before the language split caused by the Tower of Babel, and thus the words were ones which every single creature would be able to perceive and understand. What language is it that reaches directly into the hearts of all of us earthly creatures? It is music! Music speaks, cries, and laughs; it flows far beyond the borders of our acquired preconceptions. Before we come into life, we hear melodies of voices out there and we feel, even before breathing on our own, the words of our parents; we hear noises, and they build up lullabies to accompany our life. Before we die, we might perhaps have lost our mind, our memories, and the ability to articulate in our spoken language; but we are still able to perceive melodies, we still can feel the speeches and intentions of our fellows and our loved ones in the shape of musical rhetoric. When hearing melodies, we return to our provenance in the Word which was at the beginning, to the Word which was God—to the word of music.
Why is J. S. Bach, despite being dead for 274 years, so efficient at making us feel alive? Is there some sorcery at work? Most probably it is due to his compositional craft; he studied theology as well as Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi and expressed these intellectual ideas in sound, capturing everything in notes on sheets of music paper. Well pointed and carefully placed, each note speaks for itself, while being in the perfect place in relation to all the other notes. The voices of his fugues are self-sufficient, yet in a perfect match to the other voices, enjoying independence as they build an overall unity.
A utopian model of human coexistence, or simply a way of picturing the order of Creation? It sounds like something real, honest, and free of doubts. There is a sense of listening to eternity, a concept not far away in space but right in front of our mortal ears. This why there is no question whether Bach’s music has to be recorded, played, and heard again, no matter how many times it has already been done, because eternal art is constantly being updated.
Danish Cellist Henrik Dam Thomsen brings six of Bach’s Solo Cello Suites on the market in August 2024 by the label OUR Recordings, mindfully and with the heart blood he proves that Bach’s music has been updated once again and that he has received the message properly, while being sincerely projecting it on the recording. He went the way up to the front and back and lets the cello talk in words of music, in words which have been once with God and have been God therefore most probably they have been words of music.

Henrik, I’m very pleased to welcome you to Fanfare! I know you’ve studied in Denmark, the United States, and London. In England there is a very self-contained cultural pool which is quite detached from continental approaches, yet on the other hand there is a sort of bridge in between (just think of Handel). Who is your favorite English composer?

I have played most of Benjamin Britten’s pieces for cello: the three solo suites (one is on my Chandos solo CD) and his Cello Symphony. I have always been very fascinated by his music and remember being introduced to his choral music as a child, since my father conducted an amateur choir for many years. The Elgar Concerto is also a favourite of mine. A wonderful piece to play and one the greatest cello concertos ever written. A friend of mine introduced me a new piece by Thomas Adès, “Lieux retrouvés,” which I find that very interesting.

In England there is a venerable tradition of sight-reading chamber music. How did you get along with that? Do you enjoy the sight-reading?

We don’t have the same strong tradition of sight-reading in Denmark as in the UK. I recall from my time in EUYO (the European Union Youth Orchestra) the British players being much stronger sight readers. I like to sight-read and I have become more and more happy to be introduced to music that I don’t know, playing on my regular job in the Danish National Symphony Orchestra. The first years in the orchestra I preferred it to be the other way around.

How did your move to the United States come about?

I received a grant from a Danish foundation to seek further education. My wife and I decided that we would go together. Since she had a connection to the violin professor Mauricio Fuks, and I was very keen on approaching Prof. János Starker, Indiana University was the perfect choice.

Studying with János Starker—how was that?

I spent eight months in Starker’s class in Bloomington. His approach to cello technique was extremely well organized, and he gave me a unique knowledge of Hungarian composers (Bartók, Kodály). It was a great experience to learn from this master of the cello. In only eight months he helped me in improving my technical skills. Cello playing was definitely a bit easier after I returned home.

What was the pivotal point while growing as an artist when you could definitely say that you had found yourself?

I don’t think you’re really supposed to find yourself as an artist. I find that the constant surging and learning is very important and actually the most interesting part.

The artistic path is a prickly one. Can you recall a point of despair, or conversely a point when you had the feeling that you were exactly where you’ve always longed to be? How often does it go up and down for you?

I never had doubts or major breakdowns as a musician. Music is my greatest friend and something I can’t live without. Having said that, I have occasionally struggled with nervousness during performing. Especially in my early student years. Performing to large crowds provides a great “rush” for us musicians, but I also really enjoy making music all by myself, which is also why I have a home studio in which I take refuge quite often. Being all alone with my instrument and a microphone is my musical getaway.
I’ve tried not to stay with a specific project or group for many years at the time. Especially when a great part of me is connected to orchestral playing. As much as I like my job, it is of great importance to seek completely different paths. By doing things this way, I seemed to have avoided any playing “crisis.”

