Felipe Luzuriaga,
the violinist on the balcony
by Cristina Karolys
A few years ago, when I was still living in Ecuador, I read an article that described how Felipe was playing his violin from the balcony of his apartment in Toronto. He did it at night to lift the spirits of his neighbours and others in isolation during the pandemic. The note mentioned it was his 73rd day, and he celebrated by playing Beethoven's Ode to Joy. I applauded that way of building community, contributing with a grain of sand to the well-being of others, and playing not only classical but also Ecuadorian music on these pandemic nights. He had performed "La Vasija de Barro" alongside his wife and son on percussion. That's why the Canadian audience affectionately calls him the balcony violinist. "How cool is Felipe," I thought.
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Years later, now that I'm also living in Canada, I find it fantastic to interview him. I met Felipe in Toronto at a café called Circles and Squares. Later, I discovered at the Museum of Modern Art in New York that this is the name of an abstract art movement founded by Joaquín Torres García and Michel Seuphor in Paris. The group of artists published the Circles and Squares magazine and organized an exhibition of 130 works in 1930, leading a year later to Abstract Creation. Non-figurative art was born in 1931 in opposition to Surrealism.
Photo courtesy of Felipe Luzuriaga
There may be a relationship between our meeting, the magazine, and Felipe's creative work with this circles and squares movement. Music responds to a different nature from that of visual art. Its category is inherently abstract because it uses sounds to express emotions, ideas, and concepts and does not depend on literal or non-literal representations of concrete objects. Felipe's music and passion for the violin led us to recreate our soundscapes. Changing colours and shapes, ethereal sounds arise when listening to him play.
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I conversed with my good friend Felipe among square tables and round mirrors. Whom I met during my late and wild second adolescence. Although we shared some parties and bohemian moments, he always retained sight of his artistic goal. Entirely dedicated to his musical training, he was the first violinist of the National Symphony Orchestra of Ecuador, in a prominent career that had started to take off. Soloist, concertmaster, Musical Director of the Sucre National Theater Foundation in Ecuador, and member of various orchestras such as the Americas, the Chamber of Valdivia, the Civic of Boston, the National Symphony, and the Ontario Pops Orchestra, among others. Felipe has performed in America, Europe, and Asia and is pursuing a doctorate at the University of Toronto. He excitedly tells me that his thesis topic, an Introduction to the Music of Gerardo Guevara, has just been accepted. Felipe is a great ambassador for Latin American music, which he always includes in his repertoire.
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IT ALL STARTS IN CANADA​
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Felipe applied for a scholarship for a master's degree in violin at the University of Toronto because Canada offered the most friendly option for him and his family. He arrived in 2018, during what he describes as "a scorching summer," with his wife, Diva Sacoto, his three-year-old son, and two dogs at an Airbnb. They had no home.
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After finding a rental place, he focused entirely on his academic studies, happy to work back on his technique and study harmony and analysis, which he had long desired. He managed gigs that represented a monetary income for him. In addition, he began teaching violin under the Sistema Toronto (inspired by the Youth and Children's Orchestra Sistema of Venezuela), which has four centers located in less privileged areas of the city and offers high-level instruction free of charge to its residents.
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"Some graduates have already entered advanced music programs, others have not, but their experience has still been so good," he tells me.
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The Sistema Venezuela was created by José Antonio Abreu, "a Venezuelan genius who died in 2018 and created this crazy thing worldwide, from which Gustavo Dudamel emerged. He's the most visible face that has emerged from this program. He came from these peripheral neighbourhoods of Venezuela and is now the new conductor of the New York Philharmonic. He obtained this position at the Paris Opera. He's at this level, Dudamel."
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As he sipped his coffee, he told me that things had started to happen. "Recordings, concerts with professional orchestras of all kinds, from contemporary music, pop, classical, of the highest level... You arrive, there is only one rehearsal, and you play. The level is so high that it is expected that when you sit down to play, you are prepared to do so. That is the perspective when being hired. It is demanding on the one hand and enriching on the other. There are many opportunities, but it is very competitive, and the expectation is very high."
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I ask him to comment on his profession in our country. He answers, "Although Ecuador has developed well in the field of academic music, Canada responds to another reality in terms of professionalism, not only because of the level but also because of the quantity, variety, and organization of events."
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He tells me that in Toronto, "everything has been growing. In December, there came a point where, from all fronts, from education (teaching lessons and youth orchestras), conducting, and the doctorate, I was so swamped. After a day of conducting two concerts at once, I went to Ecuador. It was a time of growth in commitments and emotional factors." He expresses that when he arrived in Ecuador, he could finally rest. "Then, I was able to put everything into perspective. I'm so lucky to have Diva who supports me in everything I do." She drives him, helps him get organized, and never lets him stop.
Photo courtesy of Felipe Luzuriaga
LATIN AMERICA, PRESENT
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What opportunities have you had to share your musical culture with the Canadian community?
