First things first: “Pausentöne” is an entertaining book. In his foreword, Milan Turkovic asks himself whether, against the background of
The current war in Ukraine means that such “sometimes casual and more casual texts have fallen out of time”. This can clearly be denied, as he always strikes a thoughtful note. We spoke to the author by telephone in Vienna
erreicht und sprachen mit ihm auch über die verbindende Kraft der Musik.
He is a gifted bassoonist and an internationally sought-after conductor and teacher. He was principal bassoonist with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra and the legendary Concentus Musicus, a founding member of the Ensemble Wien-Berlin - and he has enjoyed a panoramic view of eventful decades: Milan Turković.
He lets us share in his successes and disappointments and brings us wonderful anecdotes from all decades, but what he writes about his fellow human beings and fellow artists is never voyeuristic or revealing, but Milan Turković once again proves himself to be a comprehensively educated, distinguished and, above all, people-oriented observer.
So this book is a life and family story AND, of course, a highly interesting piece of music history, but above all it is a book that is a great pleasure and a pleasure to read.
Amiability and charm, the much-quoted “Grant”, arrogant aloofness and fun-filled communication rituals: Milan Turković, born in Zagreb, with ancestors from Vienna, Westphalia and Georgia, a “true Viennese”, observes his city with loving and critical dedication.
There are legendarily grumpy waiters - and coffee houses whose flair is unmatched anywhere in the world. A variety of linguistic nuances survive here, which the musician Milan Turković perceives with a particularly fine ear and characterizes excellently with a sharp pen. A cultural landscape blossoms here, offering music and theater enthusiasts a land of milk and honey. And here it can happen that a subway driver entertains passengers with eloquent poetry.
But Vienna also has construction sites that are a never-ending source of annoyance; bureaucratic hair-splitting that makes your hair stand on end; and a growing xenophobia that is becoming more and more aggressive. The book is a declaration of love to Vienna, but one that also dares to criticize: a delight for all those who want to rediscover the peculiarities of this city, regardless of whether they have always lived here or have only recently moved here.
How much practice do you do each day? What do you do in the event of a breakdown? What do agents do? And what do concert organizers do? This book answers these and many other questions that concert-goers often ask musicians. Milan Turkovic talks about the work of the orchestra, the mysterious aura of conductors, the praise and criticism of music critics, the tense relationship between music and politics and much more. A chapter is also devoted to the sometimes highly amusing subject of musicians on tour. The skillful mixture of amusing anecdotes, sharp observations and critical comments makes for delicious reading pleasure and provides inspiration for many cultivated conversations during breaks.
“I want everyone to play when they want to anyway, but I want everyone to want to play the same way,” says Nikolaus Harnoncourt, getting to the heart of a basic condition of musical collaboration. If you don't “meet” each other, the joint performance becomes impossible: Milan Turković knows from his everyday life as a musician that there are also rehearsals without a subsequent concert.
This and much more: for example, he discusses the pitfalls of lamp-lighting and uncontrolled fits of laughter (which can be extremely counterproductive, especially for wind players), the disruptive factor of concert coughing and its no less annoying counterpart, the noisy unwrapping of sweets, or dress codes: The tailcoat makes the music, of course only the serious one simply because it dresses the person, or as the shaking rhyme sums up: “In the tailcoat every wreck is smart.” And the musician's dexterity should ideally not be limited to being able to play his instrument properly, he should also be able to replace a forgotten tailcoat bow at any time with a craft made from paper handkerchiefs. Unforgettable scandals are just as much the subject of this book as cheerful or touching encounters with fellow artists, the increasing insensitivity of our ears to “fast food” sounds and the unbroken power of music.
Today, everything seems self-evident. Today, the classical music market is populated by hordes of original sound troupes, young musicians demonstrate sovereignty on old instruments and the term “Klangrede” has long since entered common parlance.
In 1953, when cellist Nikolaus Harnoncourt began a private artistic experiment together with his wife, violinist Alice, and a handful of interested colleagues, early music was terra incognita. The friends rehearsed in their living room for four years, researching sheet music and instruments, playing techniques and sound effects before venturing into the public domain. Insatiable curiosity, immeasurable diligence and inexhaustible dedication to an idea whose success was not foreseeable from the outset characterized the pioneering period in which the Concentus Musicus Wien formed itself into a style-defining ensemble. Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
This book brings to life five adventurous years in which a close-knit community of highly specialized musicians set new standards at every stage of their development and wrote the history of interpretation.
“I don't really know what was harder to find in our time: an instrument from the beginning of the eighteenth century that is good to play, or a player from the middle of the twentieth century who has the passion and quality for it.”
“I want everyone to play when they want to anyway, but I want everyone to want to play the same way,” says Nikolaus Harnoncourt, getting to the heart of a basic condition of musical collaboration. If you don't “meet” each other, the joint performance becomes impossible: Milan Turković knows from his everyday life as a musician that there are also rehearsals without a subsequent concert.
This and much more: for example, he discusses the pitfalls of lamp-lighting and uncontrolled fits of laughter (which can be extremely counterproductive, especially for wind players), the disruptive factor of concert coughing and its no less annoying counterpart, the noisy unwrapping of sweets, or dress codes: The tailcoat makes the music, of course only the serious one simply because it dresses the person, or as the shaking rhyme sums up: “In the tailcoat every wreck is smart.” And the musician's dexterity should ideally not be limited to being able to play his instrument properly, he should also be able to replace a forgotten tailcoat bow at any time with a craft made from paper handkerchiefs. Unforgettable scandals are just as much the subject of this book as cheerful or touching encounters with fellow artists, the increasing insensitivity of our ears to “fast food” sounds and the unbroken power of music.
© 2025 Milan Turkovic. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.