Zusatztext 48134482 Informationen zum Autor HARUKI MURAKAMI was born in Kyoto in 1949 and now lives near Tokyo. His work has been translated into more than fifty languages! and the most recent of his many international honors is the Jerusalem Prize! whose previous recipients include J. M. Coetzee! Milan Kundera! and V. S. Naipaul. Translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin. Klappentext A deeply personal! intimate conversation about music and writing between the internationally acclaimed! best-selling author and the former conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. In Absolutely on Music! internationally Haruki Murakami sits down with his friend Seiji Ozawa! the revered former conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra! for a series of conversations on their shared passion: music. Over the course of two years! Murakami and Ozawa discuss everything from Brahms to Beethoven! from Leonard Bernstein to Glenn Gould! from Bartók to Mahler! and from pop-up orchestras to opera. They listen to and dissect recordings of some of their favorite performances! and Murakami questions Ozawa about his career conducting orchestras around the world. Culminating in Murakami's ten-day visit to the banks of Lake Geneva to observe Ozawa's retreat for young musicians! the book is interspersed with ruminations on record collecting! jazz clubs! orchestra halls! film scores! and much more. A deep reflection on the essential nature of both music and writing! Absolutely on Music is an unprecedented glimpse into the minds of two maestros. Introduction My Afternoons with Seiji Ozawa   Until we started the interviews in this book, I had never had a serious conversation with Seiji Ozawa about music. True, I lived in Boston from 1993 to 1995, while he was still music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and I would often go to concerts he conducted, but I was just another anonymous fan in the audience. Not long after that, my wife and I happened to become friends with his daughter, Seira, and we would see and talk to her father now and then. But our acquaintance was casual and had nothing to do with either his work or mine.   Perhaps one reason we never talked seriously about music until recently is that the maestro’s work kept him so fully involved. As a result, whenever we got together to have a drink, we’d talk about anything other than music. At most, we might have shared a few fragmentary remarks on some musical topics that never led anywhere. Ozawa is the type of person who focuses all his energy on his work, so that when he steps away from it, he needs to take a breather. Knowing this, I avoided bringing up musical topics when I was in his company.   In December of 2009, however, Ozawa was found to have esophageal cancer, and after major surgery the following month, he had to restrict his musical activities, largely replacing them with a challenging program of recuperation and rehabilitation. Perhaps because of this regime, we gradually began to talk more about music whenever we met. As weakened as he was, he took on a new vitality whenever the topic turned to music. Even when talking with a musical layman such as myself, any sort of conversation about music seemed to provide the refreshment he needed. And the very fact that I was not in his field probably set him at ease.   I have been a fervent jazz fan for close to half a century, but I have also been listening to classical music with no less enjoyment, collecting classical records since I was in high school, and going to concerts as often as time would permit. Especially when I was living in Europe— from 1986 to 1989—I was immersed in classical music. Listening to jazz and the classics has always been both an effective stimulus and a source of peace to my heart and mind. If someone told me that I could listen to only one or the other but not to both, my life would be immeasur...