There are festivals that announce themselves with great fanfare, and there are festivals that first put down roots in a city before filling it with music. The Orfeo Music Festival chose the latter path. For its twenty-second edition, it traded its familiar home in Sterzing/Vipiteno for historic Brixen/Bressanone, and already after the first concerts it became clear how natural that choice was. The baroque Kaisersaal of the Hofburg, the quiet spaces of the Priesterseminary, and the Parzivalsaal of the Vinzentinum were far more than mere décor—they were halls where chamber music found its place as a matter of course. The architecture didn't demand admiration; it invited listening.
Those who attended one of these concerts between July 8 and 14 encountered a festival that presented teachers, internationally renowned guest musicians, and students not as separate worlds, but as partners in one shared musical adventure. Rehearsals, lessons, and concerts flowed almost imperceptibly into one another. While a masterclass elsewhere easily remains a pedagogical exercise, here an artistic dialogue emerged in which experience and youthful enthusiasm continually strengthened each other. The focus wasn't on hierarchy, but on interaction.
This approach became perhaps clearest during the student recitals. They were far more than a supplement to the evening program. The concerts showed how artistic development takes shape in practice. For some, performing at the festival meant a first stage experience; others came forward with striking maturity. The audience was thus not merely a witness to finished performances, but also to a visible and audible growth process, in which listening, experimenting, and making music together were just as important as technical perfection.
The following concert reviews were written from the conviction that a review can be more than a chronological overview of performed works. They attempt not only to describe what was played, but especially how interpretations came into being, how musicians communicated with each other, and how ensembles developed over the course of the festival week. For this report, I attended both several evening concerts with teachers and guest musicians as well as recital moments by the students. Together, they sketch a representative picture of a festival where artistic quality, education, and encounter strengthen each other in a natural way.
Those who followed all the concerts from beginning to end also saw how gradually a clear red thread became visible. Technique proved rarely an end in itself, but a means to say something. Listening proved at least as important as speaking, both during lessons and on stage. Precisely herein lay the greatest strength of this first festival edition in Brixen: not only in the high level of performance, but especially in the way young musicians and experienced artists together created an environment in which artistic growth, collegiality, and musical pleasure continually strengthened each other.
July 8 – An Evening of Growth, Surprise, and Musical Collaboration
The first evening of the official concert series immediately confirmed the impression the festival had left from day one. The teachers brought a varied program in changing configurations in which not only the music, but also the pleasure of making music together took center stage. The concept of the evening concerts gives the teachers the opportunity to bring a broad and surprising repertoire, with different styles and configurations alternating with each other. The result is a program that is not only musically interesting, but also perfectly suited to the warm, informal atmosphere of a summer music festival.
The opening evening brought baroque, romanticism, and late-romantic lyricism together in a program where listening and collaboration were especially central. Perhaps some combinations of musicians still needed to grow into each other a bit more, but precisely that process made the evening compelling: as the different works unfolded, you felt the music develop and an ever greater naturalness emerge between the players. This gradual development also gave the evening a very human and pleasant dimension.
