Why Some People Stick

David Rucker

As of this writing, Mstislav Rostropovich is not doing very well. Having recently been released from a Moscow hospital with an undisclosed, serious ailment, he is reported to be recovering in a sanatorium outside the Russian capital.

But his manager has said, “It doesn’t look good.”

“Slava” Rostropovich is a true hero to much of the world. That includes the United States, and, yes, me. He and his wife have long since established a foundation to address children’s health issues. He has not been one to sit back and simply enjoy his reputation as a cello virtuoso and orchestra conductor. When he takes to the instrument or the podium, Slava is positively passionate about sharing his soul with the audience.

As the 80’s were beginning to wind down, I was toiling at a radio news anchor desk, passionate about getting out the truth against multiple deadlines. It was rapid-fire multi-tasking at its finest and worst, and the phone rang yet one more time.

This call was out of the ordinary, and it elevated my passion. A performing arts publicist was on the other end, telling me that Mstislav Rostropovich was in town with the National Symphony Orchestra, and was set to hold a news conference at the airport later in the morning. I handed the “keys” to a co-worker, grabbed my briefcast and took off.

The Maestro had left the Soviet Union for a concert tour not many years before, knowing full well that when he passed through the gate, his Soviet citizenship would be revoked. He had been harboring Soviet dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn in his own home. Just prior to leaving home, he visited Dmitri Shostokovich, his long time teacher and close friend to tell him of his plan. Shostokovich replied, “In whose arms shall I die now?”

Slava understood Shostokovich’s personality and music better than anyone. Knowing he could not go home, it was not long before he secured the National Symphony Orchestra podium in Washington, D.C. and held it for a long time. He is still listed there as Conductor Laureate.

At the airport in Oklahoma City, Slava held a very small, chocolate-brown dog in a leather pouch as we spoke. I was the only media guy to show up for the press conference. The dog’s name was Mocha, and it repeatedly whimpered during the interview. It was hilarious with Slava telling Mocha to be quiet three times. The third admonishment was in Russian, and Mocha finally shut up.

The Maestro’s manner and voice were at once firm and gentle. It was quite apparently he had never met a stranger. The only time his face and voice grew firm and determined was when he said, “I have not asked to return home!”

That evening he took the podium of his orchestra at the Civic Center Music Hall. The place was packed, and he won over every heart with a performance of Symphony No. 5 by Dmitri Shostokovich. I had heard the piece previously, read much of the score in a college library and heard a brief lecture about it. There’s much more to be said about that, but suffice it to say I had never really heard that symphony until that evening. Many of us wept. The ovation was not merely standing. A lot of us were jumping up and down as though we were attending the “Final Four.”

I am far over word count. Thank you for continuous good feedback about our radio program. Please pray for Maestro Mstislav Rostropovich.

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