The classical music industry isn’t in the best state right now, but nonetheless you are recording Bach. What is pushing you to move ahead, regardless of people’s interest in Bach’s music?

I have studied and played the Bach Suites for 40 years. I don’t think that this world necessarily needs more recordings of the Bach Suites, which I tried to tell myself many times. Still, it seems to be very important for me on a personal level. It feels important to create something that “stays.” I know this recording will be one out of too many, but on the other hand it might find an audience here and there. One of the positive things about streaming is the accessibility to everyone who has a smartphone. I have been thinking about doing this for many years and suddenly after lockdown and me turning 50, I felt ready. I’m extremely happy that a Danish foundation made it possible for me to make it happen.

What sort of future does classical music have in general? I’m thinking in particular of the COVID-19 pandemic’s impact on the classical music industry. What can be done to reawaken interest in the art of classical music among a larger audience? And young people?

I think that history has shown us that there’s a continuous need for classical music and music in general, as well as the need to listen to and watch artists live, so in that way I’m optimistic. What concerns me, though, is that film, television, and computer games use music made from Artificial Intelligence (AI). It’s scary that producers are fine with using music made that way, and we have not yet seen the consequences of that development in the music industry.

Thinking in particular of Bach, what can be done to motivate young people to listen to and purchase an album with Bach’s Suites for Solo Cello and, even more, repeatedly listen to it and share with one another like any other song by their favorite band or pop idol?

Children should be introduced to all musical genres in school, and some will definitely experience the genius of Bach and other composers as they did for hundreds of years. Also, musicians must be aware of the responsibility to pass the music on to next generations. This is a part of our musical life.

A few words on the historical approach to interpreting Bach’s music. How much do you value the rules of historically-informed performance and how much of freedom do you give yourself while playing Bach? Is there space to discover anything new within that framework?

It’s strange that the older the music is, the more “rules” for interpretation we seem to set up. I actually try to give myself maximum freedom when I play the Bach Suites, since even these masterpieces were ones “babies” and a result of Bach’s creative genius on a specific day in the 18th century. But I sincerely hope that my interpretation shows that I studied, listened, performed, and read about this music for thousands of hours before recording it.

Who are your very favorite Bach interpreters?

Anner Bylsma is a great inspiration. He’s playing in Baroque style and on Baroque instruments, but that’s not so important when he plays. Nor is his choice of bowings. But his sense of pulse, great intonation, and beautiful natural musicianship are what make such a big impact on me.

Pablo Casals is credited with bringing the Cello Suites back to life, on stage and into the recording studio. What is your impression of his complete recording—was it ever a source of inspiration for you?

Pablo Casals’s recording was the first recording I bought. There’s something very pure about the fact that it’s the first complete recording of the Suites. Furthermore, it gives me pleasure to know that the instrument that I play on (a Francesco Ruggieri from 1680) was brought to Denmark by Pablo Casals to a Danish student in the 1930s. I’m sure he played Bach on my cello while testing it.

Casals cared deeply about the “speaking” character of a string instrument’s playing; he said that it must speak like a human voice. Would you agree with him?

William Pleeth always asked me to sing a certain phrase, noticing which consonants I would instinctively use while singing. I would certainly agree with Casals. “Speaking” and “breathing” the music is crucial—no matter if you are a wind, brass, or string player.

How much value do you place on technical perfection in your playing?

I tell myself and others that technical perfection is not too important, but when it comes to my own playing, I’m actually quite picky about it.

You have participated in several film productions. Your collaboration with Lars von Trier is very intriguing. Please say a few words about it, and by the way what is your favorite movie by irreplaceable Lars von Trier?

I like to work as a studio musician and I’m proud to have had participated on four film scores for Lars von Triers films. I think the drama Melancholia is a true masterpiece. One of his latest, The House that Jack Built, is a kind of horror movie and I was specifically asked by Lars von Trier to create the sound of hell! That was a very interesting session, though I think I prefer playing the heavenly music of J. S. Bach.

And herewith we are right at the point of my literary Overture to this conversation. Therefore J. S. Bach’s work is nothing else but a Harmonices Mundi ad Aeternam! Many thanks for the conversation, and looking forward to having you back at Fanfare.