And yes, charity is great—but these days, we’re seeing that break down. Boards are making cuts, and in some cases, shutting things down entirely.
Moving toward greater exposure and expanded audiences requires more than goodwill; it requires investment in a vision. And that’s something to consider while there’s still a foundation left to build on.
Imagine lots of fun programming and shows geared toward the youth and families: game shows, chamber music where the score is dramatized for the first-time listener, and more—all adding up to profits and a new status for classical music in culture. Relevance is the name of the game.
Until we let go of the idea of streaming only to the initiated, we’ll never see the kind of broad participation needed to reverse the trend of the incredibly shrinking niche. Right now, it’s just creating another religion—members only need attend.
In any case, international interest is high and getting higher every year, particularly in Asia.
Still, we can only dream of the kind of enthusiastic participation soccer inspires. Even having an audience somewhere between the Westminster Kennel Club Show and America’s Got Talent would be energizing to the field.
So, how do we get there from here?
What we have is a value problem. To begin with, there are two kinds of value that are somewhat in parallel: monetary value and cultural value. They aren’t the same, and this is something we need to address in looking at the issues surrounding the current state of things in the field.
With some exceptions, cultural value only really coincides with monetary value when we are talking about popular culture. The Beatles, for example, still today as a commodity rake in $50 million a year. That is generational wealth for the foreseeable future.
Where has all the historic support for classical music gone?
Let’s talk about recordings, which is one facet of the classical business ecosystem. There used to be a kind of goodwill tax paid by the major labels. They would take some of the funds earned from the astronomic pop music sales and invest them in classical recordings.
Just so that you know, classical music has always been the Cinderella to pop music, subsisting on hand-me-downs, while trying to maintain a seat at the table—despite being relegated to second-class status. The truth is, there is no fairy-tale prince; we are going to have to save ourselves.
Even with the modicum of interest in classical, it has some ability to almost pay off. Almost. The reality is classical represents less than 1% of the record business. It’s still a lot when you look at the whole. That 1% is equivalent to around $300 million in recorded music sales, streaming included.
In the record biz, that 1% is a true drop in the bucket. Someone is going to reap that. It’s not exactly chump change—it’s part of what feeds the classical music ecosystem.
Who exactly gets that income? A very small portion goes to a select few artists—the rest goes to feeding the machine. The machine, as industry insiders call it, refers to the labels—big and small, behemoths and indies alike. Feeding the machine means generating a steady output of releases to sustain the business model and keep the revenue flowing. Sometimes, it even shows up in the fine print: contracts that reduce the artist’s cut so the label can cover its own operational costs—like the electricity bill that keeps the lights on at its headquarters. That’s feeding the machine.
Imagine being part of one of the small classical labels working to support your machine, whose purpose is achieved through promoting classical artists. For these little labels, streaming has changed the equation entirely—many are hanging on for dear life.
Eventually Spotify will either cause these labels to implode or some monster machine will have to decide if they are worth gobbling up. Consolidation is the only way forward, ultimately, for many of these indie labels.
Promotion is the key to survival as well as success for most artists and labels. It’s essential for the individual artists and ensembles who depend on releases to stay relevant. And if anything, the artists are paying for their recordings, which is, in essence, shoring up the industry and keeping classical labels in business.
It’s a symbiotic relationship: the artists fund their projects through the label, which gives the artists a commercial brand, and the label promotes the artists, which gives the label some credence in the marketplace.
Almost anyone with the appropriate funding can have a release on a major label. It isn’t as exclusive as we are led to believe.
And why the business is suffering can be traced back to peer-to-peer sharing with Napster. The majors were too slow to respond when they had a window of opportunity to get in the game—they let the entire industry slip through their fingers.
Like a deer in the headlights, they watched as the whole thing dissolved before their eyes. The bonanza of income that they were used to was going away. They were living as if it was going to last forever.
The party was over.
The late great Sandy Pearlman advocated what he called the Five Cent solution. If the majors had listened, they would be a lot better off, but monoliths are not used to having to hotfoot it.
The trickle-down contribution to classical music by the major labels was not so much an investment as an homage to what the music business owes to its roots, a kind of tithing to the holy trinity of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart—not to mention the souls that, for the most part were the immigrants who fled Europe and brought their high artistry to the American cultural desert.
