With Rhapsodos presents harpist Joost Willemze with an album that aspires to be more than a recital. The CD, which will be released on March 13, is conceived as a personal artistic portrait: a program that brings together the repertoire that shaped him with new compositions written especially for him. The result is a musical journey in which sound, imagination, and narrative continually touch one another. In conversation with Werner De Smet for Klassiek Centraal, Willemze speaks about his musical roots, his fascination with language and mythology, and the harp as an instrument capable of carrying stories.
When the Harp Found Him
Willemze's musical journey began in an almost storybook-simple way, yet tinged with fate. At age six, he visited the open day of the music school in Woerden with his mother. On the stairs, his eyes immediately fell on the harp classroom: "There was a small troubadour harp with just over twenty strings. When I heard the glissandi, it had something magical about it. Really, the choice was made instantly. I sometimes think: 'What if I hadn't come across that harp on that particular day?' It almost feels like destiny that I became a harpist.'"
Years later, he experienced a defining moment when he felt like a true rhapsode for the first time: during a performance of Grandjany's Rhapsody in a palazzo in Rome, he was completely transported: "It was only about the music. I functioned as a kind of medium. Afterward, I was moved emotionally. That's when you realize that music can rise above everything. You truly feel like a servant of something greater."
This sense of complete surrender returns again and again in how he interprets music and how he assembled the Rhapsodos album: he continually seeks the connection between individual pieces and an overarching narrative.
Between Old and New
Willemze calls himself a musical eclectic, inspired by ancient philosophers who combined ideas from different traditions: "That's how I see my own musical practice: I play what moves me, regardless of style, period, or genre, and I seek my own color palette," he explains. "I've always had an aversion to dogmatism and overly black-and-white thinking. It's actually beautiful to find a unique combination of color shadings for yourself."
His concert programs are often built around an overarching idea that connects different works: "For me, making music is also a form of storytelling. Some emotions are difficult to capture in words. Music begins where words end." During a program about Orpheus, he himself told the story in his own words, and several of the pieces from that concert also appear on the album.
Roots and Inspiration
Willemze grew up in a musical environment. His siblings were already taking music lessons, and on Sunday afternoons, Bach or Handel often filled the house. The church also played an important role. "We went to the Peter's Church in Woerden every Sunday. As a child, I heard the majestic sounds of the organ there. Above that organ stands a large statue of King David with his harp. Perhaps an unconscious fascination was born there."
Religion and spirituality deeply shaped his artistic vision. Years later, he views religion eclectically: he can find stillness in churches in Rome or in Buddhist or Taoist temples, while he has little use for rules and dogmas: "There are certain universal truths and ideas in most religions that touch the core of what it means to be human. For me as a musician, the striving for the higher and the beautiful feels like an important calling. I sometimes notice that music can transcend everything; those are beautiful experiences. As Dostoevsky wrote: 'Beauty will save the world.'"
Besides music and religion, a broad cultural curiosity also played a role. Willemze studied classical languages and Russian and traveled extensively, often for his music: "Ancient texts teach you that there's rarely one definitive version. You work with variants, context, and interpretation. I recognize that in music. There's no such thing as a neutral performance either. Tempo, phrasing, and tone color determine how a piece is understood. Classical languages taught me above all to be more precise: not just playing intuitively, but being able to explain why I choose a particular direction."
Willemze experiences music as a form of language, with sentence structure, accents, commas, questions, and exclamations. "A musical phrase can land or remain open. On the harp, that's very tangible." At the same time, he warns against overly rigid systematic thinking. "Sound and color are equally important. Music ultimately remains a sensory experience." He sees parallels between classical antiquity and his musical practice: structure (logos) and substance (ethos) together form the core: "For me, logos is the arc and the structure, ethos is character and substance. I always try to connect the two: clarity in form and something that touches what is human."
The Rhapsode as Inspiration
The title Rhapsodos refers to the wandering storytellers of ancient Greece, who wove together and recited existing narratives. Willemze sees himself in this image: "First and foremost, I am a performer. But I feel a kinship with the idea of the rhapsode. Not because I literally retell a story, but because I give meaning to it through performance. I try to turn separate pieces into a coherent arc, with contrast, timing, and character, so that the music can speak as a story."
He sees the harp as an instrument that balances between old and contemporary: in new works you hear mythical imagery woven together with modern sonic colors, sometimes even with electronics, as in Event Horizon. New repertoire on the album was specially written for him by various composers, including Lemereis, Micháns and Tafreshi & Shayesteh.
Although the album consists of separate pieces, he sees it primarily as one continuous line of thought. According to Willemze, it's an artistic portrait: pieces that have shaped him alongside new works written for him; together they form one arc. At the same time, it's a showcase of what the harp can do: lyrical sound fields, rhythmic passages, theatrical effects, subtle color shifts and electronics. Attentive listening contributes to a deeper experience, a kind of catharsis, as the ancient Greeks described it: intense emotions lead to inner purification and clarity.
According to Willemze, interpreting these works requires responsibility: "Technique is the foundation, but only so it can become invisible. In Micháns the underworld must be palpable, in Lizotte Exosphère sounds lighter, and with Chertok the scenes remain playful. That freedom also means the same work can sound quite different when performed by different harpists, as long as the overall arc and atmosphere are right." Just as with classical texts, there's rarely one definitive interpretation. Ambiguity and personal choices, such as the length of a silence or how a cadenza is concluded, leave room for individual meaning.
Teaching as a Mirror
Willemze experiences teaching as a way to stay sharp and discover new perspectives. He gives students a solid technical foundation, but encourages them to develop their own vision: "When a student gets stuck, I need to analyze exactly what's happening. That often leads me to new insights myself. Students also bring new interpretations and repertoire. One of my most repeated pieces of advice sounds simple, but it's effective: practice slowly. If something sounds rock-solid when played slowly, you can build up the tempo later without it falling apart. I say that to students—but really, I keep saying it to myself too." In a sense, he's passing on the rhapsode tradition: giving meaning to music, building tension, making choices that let a piece speak.
He emphasizes that Rhapsodos is structured as continuous dramaturgy: individual tracks can be listened to separately, but you only hear the full coherence from beginning to end. In this way, the album invites attentive listening: "I understand that people often listen fragmentarily, but the album's sequence is deliberate, with contrasts and a tension that builds and releases. My invitation to the listener is: try it once from A to Z, and then choose your own route."
Willemze sees classical music as an oasis of peace and reflection in a culture of speed. He also draws a parallel with classical languages: both are often marginalized, yet both offer timeless insights into human emotions and behavior. Attentive listening is connected to a deeper purpose: experiencing catharsis, as the ancient Greeks described it: "During tragedy you experience intense emotions that ultimately lead to a form of inner purification. I recognize that in music too. Problems don't disappear, but more space and clarity can emerge."
What You Take With You
What does Willemze hope listeners take away after listening to Rhapsodos?
"“That music can carry stories and that the harp can do so much more than you ever imagined. The incredibly powerful narrative force of music and the unprecedented possibilities of this instrument are boundless for me.”
Through the combination of tradition and innovation, intellect and emotion, rhythm and timbre, Rhapsodos offers a rich, personal and moving portrait of a harpist who sees music as language, as story and as an instrument of catharsis. An album you don't just hear, but feel, experience and take with you on a journey through sound and meaning.
More info: https://joostwillemze.com/rhapsodos