Alvaro Gomez, known especially as a violist, opened with the Chaconne in G minor by Tomaso Vitali (1663–1745). His interpretation had a natural breathing and warm musicality. Dena Kay Jones proved herself as an attentive and refined partner at the piano, always supportive and considerate. In the Sonata BWV 1037 by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750), a beautiful musical conversation then emerged between Routa Kroumovitch and Gomez, with Jones's piano part providing a natural third perspective that colored the whole. " That's why we make this friendly request: more singing from you please, with even a Pleiades of other notes on top. A pleasant surprise was Trio Jeng with works by Richard Strauss (1864–1949) and Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846–1916). Especially Tosti's "A vucchella" touched hearts through its simplicity, charm, and warm directness. While Strauss's piece demanded greater vocal control, refined diction, and more bravura, Tosti received a spontaneous and natural performance in which the intimacy of the song remained beautifully preserved. The soprano, together with Haroutune Bedelian and Lorna Griffitt, showed how powerful a simple musical line can be when brought with feeling and conviction. The great artistic moment of the evening came with Christian Bertoncello. For this South Tyrolean cellist, the performance had something of a homecoming, but also a strong artistic affirmation. In Sergei Rachmaninov's Sonata for Cello and Piano, op. 19 (1873–1943), he held the audience in his grip from beginning to end. His cello sounded with a particularly beautiful, ideal tone: warm, deep, and rich in color. The melancholy of the work was never exaggerated, but grew quietly into impressive expressive power. Lorna Griffitt followed him with great sensitivity at the piano and managed to convey both the transparency of chamber music and the full sound world of Rachmaninov. "Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka" by Johann Strauss II (1825–1899) and "Tico-Tico no fubá" by Zequinha de Abreu (1880–1935), performed by Anna Gliadkovskaya and Kirill Gliadkovsky at the piano, provided a delightful change of atmosphere. The pleasure of playing radiated from it, though the touch here and there could have been somewhat softer and more refined. The liveliness and spontaneity made these works more than an encore; they formed a cheerful conclusion to an evening where musical seriousness and relaxation went hand in hand. The unexpected exchange of seats during
A pleasant surprise was provided by Trio Jeng with works by Richard Strauss (1864–1949) and Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846–1916). Particularly Tosti's A vucchella succeeded in touching hearts through its simplicity, charm, and warm directness. Where Strauss's works demanded even greater vocal mastery, refined diction, and more bravura, Tosti received a spontaneous and natural interpretation in which the intimacy of the song was beautifully preserved. The soprano, together with Haroutune Bedelian and Lorna Griffitt, demonstrated how powerful a simple musical line can be when delivered with feeling and conviction. Tomorrow The evening's great artistic moment came with Christian Bertoncello. For this South Tyrolean cellist, the performance had something of a homecoming, but also a strong artistic affirmation. In the
Sonata for Cello and Piano, op. 19 by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873–1943), he kept the audience captivated from beginning to end. His cello resonated with a particularly beautiful, ideal tone: warm, deep, and rich in color. The melancholy of the work was never exaggerated but grew gradually into an impressive expressive force. Lorna Griffitt followed him with great sensitivity at the piano and managed to convey both the transparency of chamber music and the full sonorous world of Rachmaninov. Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka
The closing with by Johann Strauss II (1825–1899) and Tico-Tico no fubá by Zequinha de Abreu (1880–1935), performed by Anna Gliadkovskaya and Kirill Gliadkovsky at the piano, provided a delightful change of pace. The sheer joy of playing radiated from every note, though the touch could have been a bit softer and more refined in places. The liveliness and spontaneity made these works more than mere encores; they formed a cheerful conclusion to an evening where musical seriousness and relaxation went hand in hand. The unexpected seat change during Tico-Tico Sonatina added a playful moment to the mix.
Overall, this first evening offered a highly diverse program with something for everyone to discover. That's precisely what makes this concert series so perfect for a summer vacation: surprising encounters, beautiful music, and above all an atmosphere where musicians and audience can together enjoy the creation and experience of music. Here and there the refinement could grow a bit further, but that very prospect makes the upcoming concerts even more compelling. The warm, relaxed atmosphere and the visible pleasure in making music provided a particularly strong start to the festival.
July 10 – First Steps on Stage
This afternoon I started my festival day by attending the student recital, which is always one of the finest parts of a music festival for me. As a teacher, I know how much preparation, tension, and perseverance lie behind those first steps on a stage. For some, this was even their very first public performance, the festival organizers told me, which gave the afternoon an extra dimension. Beyond technical preparation, these performances also demanded the courage to be vulnerable and to share their music with an audience.
This gave each student the chance to tell their own musical story and to explore different styles and characters.
