>> Anne McLean: Hello.
I'm Anne McLean for Concerts
from the Library of Congress.
Today, it's my great pleasure to
be talking with Mitsuko Uchida
and Mark Padmore, and it's a joy
to be sharing their performance
of Franz Schubert's
Winterreise with our audiences.
Thanks for being here!
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Thank you!
>> Anne McLean: One of a
number of master works written
in the final two years
of the composer's life,
this 24-song cycle traces
the harrowing winter journey
of a wanderer confronting the
existential abyss of loneliness
and longing for a lost love.
This is a truly extraordinary
concert for many reasons,
and I'm looking forward
to learning about some
of your seemingly magical
aspects and techniques
that make it so memorable.
But to begin with, the context.
You recorded this performance
at Wigmore Hall at the outset
of the pandemic, broadcast
live by the BBC as part
of its Culture in
Quarantine series.
And I know that hearing it
at that time was a very
powerful experience.
Many people have written about
how you made that journey
so powerfully present,
almost overwhelmingly so.
So one of the things
that I wanted to ask you
about was your experience of
performing it at that time.
>> Mark Padmore: You're right,
and you've mentioned the
word loneliness, already.
The twelfth song,
the middle song
of Winterreise is
called Einsamkeit,
which means loneliness.
And essentially, it is about
each of our own journeys
through life by ourselves,
you know, the --
in the sort of essence
of life, we are alone.
We have to make sense of life
by ourselves, and this --
the protagonist of Winterreise
is definitely an outsider.
He's somebody who looks
in on happy life that goes
on in the town, and --
but he's outside of it,
and he is accompanied
really only on this journey
by a few barking dogs, a crow
that is circling around waiting
for him to fall in the
snow and be fed upon,
and almost nothing else
living in the whole cycle
until the very last song.
So it -- there is something very
extraordinary about the piece,
and we felt, in particular,
I think, in Wigmore Hall
on that occasion because it
was an empty hall we were
singing into.
There were six people,
I think, there in total,
and we didn't know where
this pandemic was going.
We just knew that people
were dying, and it was very,
very difficult to know what our
next moves were going to be.
It was before vaccines had
come in, so it was really
in a dark period, and the
piece, I think, really spoke
as powerfully as I
ever remember it.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: I think
that, too, that also --
the fact that lonely person
among all the lonely human
beings and all of
those composers,
Schubert is the most
lonely person that I know.
Don't you think?
Because Mozart is not lonely, he
just says about this and that,
but he is constantly in
love and he's always --
there are two of them,
and there's always a girl.
And in Schubert's case, he talks
about the girls and all that,
but there's -- the real
presence isn't there
and he's the most lonely person,
and the Winterreise, for me,
is so like, I mean,
[inaudible] is already
so achingly lonely, isn't it?
But the Winterreise
and then now,
as we are doing the
Schwanengesang,
it's his life that's
so, so lonely.
Although he was -- he seemed
to be happy with friends and --
but those were all guys.
And they were all
friends from the school,
from the convent school,
and so but he was a desperately
lonely person, and that accounts
and it -- at the point of the
pandemic where we knew nothing,
where we were going, nor....
but of course, John
Gilhooly was hoping
to have filled the
hall and all of that.
And then all that, we
couldn't let anybody in except
for those few, that would be
basically [inaudible] and John.
But anyway, I always
considered the Winterreise,
I mean I was always so
moved by the Winterreise.
I love the [Die schöne]
Müllerin.
And now, I'm so speechlessly
overawed by the Schwanengesang.
Doing it is, it's -- because
it is really is a swan song.
And but the first half
ends in Einsamkeit,
but the second half starts
as if hope was still there.
And then, when the hope
doesn't happen, it's --
so from then it is just
straight into that far --
and I always feel when I --
for example, this program
is Beethoven and Schubert.
Beethoven can look up
and even when he is
in hell, he can look up.
Schubert does not look up.
He looks at the far horizon,
and that the view is there.
And the halfway point, the view
of his is to the end of the --
it's probably, if he
had fantastic eyes,
he could have seen, but Der
Leiremann already waiting
for him.
That is the feel
of this, and I --
we did actually have
good space of spacing
of the rehearsals
that we had had.
We met up once a week,
four weeks in a row,
and that is actually regularly,
and that is really
rare in normal life.
Don't you think?
>> Mark Padmore: Yeah.
>> Anne McLean: Maybe this is,
what we're talking about is why
in spite of this bleak
and very tragic journey,
this stark examination
of human experience is
in the end a transformative and
even transcendent experience
for the listener or the viewer.
