Juraj Tomka: Good evening, and welcome to this interview with the distinguished Slovak violinist and teacher Mikuláš Jelínek. I am very pleased to be having this conversation with you. We are connected by our love of music and of the violin, but also by several personal links. For example, our families were indirectly connected by Tomáš Baťa—my parents come from Partizánske, formerly known as Baťovany, and your parents also worked for Baťa in Kežmarok.
I greatly value the fact that we met years ago, when you used to attend Albrechtina concerts, and that I have also had the opportunity to read your books. I would especially like to draw the audience’s attention to the publications Journey to Oneself and On Music Pedagogy – Reflections of a Violinist-Teacher. The latter also includes an earlier interview we did together. I am glad that today we can continue that conversation and return to topics that are of interest to musicians and the wider public alike.
I would like to begin with your early years in Bratislava after your arrival from Brno, when you studied music theory with Eugen Suchoň. How do you remember that period?
Mikuláš Jelínek: Thank you for your kind words. I am also glad to have the opportunity to speak not only to musicians, but also to young people who are involved in music—as performers, teachers, chamber musicians, or orchestral players.
It is important for us to exchange experiences about how a musician should live and work in order to be fulfilled, and so that those for whom music exists—the listeners—may also find fulfillment in it. In my book on pedagogy, I often dealt with the problems every teacher encounters when working with pupils and students. I am glad we can talk about that today as well.
As for my beginnings: until the age of eighteen, I was not very fortunate in terms of systematic guidance. I did attend music school in Kežmarok, but later my parents moved to the Czech lands at a time when universities were closed and opportunities for study were very limited. After graduating from secondary school, I therefore came to Bratislava determined to find a way to fully develop my musical life there.
It had been clear from childhood that music would be my path. At the age of twelve, I gave my first full-length recital in Vyšné Ružbachy, so there was already some hope that I might become something in music. In Bratislava, I met Professor Eugen Suchoň, played for him, and he received me very warmly. He gave me a solid foundation in music theory and at the same time helped me enter practical musical life as quickly as possible. Thanks to that, I was admitted to the conservatory and was able to become a musician in Slovakia in the fullest sense.
JT: Who was your first great violin teacher in Bratislava?
MJ: I came under the guidance of a professor who was among the finest teachers at the conservatory and later at the Academy of Performing Arts as well. I became his student at the conservatory, and after several years I continued with the prospect of university-level studies ahead of me.
A decisive moment, however, was also my journey to Budapest. In 1946, I was in Prague at an international competition, and there I met the distinguished Hungarian violinist and pedagogue Ede Zathureczky. He heard me play and asked whether I would like to study in Budapest. Of course I accepted that opportunity. In 1947, I left for Budapest, and that became a very important period in my life.
JT: Besides Ede Zathureczky, was there anyone else in Budapest who had a strong influence on you?
MJ: Yes, Leo Weiner had a very strong influence on me. He taught chamber music. With him I gained a deeper understanding of style, collaboration, and chamber thinking. He taught me that even an excellent soloist must know how to listen, how to respond, and how to become part of a whole—in chamber music as well as in an orchestra. That is the kind of education that shapes a musician not only technically, but humanly as well.
JT: That is very important. Chamber music teaches a person not only how to play together, but also how to live together among musicians. It should also be mentioned that you were active in string quartets in Slovakia.
MJ: Yes, chamber music was always very important to me. I played in various ensembles and later took part in the founding of the New Slovak Quartet. It was an intense experience, because a quartet demands discipline, responsibility, and a high degree of mutual respect from every musician.
JT: Later, however, you also became strongly established as a soloist.
MJ: Yes. After graduating from the conservatory, I began performing more regularly as a soloist—first in Slovakia and later abroad as well. My collaboration with pianists was very important. I remember, for example, Soňa Kresáková, with whom I played for several years, and later Eva Martvoňová Fischerová, with whom I had an exceptionally strong artistic understanding. We toured together abroad as well—in Russia, in Asian countries, in Ukraine, and elsewhere.
JT: And with orchestra? What kind of repertoire did you choose?
MJ: After the founding of the Slovak Philharmonic, I had the opportunity to appear several times as its soloist. I was interested in repertoire that was not yet common in Slovakia at the time. I performed, for example, Khachaturian’s concerto, Shostakovich, Bartók’s Second Concerto, but also classical repertoire—Brahms, Mozart, and Dvořák.
JT: What is interesting is that you also devoted yourself to works by then-living composers. That may sound more natural today, but at the time it must have been pioneering.