Artists touring in the mid-20th century traveled great distances, covering the metropoles of the world. They were internationally recognized stars. They performed fantastic live concerts that were often filled to the gills, there were live radio broadcasts, splashy newspaper and magazine coverage, and they attracted lots and lots of publicity, the kind we see today with major celebrities. These artists definitely got around. This is when record sales for classical were at their highest, making up 5% of the business. In today’s economy, that would be $1.5 billion—that’s a whole lot more simoleons than the current 1%.
This is back when Horowitz famously traveled with his own piano, major TV networks still had resident orchestras with conductors the likes of Toscanini, and a 24-year-old Glenn Gould became an overnight international sensation by playing Bach in Moscow. These iconic artists are still revered today for both their artistry and their role as trailblazers, with the immense popularity they generated.
These days, 95% of people—if not more—would not know anything related to classical music: not the name of a composer, a pianist, conductor, opera singer, or even what instruments are in the orchestra. We have entered the tundra of a failed integration of classical music into culture, and an education system that caters to the raising of future bureaucrats over creative thinkers. The closest we come to recognizing classical music is an edited version of The Overture to the Marriage of Figaro in a car commercial.
Is it cynical to suggest that we are kidding ourselves to think that classical music is actually valued up there with the rest of the fine arts?
Valued, yes, but not for the monetary returns. Of course there was the occasional classical hit and still is, but largely in the crossover world, and that is a different thing—a very different thing. Let’s be real about that. Sony was the early sellout to crossover. Was it for the survival of classical or was it about feeding the public something that was what we call accessible? Soon after, other major labels followed the irresistible marketing of this new genre. It’s all good and fine but classical it is not. Not really.
The question is going to be in the long run, who is going to pay to preserve the tradition?
COVID was and is a lesson in showing us how fragile the financial system is that is holding up classical music. The entire live music sector became a ghost audience. The German prime minister has talked about shutting down half (that is a lot!) of the radio orchestras there. These are some of the best jobs in orchestras, and yet there is only one master sponsor in Germany—the government.
This kind of talk should be setting off alarms all over the world. Just like in Birmingham, UK (remember, Sir Simon got his real start there before Berlin), they have looked at pulling 100% of the funding. It might be the first orchestra living off of what they can collect from playing on the street. They can change their name to the Birmingham Busking Orchestra, coming to a town square near you.
Why is there so much resistance to music education?
Starting from one end of the problem, we need to get a few things straight.
To begin with (and this is a big one): if your kids are learning classical music, it does not mean they will grow up to be poor. This is a perception problem—well most of this is, but starting from early education, this is a big one.
When you bring up the idea of music education, the first thing that happens is that people get very defensive and they think, “I don’t want my kid growing up to be a musician, struggling for survival.” And therefore, “I want to avoid music for my kid. I don’t want it taught to them—what do they really need that for anyway?”
Or if they do get lessons, the parents are constantly drumming into their kids that this is just for fun, and don’t go thinking you should or will ever pursue music as a profession. Then they paint the nightmare story of what the future will look like: you will live in poverty. Yes, this really happens.
Or, and this happens more often than not, “I want my kid to learn an instrument so that they can get into that Ivy League school.”
Let’s flip that on its head because it’s just the opposite.
It used to be that music was a part of education. Everyone knew music. It was part of learning science, math, and language—it was part of the whole person, part of being cultured. And folk music was integral. All music was live—imagine that! So there was something organic and natural about it—because it was! And it was very much present. You saw people play, and it stayed with you. Music was part of the physical world. The world we lived in.
Now it is so removed. An extension of technology. Just one more barrier to connecting with it organically.
Music as a language is itself a technology, and ultimately is being fully absorbed by technology. A true Borgian moment. (See Borg – Star Trek).
When we study music, it makes us better people. We learn to cooperate, be responsible, be on time—all the things you want for your kids that translate into self-respect, trust, and the ability to value themselves and those around them. These are all qualities of great people. And great people can do great things. That is the essence that needs to be communicated and promoted.
The idea is: learn classical music and speak a language that will take you around the world and be part of the international community that promotes the potential of a positive future for humanity.