Anastasia Powell opened energetically with the sparkling Papillons by Aram Khachaturian (1903–1978), after which Amy Graham in Reflections in the Water by Claude Debussy (1862–1918) evoked a completely different sonic world. Henry Canning showed in the Mazurka in F minor, op. 63 no. 2 by Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849) and Debussy's Where identity becomes sound how lyrical expression and refinement can complement each other. His Debussy particularly impressed me and convinced from the very first note. Then Daniil Safin and Daria Powell provided a light and youthful touch with the playful piano pieces by Catherine Rollin (b.1952), with rhythmic clapping during the performance adding an extra playful effect. Their enthusiasm was contagious and underscored that making music should also radiate joy.
A particularly atmospheric moment followed with Isabella Calhoun, who together with pianist Howard Chen Grant me love from The Marriage of Figaro by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791) performed. Her warm voice came into its own beautifully and was carefully supported by her pianist. A particularly charming detail was that Trio Jeng had created a small staging of this aria together with Samuel Aldana. This brought the scene to life not only musically but also visually.
The recital was further enriched by Samuel Aldana himself, who performed the first movement of the Violin Concerto by Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847). Perhaps the intonation wasn't always entirely certain, but he clearly demonstrated his own vision of the work. Claire Tu proved herself to be a very reliable and responsive piano partner. The afternoon concluded with Daria Powell performing three movements from Rondo capriccioso by Robert Schumann (1810–1856), bringing the program to an elegant and characterful close.
As is to be expected at a student recital, not every performance was at the same artistic level yet. That doesn't need to be. Rather, it was the combination of first stage experiences, visibly growing confidence, and the willingness to be musically vulnerable that made this afternoon particularly valuable. As a teacher, during such a recital I don't only look at the end result, but especially at the growth process unfolding before your eyes. The attentive and warm audience gave the students all the room they needed. That's precisely what makes these recital moments an indispensable part of the festival.
July 10 – Virtuosity in the Service of Music
After a first festival evening where dialogue between musicians took center stage, the faculty concert titled "Romantic Fire and Virtuosity" emphasized individual artistic expression. Yet it became clear here too that virtuosity was never an end in itself. In the beautiful setting of the Kaisersaal – a historic hall where Mozart himself once performed during a stay in Brixen in 1769 – Romanticism had all the space it needed. Not as a demonstration of technical superiority, but as a search for color, character, imagination, and dramatic tension.
Moreover, it was a particularly challenging evening: the exceptionally high temperatures posed an additional trial, but seemed hardly to affect the musicians. From the very first notes, a varied and multifaceted program unfolded that remained engaging right to the last note. Each work received its own character, and again and again it became clear how many musical personalities came together here.
Anna Gliadkovskaya opened with Zapateado by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (1809–1847), a work that can easily buckle under its own brilliance. Yet she avoided any hint of superficial virtuosity. The lightness and elegance of the opening section remained completely intact, while the virtuosic passages were built naturally and with restraint. Her playing possessed clarity, refinement, and a great sense of style, which kept Mendelssohn's sophisticated compositional approach continuously audible.
Routa Kroumovitch then chose Études-tableaux by Pablo de Sarasate (1844–1908) for a completely different idiom. The Spanish dance rhythms received exactly the sharpness, energy, and fire the work demands, but her impressive left-hand technique and unerring bow control were never presented as a technical showdown. On the contrary: the difficulties seemed to dissolve entirely into musical pleasure and the natural flow of the music. Dena Kay Jones supported her with a piano part in which rhythmic precision and a remarkable sense of balance came together.