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Opportunities have arisen to share my cultural background, which I consider pretty broad because it includes all my experience in the academic field of classical music, the composers I grew up studying, and Ecuadorian and Latin American scores. Whenever I have the chance, I include it in the programming. For example, now that I am conducting orchestras and am the Musical Director of one of them, I introduce at least one Latin American piece in every concert. And so far, that has been the case... Since I started my master's here in Canada, I have played Ecuadorian pieces in my recitals. I programmed and played music by Gerardo Guevara, Enrique Espín Yepez, my uncle Diego Luzuriaga, etc.
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In January, at the University of Toronto Symphony Orchestra season concert, I conducted a piece by Gerardo Guevara, an Ecuadorian composer who is 93 years old..." and who is the central theme of my doctorate.
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I like to talk about music and if there is an opportunity, which was the case at that concert. It was didactic. I want the Canadian audience to have that contact and enrich themselves with that first encounter. I provide context so that people know where it comes from and can assimilate and enjoy it better.
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Where do you want to go? Do you want to become a composer?
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I don't consider myself a composer by profession because it's not primarily what I do, although I have created music of different genres and styles. I've also been involved in musical production with Diva, my wife, who is also a singer-songwriter. So, I've participated in those processes... My focus is on being a violinist. Interpreter and conductor, both. And educator. I consider all three equally important to me... I have worked in conducting, playing as an orchestra musician and soloist, chamber music, etc., and teaching in different places. I direct a youth orchestra and another academic one and have my private violin students. And each of those areas is equally important to me.
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In the doctoral program in conducting, I'm working with my mentor, who is Uri Mayer, one of the most prominent orchestra conductors Canada has ever had. I work with him one-on-one. He's a dream guide in the field of conducting. As a violin performer, the master's degree has prepared me to a very high level that I've continued to maintain.
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In October, I performed as a soloist in an orchestra in Toronto, for which I had to prepare intensely. Contrary to what is usually thought, musicians aren't just talented and stand on stage and sound beautiful just like that; we have to study a lot for that to happen. I enjoy it. At this moment, I'm aware of that, and I maintain and continue working at that level as a violinist.
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On the other hand, conducting and technical aspects need to be paid much attention to. It has more to do with a philosophical part of the conception of the works that are going to be interpreted because the conductor is the one who transmits those ideas. So, you have to have a broader preparation, see the work as a whole, in the context in which it was created and in the context in which you want to interpret it, within what style, under what influences, and ultimately, what you want to convey. It's a more intellectual and communicational job because the conductor is a person who is the link between the orchestra musicians, the audience, and the composer.
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Everything has different nuances. Each thing complements each other at this moment of my musical work. Teaching requires much creativity. Of the three, it's the one that requires the most creativity. One would think that being a teacher is more accessible, but it's the opposite. It requires much preparation and other things that must happen at the time for it to make sense and benefit children, adults, or whoever the students may be. It's complex. Before I thought intuitively, I said well, whatever it is, I'm going to transmit it, and at the moment, I'm going to be inspired for it to happen and in a way it can, in specific contexts. Sometimes, in one-on-one private lessons, you can do that more fluidly, but when you're in a group setting, you must be prepared and know what plan and tools you have for it to happen, even more so in challenging contexts, such as the Toronto System. It's difficult but very enriching; I enjoy seeing the results. Sometimes, little things happen to me; for example, a child I hadn't seen in a long time greeted me with much emotion. He sees and remembers you, and you see where he is now. You taught him three years ago when he was six or seven, and you see, wow, where he is now, what he has achieved, what he's doing. They are moments that touch and move you; it's the greatest reward of teaching. Although it's very demanding, it has different levels of reward.
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My priority is to finish my doctorate; I have to do it this year. It's called Doctor of Musical Arts, and it's designed for performers, for musicians who are not only researchers but also performers. I'm doing it in Musical Conducting, so it has a component of practice, conducting orchestras and having conducting classes. It also has a research component. The research part is vital and demanding. The topic is an introduction to Gerardo Guevara's music. Yesterday, I received the news that my thesis proposal was approved. In two weeks, I have a doctoral committee meeting in which professors evaluate me with questions about my proposal, and if they think it's good, they give me the green light to write it in full. I've completed all the practical requirements of the doctorate, and now I have to write the thesis... By the end of this year, I will be finishing my doctorate. That's my immediate goal.
Photo courtesy of Felipe Luzuriaga
THE GEOMETRY OF THE MIGRANT​
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A bright sun enters through the café window, announcing the end of the afternoon. Time has flown by, and I still have several questions. Life must go on, for him with his tight schedule and for me with my short visit to Toronto.
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We talk about music and, off the record, also about our migratory goals. At times, I think that we, the migrants, are the circles and squares. Of all sizes and colours, we must adapt and fit into this society. Be a piece of the puzzle, adjust here and there when we see an opportunity for space. Spheres and cubes of clay, extend their angles to fit, distorting their sides to fit in.
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Migrants grow, polish their dormant talents, refine the hypotenuses, create novel formulas, understand mathematics, geometry, and the games of the present, and take chances.
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One thing I am sure of is that Felipe's work in any of his disciplines is promising. Due to his dedication, intelligence, commitment, and great humanity, paths unfold generously. And that is something to be thankful for in this country, which is now mine, too, Canada.