MJ: Yes, it was pioneering, and it was not easy. I often had to prepare these works on my own, without the possibility of consulting someone who knew them well. On the other hand, it paid off, because thanks to that I became known more widely as a Slovak soloist.
JT: Then, however, a major turning point came—your departure from Czechoslovakia.
MJ: Yes. In 1965, my life changed fundamentally. For political reasons, I found myself in a situation where I could no longer work freely. I was supposed to go abroad to teach, but the state security authorities made it clear that this would only be possible at the price of cooperation, which I could not accept. That very evening, my first wife and I decided to leave. We made our way through Yugoslavia to the West, and that marked the beginning of the second stage of my life.
JT: And that stage was just as rich. You worked in Saarbrücken, in Stockholm, and eventually settled in Cologne.
MJ: Abroad, I was practically starting from scratch. I was already over forty, I had a family, and I knew I needed stability. So I tried the path of orchestral playing and concertmaster work. First, an opportunity opened up for me in Saarbrücken, and later in Stockholm, where Sergiu Celibidache was chief conductor. Those, too, were powerful experiences.
In the end, I settled in Cologne, where I spent many years—as an orchestral player and as a teacher. I was happy there, because I was able both to perform and to teach.
JT: That also relates to the subject of instruments. You played several important violins. Did your manner of playing change with the instrument?
MJ: Definitely. Every fine instrument requires a different kind of sensitivity. Old Italian violins in particular are very delicate, and the player must know how to work with them—not to force them, not to play them harshly, but to shape the tone with cultivation and breadth. The bow is also very important. I had very fine French bows, and they allowed me a more precise and cultivated command of tone. An instrument teaches you humility—you do not command it, you seek balance with it.
JT: In Cologne, you taught at the conservatory for many years. Pedagogy became one of the main lines of your life.
MJ: Yes. I taught in Cologne for about twenty years, and pedagogy became extremely important to me. I taught many students, and that work enriched me immensely. A teacher learns not only from his own teachers, but also from his students. Every student is different, and each requires a different approach.
JT: Among your students we find several distinguished personalities. And when you returned to Bratislava after 1989, you continued leading chamber music and doctoral studies at the Academy of Performing Arts. When you compare your various activities—solo playing, chamber music, orchestral playing, and teaching—which was closest to your heart?
MJ: Quite simply, I loved playing the violin most of all. It did not matter whether I was practicing an étude, playing in a quartet, in an orchestra, or as a soloist. Whenever I had the violin in my hands, I knew that was my life. It had been so since childhood, right up to old age, for as long as my health allowed it.
JT: Your work in ESTA—the European String Teachers Association—was also significant.
MJ: Yes, ESTA was very important to me. Ever since I left for the West, I began to devote myself more intensively not only to pedagogy, but also to broader professional and organizational life. I was active in ESTA from the 1970s onward, and later I became a member of its leadership during Yehudi Menuhin’s presidency. I had the opportunity to lecture at many congresses and to meet teachers from all over Europe.
When I was later able to return home, I wanted to bring those experiences back to Slovakia as well. To this day, I believe it is possible to build a strong and respected pedagogical environment here—one that will attract students from abroad too.
JT: I am glad that I, too, can continue your legacy and the ideas you promoted. Before we finish, let me ask about Danka Varinská. How did your collaboration begin?
MJ: After my return to Slovakia, I met several old friends from musical life again. When it became clear that I might begin performing here once more, I said that I needed a pianist. Danka Varinská was recommended to me. We agreed that we would first play together and see whether we understood each other musically. We tried Brahms’s Third Sonata in D minor, and immediately felt that the artistic understanding was there. That is how our collaboration began—and eventually our life together as well.
JT: And this year you are celebrating your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, so congratulations. Finally, let me ask: what message would you give to young music students?
MJ: I would tell them to preserve their love of music, but not to remain only at the level of dreams. It is not enough to love music—you must also truly live it and realize it in practice. Our profession is difficult. Without daily work, without patience, without a constant effort to discover new things, it cannot be pursued honestly.
At the same time, they should have understanding for the people around them and value the freedom they have today: the freedom to study, to travel, to meet other teachers, and to develop themselves. That is not something to be taken for granted. And if they have a goal, they must truly carry it through.
JT: That is a beautiful message to end with. Thank you for this interview, for your presence, and for all that you have passed on to generations of musicians. I believe your legacy will continue to inspire other students and teachers. And since this year you are celebrating your hundredth birthday, I wish you much health, peace, joy, and gratitude for everything you have achieved in life.
MJ: With God’s help. Thank you, and I wish you all the best.
JT: Thank you.