Scott Allan Cohen then presented Reminiscences of Norma by Franz Liszt (1811–1886), a monumental piano work in which the world of opera and the concert hall meet. He did not opt for mere outward grandeur, but let the melodies from Vincenzo Bellini's (1801–1835) opera ). A conductor with a perfect feeling for Verdi. Here he once again proves himself as a lyricist par excellence. He does indeed coax softness and melancholy from the Munich Radio Orchestra, and his precise rhythm contributes to the tension he creates in the arias, sometimes also through the right pause and moment of silence, for example in the aria from breathe beneath the rich, sometimes overwhelming pianistic textures of Liszt. This gave the performance a strong dramatic coherence and made the work more than a virtuosic tour de force. It was one of those moments when technical mastery coincided completely with musical imagination—a striking experience that left many in the audience with a genuine 'wow' impression.
Kirill Gliadkovsky concluded the first part with two Adagio con espressione from opus 39 by Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873–1943): no. 2, often associated with the unofficial nickname The Sea and the Seagulls, and no. 6, which is regularly linked with Little Red Riding Hooddue to its narrative character. These names do not come from Rachmaninoff himself, but they do help us understand the strongly evocative atmosphere of these works. Gliadkovsky did not seek outward effect or mere pianistic power, but rather the dark, almost orchestral sound world behind this music. The massive chords, complex figures, and dramatic arcs remained always connected to a larger musical narrative.
After this series of solo highlights, another strength of the festival became visible again: ensemble playing. The Beethoven's seriousness was approached with great concentration, the formal structure realized with alert liveliness; the Adagio breathed a restrained poetry in which Bruno Philippe fulfilled a supporting, almost vocal role, while the Scherzo and Finale unfolded with rhythmic sharpness and transparent interplay. Philippe's cello part gave the trio not only foundation but also direction: his phrasing determined the arcs of tension and lent the whole a convincing architecture., opus 9 no. 3, by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827) brought Routa Kroumovitch, Alvaro Gomez, and Christian Bertoncello together in a performance that excelled through homogeneity, refined communication, and mutual attentiveness. None of the three musicians tried to dominate the others; each phrase seemed to follow logically from what the other voices had contributed before.
Already in the opening section, the and Claire Dassesse stands in the spotlight at the beginning of the, the natural balance between energy and transparency was striking. Beethoven's dramatic power was convincingly conveyed without the performance becoming heavy or ponderous. The three voices retained their own character while simultaneously forming a cohesive musical whole in which tension and dialogue were continuously present. The lively exchange of motifs took on an almost conversational character: now one voice took the lead, then a subtle response emerged from the ensemble.
The friendly, sometimes even playful glances between the musicians showed a relaxed collaboration, but always with deep respect for the individual character and role of each voice. The Hélène Polka then gained a natural breath and warm expressiveness, while the Joke retained its playful edge without sounding sharp or over-emphasized. In the fast Final , the transparency of Beethoven's compositional style remained remarkably intact: complexity never became heaviness, but remained lively music.
The conclusion with excerpts from the Serenade for Strings by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) provided a fitting and elegant conclusion. With Haroutune Bedelian as second violinist, the ensemble achieved a warm, homogeneous string sound that revealed its finest colors especially in the Elegy The Waltz brought the evening to a refined close, in which melancholy and lightness remained in constant dialogue.
After this second evening, all musical expectations had been fully met. Where some reservation or doubt might have lingered after the previous concert, it disappeared entirely here. The technical conditions of the earlier performance in the seminary—with a less convincing piano—may have played a role in that, but in the Kaisersaal, the full quality of these musicians came across compellingly.
What ultimately made this evening so special was the combination of individual excellence and collective musicality. The warm applause was therefore directed not only at individual performances, but especially at the musical connection that ran through the entire concert like a golden thread: substantive virtuosity, personality without ego, and ensemble playing in which listening was as important as playing.
July 14 – Making music together as the final destination
The last day of a festival is always a special moment. Not only because a week of intense music-making comes to an end, but also because only then does it become truly apparent what such a week has achieved. During the student recital at the Priest Seminary, the focus was no longer on individual performances, but on making music together in varying ensembles. Where the first introductions were still audible at the beginning of the week, ensembles were now on stage that had built a remarkable musical unity in just a few days.