Then we also have the ecosystem of classical music. It’s not only that we want people to learn music when they’re young so that they understand what it is, but those people end up being the sponsors, the audience, the patrons, and all the people who are involved in music—who work with musicians, backstage, onstage, and offstage—whatever it is, you interface with people in music and understand the importance and value of it. Classical music is so much more than just the musicians. It’s a vast infrastructure of people involved at every level.
With so many people not educated or enlightened to what classical music brings to the table, it has become this esoteric thing. Only people who participate in some way with classical music get it. It’s the problem, really, of art and culture in general.
We talk about this as an education issue. It really isn’t just one thing, and can’t be approached in only one way. For example, in terms of grade school education, what if instead of only learning about history in the context of governments and wars, we included how the arts existed around these events, thus incorporating something of cultural value in the humanities instead of the major emphasis being on religious, political, and territorial conflicts. As it stands, we are promoting an endless narrative focusing on the continuation of a world in conflict.
Classical music is a language that transcends the brutality of ignorance. Understanding the true value of the arts is a ticket to a better and hoped-for future world.
The process of re-evaluating the arts happens best in a community when everyone is a stakeholder in making culture not just a priority, but a valued thing—a thing that has value because we say it does, like some otherwise fictitious currency. If, for example crypto can attract so much perceived value because people have been made to believe that it is a real and worthwhile thing, then what about something with true meaning that can actually improve humanity? Are we able to put a price on that?
Back to the stadium idea: when Richard Rodzinski brought The Van Cliburn International Piano Competition online so that millions of people around the world could watch the competition, it became sport. It was so successful that when he left The Cliburn after 25 years, he went to Moscow to bring The International Tchaikovsky Competition into the modern world of sport-TV. Of course, currently that is a null subject there, but look, there are ways to create relevance without losing the sacred purity.
Unless something changes, we are, I think, destined to have this all end up in a museum. The preservationists have been doing this for years. For example, at the Bachhaus in Eisenach, they have a room with a wall-sized projection of a filmed live performance—one with dancers prancing across the wall to the Art of Fugue, seemingly in the room with the viewers. Another film with chorus and orchestra rehearsing a section from the Bach Christmas Oratorio, and we don’t just have a front row seat; we are standing there in the room with them. The experience feels a little like a Star Trek-style Holodeck.
Of course, we don’t want this to be the norm, and looking away won’t help. We need to create new ways of reaching people. As in most things, it is only partly a perception problem.
We can try by any and all means to bring audiences in and preserve the live experience, but at the same time, we are losing ground every day.
I’m not trying to be a doomsayer. I think we need to embrace the future of the experience, which is the way to preserve the art. Even the Mona Lisa sits behind thick plexiglass. It’s at once preserved and appreciated by millions.
It’s also true that we have to find new ways of presenting and telling the story. Innovation in presentation. Whatever works to assist in the accessibility of the work without diluting the work itself. An example of this would be Music:Eyes.
But we are here to talk pianos.
Did someone say pianos? Yes, pianos.
The guy to talk to is Danijel Gašparović, the Croatian mastermind behind a kaleidoscope of organizations that support and promote classical music, pianos, pianism, and piano history. He’s still creating new ways to build awareness for the art, but more than that, he is a model of all that is good in the music business.
Let’s see what he’s been up to…
Kathy Geisler Can you clue us in on how this massive organization got started? Where did it all begin?
Danijel Gašparović Starting when I was secondary school age, I went to gymnasium to study all aspects of life besides music, and I also went to music school.
I went to two schools at the same time. While other kids had half their day for things like resting, playing, or whatever, I had another school to go to. And on top of that, I had to practice piano.
I learned about discipline, time management, and responsibility—all of which influenced every other aspect of my life going forward.
After finishing both high schools, I enrolled at the Music Academy in Zagreb, in the class of my father. This was for the first four years of my studies. After I graduated, I went to Hungary—to Pécs and Budapest—to study with a great pianist and professor, Csaba Király, who had been a student of Zoltán Kocsis.
I received a master’s degree in piano performance from the Zagreb Academy. By the age of 18, I was already organizing concerts. I was one of the main organizers of a concert series called Virtuoso, which was a student concert series. We always had a full house, and through this I learned all about concert organization.