That's one of the biggest
questions for me is
that how does Schubert
bring this alchemy about?
How does he accomplish that
and how do you approach
it as artists?
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Come on.
Speak up first.
>> Mark Padmore:
I don't think --
I'm not sure that I see
great transformation in it.
I think that what there is, I
mean, it feels very close to me
to Samuel Beckett, to the world
of Beckett and if you think
of Waiting for Godot or
some of these other things,
we sort of end with this
business of having to carry on.
You know? Even if we can't carry
on, but we've got to carry on.
We will carry on.
It's sort of endurance,
and I think in a way,
the Leiremann represents --
you know, before that, he's --
the protagonist has already
been told that there's no room
for him in the graveyard,
you know, in the Wirtshaus.
He's sort of sent
on his way, again.
He can't die.
Death is not what is offered
for him at the moment.
He rails against God.
He says if, you know, there's
no God, then we are all gods.
He has this sort
of fury, at times,
about the comfortable bourgeoise
life that is being led
and he's not part of,
doesn't want to be part of.
And finally, he meets a beggar
who is standing on the ice
in bare feet with an empty
bowl in front of his feet,
with dogs barking at him again,
and he says shall I go with you?
It is just -- it's a
sort of companionship
which doesn't necessarily
lead anywhere.
I think it is -- it's one of
these things that we're left
in mystery as much as
anything, at that point.
And the piano stops
making music, in a way.
The piano plays a drone.
It becomes this strange
instrument, the hurdy-gurdy.
He plays a drone in the
left-hand, just two notes,
an open fifth, nothing else,
with a sort of rather
banal tune on top.
And that is -- that's the song.
There is nothing else there.
There's no modulation,
there's no change to it.
It is just music
that carries a --
and it's a little bit
like, I don't know.
Well, I think each of us
can make up our own minds
but what it means, but
it's full of mystery.
>> Anne McLean: It's open-ended.
It seems open-ended.
I wonder --
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
On the other --
but I think, Schubert has
had such a tragic life.
For me, he is one of
the few people who --
of course, every life and every
human being has seen death.
Yeah? One sees and
one lives on --
only the newborn babe saying
"aaa" hasn't seen it yet.
But having said so, it
seems -- Schubert seems --
but I sort of imagine if
Schubert were an onion
and you peeled him, and in
the center is the purest soul.
And that -- I couldn't
say, I wouldn't say,
even he might be the greatest.
But Beethoven, if
you opened him,
there's a pure soul,
but I don't think so.
And Mozart is never that
lonely, okay there are moments,
pieces of music I feel that,
but he's constantly somehow
with another person, and
that is always a girl,
and he can so easily
fall in love.
And that is this positive
attitude is amazing,
but he was just like
that, like a child looking
at something beautiful.
A nice [pfft], he was
already interested.
And Schubert is not that
at all, and so for me,
he belongs to the few people
in history who of the artist.
I put him together with [Tilman]
Riemanschneider and Van Gogh
in their tragedy of life.
So I -- somebody can think
about that, but for me,
what that means for
me, strength.
Schubert has been the
closest composer ever
since I was a child,
and children,
apparently are not drawn
to that sort of loneliness,
but I was actually I shared
with them my loneliness
more than with any other.
And children are not allowed
to play that many lonely,
tragic pieces, and I actually
felt much more, for example,
the impromptus, not the
E flat impromptu that's
so seemingly easy going and
seemingly just beautiful.
It isn't. It is hugely
dramatic and tragic,
but that I didn't understand.
But I always wanted
to play the C minor,
that is so outright tragic.
So I felt always drawn to
this loneliness of Schubert
that probably every
human being has.
>> Anne McLean: From
your experience
in playing the late sonatas,
do you connect them, at all,
with this great cycle?
Anything in particular about
those last three sonatas?
We're going to have a few --
several performances of
them coming up in connection
with your performance.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Well,
not directly, actually.
The three last sonatas
are totally extraordinary.
That is in a way, as
the three last sonatas
of Beethoven are one unit.
And that is actually
one gigantic piece,
and that is also motivically
so conceived and it developed,
[opp.] 109 and 110, are both --
they share the motivic units.
Third, fourth, third,
fourth, third, fourth.
And then [op.] 111 jumps off
it into a different sphere,
that all three are
still in one unit
and the three last Schubert
sonatas which have been also --
much more so than
even Beethoven,
they were composed probably
within one month or two months,
and in September he
finished writing.