The program was as varied as the makeup of the ensembles. From Russian miniatures through baroque and classical chamber music to folk music, choral works, and romantic string literature: each performance was a new combination of styles and musicians. It was precisely this variety that made the recital engaging. No single work lasted long, but each offered a glimpse into a different facet of the festival.
Andrew Dixon and Henry Canning opened with the Italian Polka by Aleksandr Borodin (1833–1887) and the Reversing Reflections by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873–1943), two works in which playfulness, rhythmic sharpness, and mutual precision are paramount. Both pianists quickly found a natural balance. The humor remained light, while the more virtuosic passages never degenerated into a competition for volume or speed. Also striking was the effortless collegiality between the two musicians. In small gestures before and after the performance, it became visible how a more experienced participant supported a younger colleague—a simple, yet telling image of the atmosphere that characterizes the festival.
Peter Jackson then presented the Invention in A Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750). After the exuberance of the opening works, this was a moment of stillness, in which clear articulation and careful voice-leading gave the music full space. Then came a surprising change of style. Kaytie Kear brought her own composition Tchaikovsky and the Other Russians, which she sang and accompanied on the piano. The personal, contemporary tone of the work contrasted beautifully with The Lotus Flower by Clara Schumann (1819–1896), in which Isabella Calhoun delivered a sensitive and restrained interpretation.
With Red Rose and Dead Rose by Kurt Weill (1900–1950) completely changed the mood once again. Kaytie Kear and Isabella Calhoun gave the ironic text exactly the right dose of theatrical flair, without burdening the music with caricature. The Orfeo Festival Choristers supported them with enthusiasm and visible pleasure, while Vera Watson shaped the piano accompaniment smoothly and stylishly. Under the inspiring direction of Trio Jeng, a breezy intermezzo emerged that was visibly enjoyed by the audience.
Kevin Watson selected from Antonio Vivaldi's (1678–1741) The Four Seasons the middle movement of Summerwherein the hushed tension of the Adagio is abruptly shattered by the turbulence of the storm. After a somewhat cautious beginning, he gradually found greater ease and was able to play that contrast convincingly. Vera Watson proved to be an alert and sensitive partner here as well.
The recital then built organically on that interplay of instrumentation and styles. With the from Prokofiev's second violin sonata as an encore. from the Piano Trio in G, K. 564, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791), Samuel Aldana, Kristina Tu, and Tana Smith brought one of the most refined moments of the afternoon. The three musicians listened constantly to one another and created a naturally breathing performance in which no single voice tried to dominate. It is precisely in this apparent simplicity that Mozart demonstrates how difficult true balance can be.
Afterward, Howard Chen accompanied Isabella Calhoun in Love's Magic by Clara Schumann (1819–1896) and Liebesleid by Robert Schumann (1810–1856). His qualities as a pianist immediately came to the fore. He breathed with the singer, supported her with great sensitivity, and remained ever in service of the musical whole. Looking back, this recital was already a beautiful preview of the distinction he would receive later that evening.
Then followed a remarkable triptych for the Orfeo Festival Choir. Notably, instrumentalists also actively participated in the choral work, a fine illustration of the broad musical training the festival aspires to. Introduction et Rondo capriccioso by Louis Lavater (b. 1948), the Austrian national anthem On the Alma and the opening chorus from the The Symfonieorkest Vlaanderen, together with SOV Young and the Octopus Symphonic Choir, direct their gaze toward the universe on April 23 with by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710–1736) presented three entirely different sound worlds. Under the direction of Trio Jeng in the first two works and with accompaniment from an instrumental ensemble, composed of students and faculty under the direction of Alvaro Gomez, the Orfeo Festival Choir shifted effortlessly between folk music simplicity, contemporary choral sound, and religious restraint. Daniil Safin supported the whole with sober yet always sustaining piano accompaniment.