In my early twenties, I worked several jobs. I taught piano at one of the pre-college conservatories, worked as a concert organizer, taught privately, and by 2014, I opened a non-profit artistic organization called Cristoforium, dedicated to organizing a series of concerts, festivals, competitions, and other activities.
My father started a piano collection the year I was born. The first instrument was a Pleyel. Soon after, it was five pianos. The first one he didn’t need for anything in particular—it was really just for his pleasure—but it led to the development of a collection that is now known as Gašparović’s Piano Collection. It started with 13 pianos. Now it’s up to 46 or 47 pianos, depending.
While there are huge differences between pianism, pedagogy, and organizing concerts, they all came together for me. It began with a passion for the instrument and then became a passion for all the other aspects of music. This personal quest naturally evolved, much like the development of the piano itself—expanding from playing to encompass all the other aspects of music. In my own life, I see a reflection of how the piano’s evolution mirrors my journey: just as the instrument grew and expanded, so did my interest.
I came to see that the history of music for piano can be mapped across the development of the instrument. This makes for a really interesting story—one that is all about pianos, specifically the development of the golden age of pianos, which primarily occurred during the time of Beethoven.
Through this connection—which exists in all aspects of the piano—I naturally began giving presentations to national and international audiences on the story of the piano and its development.
Besides being a performer, both as a soloist with chamber groups and with orchestras, the real door to the piano world opened for me through my father, who has always been an inspiration.
In 2015, I opened my company, Cristoforium Art. It started as an artist management service—primarily in promotion, concert organization, artistic advisory, and artistic direction—but it also included piano rentals, piano services, restorations, tunings, and more.
The most important part, artist management, was something completely undeveloped in Croatia. I had the first company in the country dedicated to artist management. I realized there was a need for it, and it was something I was very interested in. Shortly after I opened my company, I connected with many artist management agencies, festival organizers, and others in the field.
I sort of jumped into this whole new world—one that didn’t exist at all in Croatia.
Then, step by step, I was able to develop things further. Through the artistic organization, I now run four concert series: a chamber series, concerts on historical pianos from our collection, a piano series, and another chamber series in the city of Rijeka. I’m also involved in other cultural events through this organization, as well as through Cristoforium Art.
Then there’s the festival, called Festival Dani Josipa Kašmana (Days of Joseph Kashman).
KG The only thing you’re not doing, as far as I can tell, is recording.
DG During the corona period, we live-streamed concerts and created a recording from them. I actually have a CD that my company produced. It’s called Chopin Alive, recorded live from an all-Chopin recital by Aljoša Jurinić at the Croatian Music Institute in Zagreb. It was recorded eight days after he returned from the finals of the Chopin Competition in Warsaw in 2015. He was the only Croatian pianist ever to make it to the finals of the Chopin Competition—including Ivo Pogorelich, who didn’t pass to the finals. So, you could say that we have, in fact, started our own imprint for recording.
KG When Pogorelich comes to Croatia, does he choose pianos from your collection?
DG No, because when he plays in Zagreb, he performs only in our main hall, Vatroslav Lisinski Concert Hall, where they have a Steinway D—and that’s it. So, he plays only on the piano that’s in their hall.
KG Do you handle the servicing for that?
DG No, we don’t do this anymore. My father was very, very active in this part of the business, but we are no longer involved. We used to handle the piano servicing for the entire Croatian National Institute of Music, which is a fine music hall here in Zagreb. It’s the oldest hall in Croatia—the place where musical life began in Zagreb and across the country 200 years ago. In 2027, we will celebrate its bicentennial.
It’s currently under reconstruction—the whole building, the hall, everything is undergoing major restoration because we had two big earthquakes a few years ago, which damaged the entire center of the city. So now, all the important buildings are under renovation and reconstruction.
KG You’ve been running the management company. How’s that going? Are most of the artists you represent from Croatia?
DG No, actually, only two of the artists have been local. I’m very, very excited because now I have some really fantastic artists. They’ve all given me their trust, and we work great together. I also represent some international artists, such as Julian Rachlin.
KG Wow.
DG Yes, he’s one of the biggest names in the musical world—as both a violinist and a conductor.
KG He’s fantastic.