September 28.
But he might have started --
when he started thinking
about it, we don't quite know,
but there is this
amazing Mass in E flat.
But those three sonatas
consist --
the C minor is still
that where the suffering
and anger is still
absolutely alive.
And then it goes to the A
major that is seemingly just
so wonderfully beautiful and
grand, and then you realize
that oh, those -- [vocalizes]
-- basically, those
gongs, [vocalizes],
you realize at some point
it's ringing for his funeral.
And he realizes it.
And then the B flat, the last
sonata, he is not there anymore.
And that slow movement, C
sharp minor is just most --
one of the most extraordinary
pieces.
He -- it is -- he is
not alive anymore.
And so the piece, in my
opinion, I used to think
when I was younger that
he should've stopped.
Like 111, it would've
been just two movements,
that he should have stopped
after that slow movement
and that was it.
But now, I'm grateful that
he wrote all four movements
because the rest is also amazing
and it has got a conclusion
in the last movement.
And that is -- that kind of
thing, it is another picture
of the Winterreise that he
goes away with a Leiremann.
But this is -- he, it's, he
knows he is there at the --
I don't know whether he was
at hell or at hell's gate
or at heaven's gate,
and he's at the gate
that doesn't open for him.
And then when it opens at the
very end, he runs through it.
So in a way, that
was the conclusion
of his idea about those three.
And -- but I don't know
what he thought about it,
but it just happened that way.
But so those three sonatas
are so extraordinary,
but direct connection to the
Winterreise, probably not.
But if I ever thought that
they may have something to do
with some connection
with each other.
If I looked into it again,
and again, and again,
and another thousand
times, I might discover
that in Schwanengesang
and the three last sonatas.
Because these are
very close at --
>> Mark Padmore: In time.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: In
time of the composition,
so that might really be there.
His life of that time,
he was the spirit.
>> Mark Padmore: I
think what you do find
in the late songs
is there's a --
he really thinks about the
way he uses thirds and sixths.
And I think a lot of
that comes from the fact
that he was writing quite a lot
of male voice part songs
towards the end of his life.
There's an amazing one called
Gesang der Geister über den
Wassern, which is for two
violas, two cellos and a bass,
and an eight-part
male voice choir.
And that sort of -- there's a
companionship about the writing
of these close harmonies, sort
of voices, but in the sort
of tenor, baritone range and
I think there's a lot of that
in some of the late songs.
You get it certainly -- to a
certain extent in Winterreise.
You get it even more
so in Schwanengesang.
But what you get in
Winterreise, as well,
is you get these repeated notes.
I mean, it becomes a real motif
of notes repeating
and repeating.
In Wegweiser, you know the --
even the voice stops
singing melody
and starts singing
just on a single note.
You also get his
use of open fifths,
which is can be extremely
expressive.
There are moments -- I
mean, particularly of course
in Leiermann, but also the
very beginning of Einsamkeit,
you get the open fifth.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: But
even the Lindenbaum, yeah?
>> Mark Padmore: Yes.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: It does.
And that is the same
as the Der Leiermann.
>> Mark Padmore: Yeah.
The same notes.
You -- in Lindenbaum,
he ends on a open fifth
from the little horn calls
that come in the introduction,
and he ends on the B
natural and the F sharp,
which is the same two notes
as you'll hear eventually
in Leiremann.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: But if you
had sang the original key.
>> Mark Padmore: Yes.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: But he
has been asked to change,
to lower a few of the --
so how many are there?
>> Mark Padmore: Five.
He does transpositions for five.
And of course, baritones,
which we --
and we often know Winterreise
is sung by lower voices.
They change the keys,
really, as they want,
and then you lose the
relationship between them.
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
I think so, too.
>> Anne McLean: You know, I was
thinking about this comment,
Arthur Brindle talks about
these pieces as being almost
like a distillation, and that
they're very gestural, and on --
he uses the word aphoristic,
which is interesting,
but I wondered if you
hear this music as leading
to the lieder we hear
from Schoenberg later,
or things like that.
I hear it as almost occasionally
modern in certain ways.
>> Mark Padmore: It's
certainly very daring.
I mean, you know,
nobody had written a song
like Der Leiermann or
indeed, Der Doppelgänger,
which is the pronouncement
song of Schwanengesang.
You know, and there are actually
several songs in Winterreise
where you really
wonder what's going on.
Letzte Hoffnung, for example,
where you know, you just --
you do not know really
where he's going.