The concluding orchestral works made clear once more how much progress the participants had made during the week. The Elegy from the Serenade for Strings by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) sounded warm and homogeneous, with beautiful dynamic transitions and a broadly sustained melodic line. That it then shifted to Prelude and Gavotte from Five Pieces by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906–1975) underscored once again the stylistic versatility of the festival. Under the direction of Alvaro Gomez, the Orfeo Festival Ensemble maintained remarkable cohesion. Once again it became clear how naturally faculty and students make music together, while Vera Watson filled the piano part with discretion and a fine sense of ensemble.
What stood out most during this recital was not so much the individual level—which had been high all week—but rather the speed with which unfamiliar musicians had grown toward one another. In barely a week, an effortless collaboration emerged in which listening became more important than impressing. It was audible not only in the musical execution but also visible on stage: brief glances, a smile, a subtle breath, or a small movement sufficed to find one another. That trust gave the performances a natural liveliness that cannot be rehearsed into being.
Therein perhaps lies the greatest merit of the Orfeo Music Festival. Technique and talent form the starting point, but the ultimate destination is making music together. This student recital was perhaps the finest proof of that. It formed a worthy conclusion to a festival week in which young musicians not only grew artistically but also discovered how much music can gain when individual qualities merge into one collective musical voice.
July 14 – A Natural Crowning
A closing concert often carries the risk of being primarily a farewell: many performers, much applause, and a program that adds up rather than provides direction. The Orfeo Music Festival chose a different approach.
Following the presentation of the Cohen Family First Prize 2026—the first award of what will undoubtedly become a new festival tradition—to pianist Howard Chen came a musical thank you. With the Étude opus 10 no. 2 by Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849), he demonstrated not only impressive technical mastery but above all remarkable musical intelligence. As during the student recital earlier, his instinctive sense of phrasing and collaboration stood out. The distinction thus seemed well deserved. The Orfeo Music Festival aims to be a springboard for young talent. Howard Chen certainly gave the impression of a musician from whom we will undoubtedly hear more.
As a brief overture to the main program – Orfeo Grand Finale – Routa Kroumovitch and Alvaro Gomez performed the Sonata opus 3 no. 5 by Jean-Marie Leclair (1697–1764). Their interplay immediately stood out for its stylistic refinement and elegant articulation. The Baroque dialogue between the two violins was rendered with clarity and formed an elegant opening to a carefully constructed program.
Next, Routa Kroumovitch and Dena Kay Jones performed the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso, opus 28, by Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921), a work in which elegance and virtuosity continually vie for the upper hand. Kroumovitch allowed the restrained melancholy of the introduction to flow organically into the irresistible momentum of the rondo. Her playing remained remarkably transparent throughout; the virtuosity never seemed more important than the melodic line. Jones once again proved how naturally she adapts to her soloist. Her piano playing supported, colored, and responded without ever demanding attention.
The vocal section of the evening was anchored by Russian baritone Yury Kopyrin, who together with Dena Kay Jones presented a recital that moved between Italian bel canto and Russian Romanticism. His warm, robust baritone proved capable of effortlessly carrying various styles. That Kopyrin was only nineteen years old made his performance all the more remarkable. He possesses not only a notably mature voice but also a stage presence and interpretation that would suggest a far more experienced singer.
He opened with Virgin, All Love by Francesco Durante (1684–1755), in which he chose a restrained, almost meditative approach. He followed with Durante's well-known Dance, Dance, Gentle Maiden with a light elegance that allowed the character of the song to shine through completely.
The mood then shifted to Russian Romanticism with None but the Lonely Heart and I'd Like to Merge into a Single Word by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893). In particular, None but the Lonely Heart, subtly accompanied by the cello voice of Kristina Tu, formed an emotional highlight of the evening. The addition of the cello gave the song an extra melancholic depth, making the intimacy of the singing even more pronounced. Similarly, I am in Love with You by Aleksandr Dargomyzhsky (1813–1869) fit seamlessly into that line of refined expression.