DG Yes, he is both conducting and playing. He’s a star artist, and I represent him for Southeastern Europe. I also represent Andrey Gugnin for most of Europe. In addition, I’ve added to my roster the Janoska Ensemble, Barry Douglas, Elisey Mishin, and the guitarist Miloš.
Usually, I represent artists either in a region (the wider Balkan region plus neighboring European countries), in Europe, or worldwide—not only in Croatia. I represent Roman Simovic for general management; he is the concertmaster and leader of the London Symphony Orchestra. I also represent Boris Andrianov, one of the biggest names in the cello world.
KG How is it all going?
DG One great and important thing happened recently: Cristoforium Art became the first full member of IAMA from Croatia since its founding. The International Artist Managers’ Association is the most important artist management network in the world. It was founded in London in 1954, so being accepted was a really nice recognition.
When I went to Vienna for the IAMA conference, I met a lot of new people, and as a result, I will represent Sinfonia Rotterdam. They’re fantastic—the conductor is Conrad van Alphen.
KG How many people are working with you on this? I can’t even imagine what your life is like.
DG Yes, as you can imagine, I don’t get a lot of sleep. I work a lot—that’s how it goes. I have the artistic organization, and I have interns. I have people who work with me and for the company. Of course, I have accountants and lawyers—all the necessary professionals—and I’m constantly networking for all of my clients.
In this area of business, smaller companies are often better networkers. The service I provide is tailor-made for each artist. I also collaborate with major management agencies for certain artists. For example, I work with the world-famous guitarist Miloš. He’s with Enticott Music Management, in association with IMG Artists, but we also work together with his management team. I’m his local manager, and he’ll be performing here in Zagreb and more during the upcoming season. So, I think networking, good conversations, and collaboration are key to running a successful agency.
KG Can you give an example of how that collaboration works?
DG I work with local agencies in Spain and Portugal, and because I need someone who knows the language, we depend on each other. It’s the same with local agents in Italy and Asia—this is how we all work together. As for Australia, it’s a completely different mindset and way of doing business. So, it’s really important to cooperate and maintain all these local agency contacts. We have a network that weaves in and out of the major management agencies.
Local agencies know how to put things together and understand all the logistics to make everything work. It’s one big symbiotic system.
KG Being in the region of Southeastern Europe—the Balkans—what does that look like for the business?
DG We are talking about Slavic countries, including Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro, Slovenia, and also Albania, Macedonia, Romania, Bulgaria, Slovakia, and the Czech Republic—this is primarily where I work.
This region represents a vast number of orchestras, festivals, and presenters of many kinds, including theaters and concert series.
For artist agencies, the orchestras of Southeastern Europe are a kind of enigma. Most of what I hear is that it’s a poor part of Europe, but that simply isn’t true. There are established cultural centers in this part of Europe, and like the rest of the world, they present all the major artists, orchestras, chamber groups—everyone comes through here.
Also, there are some really fantastic festivals. For example, in Slovenia, there is one of the best festivals in this part of Europe: the Ljubljana Festival, which is more than 70 years old. There’s the Dubrovnik Summer Festival, the Ohrid Festival in Macedonia—all of these festivals have been running for more than 50 years, and all of them are prominent, important national events.
This region has so many orchestras, concert organizers, and many other festivals. So really, this is not just a potential area for classical music; it’s already embedded in the culture, and the audiences are very enthusiastic.
KG What about Hungary?
DG I have been working with Hungary for years. Now, I have a fantastic collaboration with the biggest festival there: the György Cziffra Festival, which was started by János Balázs, a famous Hungarian pianist. He has performed here in Zagreb several times at my invitation, in my concert series. We also collaborate with his festival and do a lot of joint ventures with the Cziffra Festival. There are other projects we have been creating and cooperating on with Hungary, which is our friend and neighbor.
Hungary is a very prominent old European center for culture. Budapest was the main center of the Hungarian part of the Empire. They have historically developed amazing halls and orchestras, and they cherish their culture very highly. They host many concerts, exhibitions, and more. It’s one of the most serious places for historical instruments, particularly historical pianos.
I’m involved with the Liszt Institute in Zagreb at the Hungarian Cultural Center. With the historical pianos, I present a concert called Nights with Brahms. We have the same model of piano as Brahms: a unique J. B. Streicher from 1868—the exact same model Brahms had until he died.