You don't even know which
beat of the bar you're on.
You don't know what
key you're in.
All sorts of things which
leave you in a very sort
of uncertain state, and so
that is -- that really does.
And I don't know
whether it looks forward,
but it is challenging -- it was
challenging then, and it needs
to challenge us today.
We mustn't sort of start
making this music sound normal.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: No.
>> Mark Padmore:
It wasn't normal,
and it's shocking, actually.
Some of it is really,
really shocking.
>> Anne McLean: Still very much
so, and I was thinking, too,
about Peter Pears also made this
comment that it was not normal
at all, and he talked about how
this is a lifetime's companion.
You know? You don't
sing it as a young man.
That's something he
said in an interview
with Britten and so forth.
But it is -- I have one of
the questions that I wanted
to ask you about
what how did you --
did you talk about the
colors and colorations?
Because the colors
the two of you bring
to this are just
remarkable, in terms of all
of the delicate piano things,
the rustling of the leaves,
you know, the droplets of ice.
And also, you Mark, you made
a comment in an interview
about text, about Philippe
Herreweghe influencing your
thinking about the way
text comes across and how
to approach it and so forth.
For me, this performance
is a presentation
of the poems like no other.
One can sing the songs, but you
are also expressing the poems
each moment, and I notice
that you are also
singing them with him.
But how did you prepare
this together in terms
of the imagination,
particularly colors?
>> Mark Padmore: I think
what's wonderful about working
with Mitsuko is you -- you know,
I go to her studio in London,
and we talk about all sorts of
things and we might, you know,
do a song and the Mitsuko sort
of says, but this reminds me
of this, and we exchange ideas
about all sorts of music,
and that can go, you know, right
through to [György] Kurtág.
You know, I mean, Mitsuko's
got an awful lot of music
in her head, which
is rather wonderful.
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
You have even more.
>> Mark Padmore: A lot of songs.
But you know, we have
that sort of dialogue.
I don't think we necessarily
make specific choices
about moments, but we --
>> Mitsuko Uchida: We didn't.
Actually, we just well, we
discuss about this and that
and everything else, and we
had a run through, basically.
We did it, and then we might
talk about and then over a cup
of tea, we have what
a good time.
So basically, that was it.
But we did it regularly,
once a week for four times.
So it grew in that
period of time,
probably when we
were not working,
that time it was growing.
And then by the end when
it reached the hall,
that we were ready to
be free with each other.
>> Mark Padmore:
We had performed the piece
together previously, as well.
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
Of course, yeah.
>> Mark Padmore: This was
just, you know, the preparation
in this last -- I mean, both
Mitsuko and I love rehearsing.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Yes.
>> Mark Padmore: And actually,
sort of just, you know,
as you get to know a piece
more and more, I'm --
next year, I'm hoping
to go to Marlboro.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: That
would be fantastic, yeah.
>> Mark Padmore: Which is
-- and I know that there,
one of the things is that you
have no sort of time limits,
really, on how you
work on something.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: And
even if you decided not
to perform, it's perfectly okay.
You see? And that freedom,
I think, is fantastic.
And when we are committed to a
concert, we have to work hard.
And of course, then,
things happen.
I know that.
But to have the ultimate freedom
of working and thinking together
and experimenting,
and then decide well,
we are not far enough.
That is the ultimate
freedom, no?
>> Anne McLean: It
comes across as --
this is extraordinary the
way you've put it together,
and I am just so grateful to be
able to share it with people.
You know, you reminded
me of something
when you mentioned
Kurtág, we had Mr. Kurtág
and his wife perform here.
And somehow, when
you spoke his name,
an image flashed in my mind.
He did the Bach Transcriptions
with his wife, but he chose
to -- they chose to perform with
their backs to the audience.
At their piano with the
wings, you know the wings.
But it was just so touching, so
moving, that whole performance.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: I think
that is one of the most amazing
and moving concerts I know.
And I am a great
fan of both of them.
Of course, Béla Bartók
is a great --
he is one of the
greatest composers
of the twentieth
century, full stop.
That is quite clear.
But Joseph Szigeti
for me is also one
of the greatest musicians,
violinist of the
twentieth century.
He -- and for me, those two --
if I was to choose two, Szigeti
and Busch, Adolf Busch are
the best, that string quartet.
And Busch quartet,
Beethoven's string quartet,
slow movement are unparalleled
compared to anybody.
So well, actually, when
you think of the Library
of Congress, the first
concert recording I've heard
from there is actually
the recording
of Béla Bartók with
Joseph Szigeti.
