When the South Korean musician Hyunkun Cho performs Bach's six Cello Suites at the Korean Cultural Centre in Brussels, he brings together almost seventeen years of European experience with a musical path that began with listening to recordings of viola da gamba music. That is why we spoke with him about historical performance practice, the five-string cello, and why these suites are, for him, not really dance music.
From Korea to the baroque cello
"I started playing the cello because I love music; the cello is one of the instruments through which I express myself musically," Cho says. It is a distinction that is essential to him: he prefers to call himself a musician rather than a cellist or a historical performer. He enjoys playing baroque and historical music, but he also feels drawn to the classical repertoire. That attitude runs through his whole journey – from Korea, where no teachers of early music could be found, to Berlin, Barcelona and Geneva. In Berlin he learned historical performance practice through eighteenth-century treatises; in Barcelona – a "melting pot" of teachers from France, Argentina, Italy and Germany – he found greater freedom. There he also met Pedro Memelsdorf, not a cellist but someone who fundamentally changed the way he understood music: "Previously I played a bit on instinct, searching for what sounded or felt good. Afterwards I began to pay much more attention to what was actually written in the score: cadences, tonalities – everything that forms the musical structure."
Cho's discovery of early music came by way of a detour: his brother's CD collection, full of recordings of viola da gamba music. At fifteen he began playing the modern cello, with the aim of one day being able to play the gamba. When he eventually tried both the baroque cello and the gamba, he chose the cello: "The strength of early music is that historical knowledge gives the music a different colour. Early music holds many views, and you have to respect the grey, not just play in black and white. There is no single correct way to play early music." On the modern cello, the emphasis for him lay mainly on technique, with little room to learn to understand interpretation and musical structure – the baroque world is, for him, just the opposite. Even before he played the cello himself, Cho enjoyed counterpoint, fugues, and the difference between French and Italian baroque music: "Playing the baroque cello is not only about mastering the instrument; you also have to get to know the music itself."
Bach and the six suites
His first encounter with Bach's Suites was, as for so many, the recording by Pau Casals: "The prelude of the first Suite was simple and beautiful, and it gave me the feeling of being in heaven. I have never forgotten that first listening experience." As his knowledge of Bach's compositional structure grew, so did his awareness that there is always something to improve in each performance.
For Cho, the six suites do not form a homogeneous whole but six worlds, each with its own tonality and compositional technique. The prelude of the first Suite is built on regular arpeggios, while that of the second is entirely irregular – differences that are mainly visible in the score itself. Special attention goes to the Sixth Suite, which Cho prefers to play according to the manuscript of Anna Magdalena Bach, in which five strings (C, G, D, A, E) are explicitly indicated. He regularly plays the Suite on a five-string cello; sometimes he transposes it from D to G major in order to perform it on four strings. About the common practice of playing the Sixth Suite in its original key on a modern four-string cello, he has his doubts: "That becomes more technical, a bit like Paganini music. Bach used the five strings functionally, to achieve different resonances. With four strings that is not enough – it essentially kills all the resonance."
What Cho seeks beneath the notes is also what he sees as a hallmark of Bach's composing: constantly exploring the full possibilities of an instrument. "I think these suites opened up so many possibilities for expressing music in a functional way. There is not just one way to play them." Before he performs, Cho always analyses the compositions thoroughly – though he is rarely entirely satisfied with the result: "But that is exactly what makes me eager to keep learning and to go further with this masterpiece." Although the suites are built on dance forms – allemande, courante, sarabande, minuet, bourrée, gigue – he warns against too literal a reading: "These suites were not meant to be danced to. It was a trend of the time to adopt the dance structure, the rhythm and the tempo. But it is not dance music, so tempo and rhythm get more freedom."
One evening, six stations
A complete performance of all six suites – on a baroque cello without an endpin and with gut strings – demands the utmost physically and mentally. Yet Cho describes the process paradoxically: "The enjoyment blocks the pain; while playing all six suites I hardly feel tired, just as in practice. Only after the concert, as after a rehearsal, do I feel all the fatigue that such a concert demands of me."
He associates the evening with Biber, although he stresses that he has no historical evidence for this. With the Rosenkranz (Rosary) Mysteries in mind, he thinks of six stations, each with its own character, beginning and end. For him it is like a book with six chapters, of which you read four, then rest, and afterwards read the last two.
Performing alone on stage, without an orchestra or other musicians to respond to, he experiences as a form of meditation or prayer: "It teaches me not to believe in absolute truths, in right or wrong. It is challenging, and it is okay to make mistakes, because until my death I will always find something to improve, and such a performance brings me into a state of mind in which I realise how I can improve my next performance of the Six Suites." What remains after the Sixth Suite is for him a mixture of everything at once: "Exhaustion, relief... and it makes you feel alive. At the same time, you know that next time you will be better, because you take along everything you have experienced and learned on this six-part journey."
Between history and the listener
Historical information is for Cho not dogma, but a conversation between past and present: "Thirty years ago, many performers of early music played very differently than they do now. Music keeps moving with trends – not only with what we learn about the past, but also with how our contemporary musical instinct shapes our understanding of music composed three hundred years ago." Gut strings, he argues, are more sensitive than steel strings and allow a wider palette of colours; the baroque bow is "more analogue" – initially more difficult, but ultimately better suited to "speaking" musically. A beautiful sound alone is not enough for Bach: "We need more philosophy, more humanity – many domains that ultimately contribute to the sound we eventually achieve."
His many years with Bach have also changed his view of other music. He pays attention not only to the musical details, but above all to the attitude and intention behind a composition: "Bach was always sincere in his work, and it is our responsibility to try to understand his message – and that of other composers as well. It means that when we are working with scores, we are not merely meant to play everything correctly. We must think and imagine much more to see what lies beyond the written notes."
The concert took place at the Korean Cultural Centre in Brussels and brought together several layers of Cho's musical identity: his Korean background, almost seventeen years of living in Europe, and the music of Bach. After all these years, he realises above all how his own identity serves as a foundation: "I carry traditions from my homeland with me, and I think you can notice them when you talk to me, in my behaviour and sometimes even in my music. They form my foundation, and that foundation adds something to my work as a musician." His experiences in various European countries are part of this as well: "In my performances you can hear how I have worked and what I have experienced."
For the audience, he hoped for a journey that was not without commitment: "It is a long repertoire, and it will also be tiring for the audience, not only for me. But I believe it also teaches us how to lead our lives. Life is not easy."