Our piano is special, since it belonged to the famous noble family Vranyczany from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It even has the signature of Baroness Anna Vranyczany inside the piano.
The program is always all Brahms—works for piano solo, duo, and lied. The pieces are presented together with the story about Brahms, his piano, and more. Our piano is just a few serial numbers away from Brahms’ original piano.
As part of the program, I perform solo works, then join my father for four-hand arrangements of the Hungarian Dances, and finally accompany singers in lieder—all on this piano. This is presented at the Liszt Institute in Zagreb, which, of course, is very connected with Hungarians.
KG That’s fantastic. Wow!
DG Thank you.
KG The thing I found when I was in Budapest was that nearly every person I met had sung in a choir at some point in their life.
DG Yes, it’s very important there, and even here in Croatia, it’s very important. We have many different types of choirs, and singing is a very, very important part of music education here. For example, in Dalmatia, there is a tradition we call Klapa singing. It’s unique to the central part of Croatia. We also have traditional choirs. Historically, we’ve had many different choirs, but there has always been a lot of singing—choirs of many kinds. So yes, it’s very much a part of the culture here in Croatia.
KG What about youth orchestras in Croatia?
DG Unfortunately, no, there are not many youth orchestras here in Croatia. But I hope this will develop further, because it’s a pity that we don’t have more of them. We have an orchestra for academy projects, and we have one small youth orchestra here in Zagreb.
I think it’s a mistake, because performing in a youth orchestra is one of the greatest experiences for young musicians. You know, when you have a youth orchestra, you travel a lot and gain experiences that stay with you for the rest of your life—how to tour, how to play, how to have a great time with your new friends. Everything. Unfortunately, we do not have many youth orchestras in Croatia, and I think that’s a pity.
KG Maybe the thing to do would be to bring them to one of the festivals and let them get known.
DG I’m involved as an artistic advisor with many festivals, as well as in artistic planning and collaboration. From time to time, there’s an opportunity to bring an orchestra, but it’s a one-time thing, so it doesn’t really create any lasting support for an organization like a youth orchestra. They need structure. Without structure, they have no way to continue.
KG What age group are we talking about?
DG Youth orchestras are composed of students from conservatories and academies, ranging in age from their late teens to early 20s.
KG For example, is this the same age group they use at Verbier, or is it older?
DG Older—graduates from conservatory.
As for Verbier, it’s one of the top festivals, offering a bit of everything: a fantastic structure, real funding, a great reputation, and a renowned name. With its location in Switzerland, they can do practically anything.
KG Yes, and Martin T:son Engstroem, the director of Verbier, also started a festival in Riga. While that’s very much to the north, it’s still part of what we think of as Eastern Europe.
DG Yes, the Riga Jūrmala Music Festival. It’s also in a country setting. It’s possible to have these big central festivals that are part of the core of a country’s art scene. For example, in Bulgaria, they present name artists with the Bulgarian National Orchestra in Sofia, which is their main orchestra. In Romania, they have the Enescu Festival, the country’s biggest festival.
These are examples, but it’s true for each of these countries that there is one large festival capable of delivering high-profile artists and hosting major presentations—large halls or outdoor venues, orchestras, and large audiences. The Riga festival falls into this category.
KG When Engstroem went to do something in Riga, was he competing with something that was already there? Did he just say to himself, “Okay, there’s nothing really big happening there, and I’m going to be it”—or—“I’m going to come in and do it”? Or did he take over something that was already there?
DG I think it’s that he has the complete structure—how he’ll do it, where he can easily do it, and with what resources he has. It’s all structured beforehand. I think when he goes somewhere, everything is already done. He knows what the result will be.
KG But weren’t there already things in Riga that he displaced?
DG I don’t know if what was there was so big—certainly nothing compared to what was in Switzerland. On the other hand, does anyone have something like Verbier? So he brought something you could say was imported: the complete production.
KG And what is going on with your festival?
DG Julian Rachlin will perform at my festival, Dani Josipa Kašmana (Days of Joseph Kashman). It’s on the island of Lošinj, where I have a house that has been in my family for five generations. It’s our family summer house, so I’m very connected to the festival and the island. I wanted to help develop something there.