>> Anne McLean: Interesting.
You know, that's wonderful to
know that people are talking --
you're thinking about this.
It is a remarkable
performance, and we --
that's one way we were able
to persuade Mr. Kurtág to come
because his agents
and all the people
in between us said,
oh, he can't travel.
I'm sorry, it's impossible.
And we wrote a letter
and sent him copies
of Bartók's correspondence
with the Library.
He wrote and said yes, I
would like to try to do this.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: I am
convinced that it made it,
because he -- of all the people,
he knows what really
is great music.
And also, he -- I
don't need even to say,
we never discuss Bartók.
But not quite through that,
but I know how he must
so admire Béla Bartók.
>> Anne McLean: Yes.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: And I admire
Kurtág's music very, very much.
It is so minimalistic,
and yet it's so deep.
>> Anne McLean: You know,
speaking of minimalistic,
I was thinking about the
connection to Samuel Beckett,
who admired these Schubert songs
so much, and sang them himself
and played his accompaniments
at the piano.
And I was wondering about that
in terms of how people view him.
You wouldn't expect what you
know of him and his plays,
that he would be somebody
that would be a big
Schubert fan, necessarily.
Have you ever seen the play
where he uses Nacht und
Träume as an excerpt?
>> Mark Padmore: I actually
recorded that for a performance
that Katie Mitchell
did in Sweden.
>> Anne McLean: Wow.
>> Mark Padmore: We
did the soundtrack,
and it is a remarkable piece.
And of course, he uses
other bits of Schubert
in some of the radio plays.
Snippets heard...
and so Schubert really
was the composer
that spoke most closely,
I think, to Beckett.
>>> Anne McLean:
Do you feel that --
some people say that this music
is, this cycle is absurdist
in some ways, that it is
existential to the point
of almost a Beckett play.
You know, and you mentioned
earlier "I can't go on,"
that's like The Krapp's Last
Tape, that's a Beckett play
where he says "I can't go
on, I must go on, I go on."
Do you envision those
connections in the cycle,
those kinds of things, or
is it more human for you?
>> Mark Padmore: No, I
think it's really clear.
I think, you know, as they
say, there's a lack of humanity
in the piece, a bit like,
you know, Beckett characters
in dust bins, or in a mound
of, you know, up to their neck.
You know, it is -- you can
imagine the protagonist
in exactly that kind
of situation.
It's about being
alone in the world,
about somehow making your way.
And it is -- I mean the
first half, in particular,
is very much a relationship
with winter weather, you know,
with the ice, with
tears freezing, with --
he's searching in the tracks --
you know, searching
for tracks in the snow.
The second half, it's -- it
gets a little bit, actually,
the poetry, there's
a bit of humor in it.
You know, Der griese Kopf,
about his hair frosting over
and him being happy because he's
that much closer to the grave,
and then it melts, and
then he realizes actually,
the grave is still
a long way off.
And the way he talks to the
crow, the way he, you know,
in Letzte Hoffnung the way he
thinks about a leaf hanging on,
you know, the last
leaf hanging on a tree.
I mean, that's a Beckett
image if you want one,
is a tree with one
leaf hanging on it.
I mean, whether Beckett, you
know, he may even have taken
that for Waiting for Godot,
you know, from Winterreise.
Who knows?
That's a new theory.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: That's
a new theory, completely.
Yeah.
>> Mark Padmore: You know, so
yes, you -- and going, you know,
then going to the
Wirtshaus and really imagine.
Wirtshaus, you know, it's --
imagine the graveyard as an inn,
but then there is no
room for him at the inn.
You know? All of these things
are incredibly Beckettian,
I think.
>> Anne McLean: They
seem to be, don't they?
Do you feel -- this is
a personal question.
Do you experience Der
Leiermann as having a moment
of hope, or perhaps not?
>> Mitsuko Uchida: No.
>> Mark Padmore: I don't hear
hope in that song, particularly.
I hear strangeness.
I hear, you know, I see --
I mean, Graham Johnson
is really interesting
in his wonderful book
about Schubert songs.
He actually says that he thinks
that Schubert was terrified
of what might happen to him
as syphilis, the symptoms
of syphilis developed.
And one of the things is
losing your mind, somewhat.
And also, your ability
to appreciate music,
and Graham Johnson suggests
that it's almost like his vision
of what his life could become.
He could become -- Schubert
himself could become
that beggar man turning a lyre,
not being able to make music.