As an instrumental intermezzo, Kirill Gliadkovsky delivered a compelling performance of the Prelude in C-sharp minor, opus 3 no. 2by Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873–1943). The work belongs among the most famous piano pieces in the repertoire and is performed so frequently that it can easily lose its element of surprise. Gliadkovsky, however, chose a controlled buildup of tension in which the monumental chords gradually developed without losing sight of the lyrical undercurrent. In this way, the prelude became not a standalone virtuosic moment, but a natural hinge point within the recital.
In the closing section of the song program, various European art song traditions were given space once more. Liebesleid by Robert Schumann (1810–1856) sounded warm and lyrical, while The Serenade and Magic Spell by Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846–1916) retained an elegant, almost salon-like charm without becoming superficial. With Forbidden Music by Stanislao Gastaldon (1861–1939) concluded Kopyrin's recital in a thoroughly convincing manner. Here too, he impressed less through vocal display than through his natural interpretive power, a quality that the audience clearly appreciated. With The Russian Woman from Fedora by Umberto Giordano (1867–1948) Kopyrin was finally given the opportunity to showcase his operatic qualities. Without abandoning the intimacy of the preceding song repertoire, he brought to the aria the dramatic tension and vocal allure it demands. Thus it formed a convincing conclusion to a recital in which musical expressiveness consistently remained more important than vocal showmanship.
What ultimately made this closing evening so convincing was not the breadth of the program, but the concentration with which every performance was delivered. The different styles – from Baroque through Romanticism to late-Romantic song – formed no loose succession, but an organic whole. In this way, this final concert also seamlessly aligned with the spirit of the festival: technical mastery was always in service of musical expression, and experienced teachers naturally found dialogue with young musicians.
The prolonged applause that closed the evening was not only for the performers of this closing concert, but for the entire festival week. Anyone who had followed the concerts from beginning to end had seen young musicians develop into convincing ensemble partners, guided by teachers who generously shared their experience while leaving room for their students' own musical personalities. In this way, this Grand Finale was not a spectacular endpoint, but the natural culmination of a week in which listening, ensemble playing, and musical curiosity had always been central.
Final thoughts
Over the five concerts I attended, the Orfeo Music Festival unfolded gradually as much more than a series of separate concerts. From the first notes in the Priest Seminary to the Grand Finale in the Kaisersaal, the festival revealed itself as one that excelled not through spectacle, but through the care with which programs, musicians, and venues were attuned to one another. The historic spaces of Brixen formed no mere decorative backdrop, but an essential part of the listening experience. Each hall gave the music its own character, without ever diverting attention from it.
What perhaps struck most throughout the entire week was the naturalness with which experienced musicians and young participants made music together. Teachers did not remain at a distance as unattainable models, but actively participated in the musical process, both on stage and beyond. Students, meanwhile, were given the space to take responsibility, take risks, and develop artistically. In this way, the distinction between lesson and concert, between education and performance, blurred. Listening proved to be at least as important as speaking.
That attitude formed the true thread running through the festival. Skill rarely remained an end in itself, but consistently served the music. Whether it was a solo recital, a song program, a chamber music ensemble, or a student orchestra: dialogue was always central. Precisely because of this, not only several exceptional performances remained memorable, but especially the image of a musical community in which experience, curiosity, and mutual trust continually reinforced one another.
The Alpine landscape around Brixen provided the setting; the musicians gave the festival its meaning. If this inaugural edition in Brixen is indicative of the future, then the Orfeo Music Festival has found not only a new venue, but also a new home. More than a series of successful concerts, this festival week demonstrated how music can bring together people from diverse backgrounds, ages, and experiences. Perhaps that is ultimately the greatest achievement of the Orfeo Music Festival.