I’ve been a partner of the other summer festival on the island for many years now. I played there, and my father played there during the first year of the festival. It has been in existence for some 40-odd years. This second festival—Dani Josipa Kašmana (Days of Joseph Kashman)—I now run as artistic and executive director. It’s dedicated to the baritone singer who was born there, on the island of Lošinj.
Joseph Kashman made his Metropolitan Opera debut in New York as Enrico in Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor on October 24, 1883. That was two days after the very first opera performed at the Met—Gounod’s Faust—on October 22, 1883. His debut at La Scala in Milan was five years earlier, in 1878, in Verdi’s Don Carlo. He was called Il Principe dei Baritoni (“The Prince of Baritones”). He was by far the biggest opera name among male singers that Croatia ever gave to the world.
And yet, not even the people from Lošinj knew about him. In Croatia, he’s not that well known. So, I wanted to make a cultural brand from his name.
During the festival, there are several concerts that allow us to tell his story. One is an opera gala concert under the stars—an open-air performance featuring well-known singers. The repertoire includes arias and quartets from the operas that made Joseph Kashman famous. We also incorporate a narrator.
Last year, I was the narrator for the concert and spoke to the audience about Joseph Kashman—why we chose the program, what his life was like, and more.
We also had a performance with Julian Rachlin on violin, Sarah McElravy on viola, and Boris Andrianov on cello, playing the Bach Goldberg Variations for string trio, arranged by Sitkovetsky. Andrey Gugnin performed a concert of Rachmaninoff’s Preludes, op. 32 and op. 23. This year, we also presented an opera gala concert with soloists from the Budapest National Opera House alongside Croatian opera soloists.
The plan is to establish the Joseph Kashman International Voice Competition. I want to develop the name Joseph Kashman—or Giuseppe Kashman, as the Italians used to call him—into a cultural brand for the island of Lošinj and for all of Croatia. It’s an important legacy for the country, one that has not yet been fully realized.
KG Where are these concerts held? Is there a hall there, or are they out in the open air?
DG The Opera Gala concert is open air, on a stage in the center of Lošinj. For the chamber concerts, we have a hall that seats about 400 people.
KG Is there an orchestra, or is it more chamber music-based?
DG In 2019, I had an orchestra, but not since COVID. We brought together the best musicians from the Zagreb Philharmonic, the Croatian National Radio and Television Symphony Orchestra, and the Croatian National Theatre Orchestra in Zagreb. It was a first-class symphony orchestra, but post-COVID it wasn’t possible for me to arrange for one. I hope I’ll be able to have it again next year. For the festival, it was called the Kashman Orchestra.
KG That all sounds wonderful. Naming the orchestra sounds very promising for the brand too. What else is on the island?
DG It’s a beautiful island, and it’s actually quite developed. They have top-tier hotels right on the beach, and there are five-star boutique hotels with restaurants that have Michelin stars. So, it’s really a fantastic place to visit.
KG Thank you for this incredible trip. I feel like I’ve been somewhere.
DG Thank you for inviting me to have this conversation with you.
I forgot to mention that I’ve also served on the jury of many competitions. I was on the jury of the RPM International Piano Competition in San Remo, Italy, and the Gothenburg International Piano Competition and Festival in Gothenburg, Sweden. I’ll be going to the Faro, Portugal, Piano Concerto Festival—it’s a wonderful festival. I’ll be there for eight days as a faculty member and jury member.
I’ve served on the jury for many competitions, including those in St. Petersburg, Russia; Spain; Santa Cecilia in Porto, Portugal—the oldest piano competition in the world; Slovenia; and many others.
After all these experiences, I’m now considering organizing an international piano competition here as well. I’ve always been interested in the structure of things, so when I’m on a jury, I observe how the competition works and how it’s produced—everything involved in putting it together at a high level. I’m thinking of the Chopin, Queen Elisabeth, and Leeds competitions—this is all very interesting to me. And it would be a natural thing to do, considering.
KG You’re officially the coolest person I know now. I love that you have this ever-expanding vision, where you’re constantly doing more and more. It’s an amazing quality—absolutely brilliant!
DG That’s it for now! M