I think -- I mean, I don't
think that's the single solution
or whatever to that song.
I think it's a richer
song than that,
but I think it's a very
interesting way of --
perspective of looking
on it for one moment.
I you know, some people seem to
think the Leiremann is death.
It's a bit like, you
know, people saying,
do you believe in God?
It sounds like it should
be a yes or a no answer.
I don't think this -- I
think it is a mystery,
and I think that's the genius
that Schubert gives us is the
fact that we don't, we will --
I've spent my life
asking that question.
I don't know the answer, but
I'm going to continue asking it
and continue talking to people
like Mitsuko to you know,
to put this piece together
and then pose the
question to an audience.
That's all we can do.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Yes.
The performance of the
great piece, great pieces
of music is each time an
experience of one-off event,
with that audience,
in that room.
And if it is empty, the more
empty, the more difficult.
So that was actually very
difficult event to play to 5
or 6 people sitting in there.
But having said so, there were
5 or 6 people and it was the 2
of us, and that makes
it so much more --
there is somebody else
who can also add to it.
And not only -- but
when I am playing solo,
it is just me, and
that is tough.
But on the other hand,
that has also advantages
that you can then pick something
from the far end of [inaudible],
and then invent something.
But as for Winterreise,
the last Leiremann,
I think the hope is
going to the other world,
and this is basically
hope for death, for me,
that vision that I have.
The hurdy-gurdy man, but
basically, he is taking the hand
of Schubert and taking him all
over to the other world
wherever it is, we don't know.
It's certainly not
very Christian world.
>> Mark Padmore: No.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: No.
It is -- that is very clear.
But it's into the next world.
>> Anne McLean: Thinking
about your current tour
and what you're doing, how has
the experience performing this
work during the pandemic,
does it affect the way you
evolved your perception
of the cycle, now?
>> Mark Padmore: I mean,
I think it's important
to stress the pandemic
has been particularly hard
for performing musicians.
You know, and it's not just us.
It's -- it is, you know,
the people in the Mahler
Chamber Orchestra, or the people
in the symphony orchestras.
You know, the musicians that--
in the Met Orchestra,
who you know --
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
Overnight, work drops.
Like that, yeah.
>> Mark Padmore:
You know, it's --
it really highlighted
how precarious the life
of performing musicians
can be, and other artists.
You know, actors and
all the people who go
into making theater and dance
and other things happen.
So you know, I think we
-- people have suffered,
some more than others.
Some people have had to totally
change their lives and careers,
and you know, and gone
off to do something else.
It does affect you, as does the
situation currently in Ukraine.
You know, we can't perform
this music in the same way
in a political situation
which has been transformed
so horrifically.
So each of these things
is really goes deep,
and we have to absorb it and try
to make some kind
of sense of it.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Sense, yeah,
maybe if there is no sense.
But whatever it is, it
is particularly difficult
for the young people
who have had their --
say if you are 17 or 19 or
something, those two years,
it's already two years of it,
right, but those went away,
and that is a long time and the
important point of your life.
And for particularly
when you are trying
to be a performing musician, for
example, you don't really know
where you're going, what is
happening, what is possible,
what is not possible, because
pandemic is not totally over,
yet.
No, it isn't, because
it is quietening down,
but it is still -- with
the vaccine and everything,
but that's still, many,
many people who don't want
to get vaccinated and not only
that, but then you can have --
but it's still continuing.
And how this life is going and
there are so many people in --
without knowing what
direction there is.
But in -- before this, people
had some sort of least idea
about if I did continue, well --
people even, which
is the wrong thing,
but there's been the competition
and that's been good,
and the next step is whatever.
But the world doesn't function
anymore the way it did,
and the world, we still
don't know who will survive,
what will survive, under
what circumstances.
So we have to --
and now is the time,
I think it's important it
is that we help each other
because without it, we --
it will be very difficult.
>> Anne McLean: We
need you to guide us,
audiences need artists
to guide us in this.
We are so grateful to you
for taking the time to talk
about these very deep
questions, and Schubert is
as profound a subject
as one can find.
But thank you so much for the
extraordinary performance.
We're delighted to share
it with our audiences,
and we hope to see you at
the Library of Congress
at the Coolidge Auditorium.
>> Mitsuko Uchida:
Yes, what a good idea.
>> Mark Padmore:
That would be lovely.
>> Mitsuko Uchida: Yes,
that would be wonderful.
Yes, we must plan.
Okay, thank you so much, Anne.
>> Mark Padmore: Thank you.