‘It feels unreal. But on the other hand, when I went to record the CD, I kept asking the engineers: ‘Was this take just good, or was it good enough for an Edison?’ When I received an email with the subject ‘Congratulations on your nomination for an Edison’, I thought it was phishing used to be. I walked around my house for half an hour, and then just to be sure, I googled the Edisons’ website. Then I saw myself standing there. I screamed all day.”
The nomination became a win: violinist Julija Hartig received the nomination for her debut album on October 9 Dark Velvet, featuring ten pieces that eight composers wrote for her over the years, was awarded the classic Edison in the category for best newcomer. And that category is quite special for someone of 51.
Hartig grew up in the former Yugoslavia. “My mother was a singer, my father a cellist and composer. It was never a question that I would also become a musician. I would rather dance, but it was calculated that I would be too tall to be a ballerina. The violin was chosen for me, and I was raised as a child prodigy.” Hartig had to grow up early (“As a five-year-old I was already home alone and had to make my own food.”) to devote herself completely to music. She attended the conservatory in Yugoslavia and was already teaching there at the age of 18. But the flashy solo career that Hartig had been instilled in all those years did not materialize. War came.
By sheer coincidence she got the opportunity to come and study in Rotterdam as a refugee. “It was suddenly arranged. Sometimes you don’t have to think, but just follow and think with dedication: this has to be good.” Hartig enrolled in the Netherlands for a bachelor’s and master’s degree in violin, and took orchestral jobs to make a living. She still tried to break through as a soloist, and she has also appeared in orchestras in the Netherlands and Serbia, but she could not find a place to “manifest herself as I really am.” I felt very frustrated about that for a long time. By now I had accepted that it was not just me. There are so many factors involved. But in Serbia I disappointed a lot of people. They still see me there as someone who didn’t make it.”
Traumas and a healing process
Yet you cannot claim that Hartig has been sitting still. After thirteen years in the Radio Chamber Philharmonic, she has now been first violinist in the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra for ten years. In the meantime, she was one of the founders of the Splendor musicians’ collective and the Ludwig ensemble, and she formed the basis of Roctet, the string octet with strings from the Radio Philharmonic. Things also turned out well with my love for the violin. “I became fond of playing the violin when I understood that the violin is simply a communication tool. Communication is what art is all about.”
But the basis of Hartig’s first solo album, and therefore her Edison, is not too cheerful. “I had a tough period just before corona. When the pandemic hit, I was finally able to stand still and look my trauma in the eye. To understand what I had gone through and how on earth I ended up where I did, I am a personal blog start writing.”
“Suddenly there was the story of my composing father. As a two-year-old child I already listened to the process of creating music. I realized that I have always remained close to composers after that. Good friends, a relationship, during my studies; I have always kept composers around me. As a result, many pieces have been written especially for me over the years. Suddenly I had a great desire to record that together. Actually just for myself, as a healing process.”
That was Dark Velvet, an album featuring Hartig’s “ten children”. Some she calls mature, like her father’s pieces from the early 90s that she knows inside out. There are teenagers, like ‘Oh, Die, My Love’ by dear friend Isidora Zebeljan. The most difficult were the babies, such as ‘A song for Isidora’ by Calliope Tsoupaki, dedicated to the same Zebeljan, who died young.
Benjamin Button
Fortunately, the optimistic and energetic Hartig does not shy away from some traumas and difficult things. In fact: “Life must be hard. Only then is the limitless possible. I sometimes think that a life that isn’t hard enough is one of the hardest things that can happen to you. We all live on primal instincts: we have the need to fight for our lives. I love that mode. Or I’m used to it, that’s also possible.” So what if Dark Velvet had healed her completely? “Terrible!”, Hartig screams, laughing. “Fortunately, that is probably no longer possible.”
Having to be an adult as a child and then break through as a newcomer at the age of 51: “I feel like Benjamin Button, the man from that film who is born old and keeps getting younger. I feel very strongly that the next album must be released soon. I am now a newcomer, now there is no turning back.”
“Of course I thought, ‘Hey, why am I not 31.’ I’m 51, anything can happen to my health. It’s like meeting the love of your life and he’s thirty years younger than you.” Are there any advantages to making your debut at 51? “For the rest: everything! I feel physically better than ever. I am more powerful than ever. I have found my own voice.”
She doesn’t know yet whether she will play more standard repertoire, stick with newly composed music, or start composing herself. Or she doesn’t want to say it, because “ideals and dreams should not be verbalized before they really exist. That’s wasted energy. That energy is really needed in the cocoon where the dreams are.”
Also read the review of Dark Velvet : ‘Violinist Julija Hartig makes a beautiful autobiography in notes’ (●●●●)