Вера Дулова. Воспоминания. Статьи. Документы - стр. 32
At this point in my memories of Mme. Dulova, I would also like to speak about the quality of human rapport, admiration and affection that I witnessed between many “great” artists of the harp world. I cannot name them all, but I think of Phia Berghout, Pierre Jamet, Marcel Grandjany, Nicanor Zabaleta and so many others. They were deeply kind and determined to bring the harp to a better state of awareness in the world. They made us love music. It was a time of respect and friendship between harpists. We were faithful to these exceptional people. This attitude seems to have changed in many of today’s young musicians. The teacher is expected to provide magical solutions for the student to play well without having to work-or perhaps, just barely.
One can give all the advice in heaven and earth with competence and seriousness, but unless it is applied by the student, the result will be mediocre. During the recent master class given by Susann McDonald at Maubeuge, I was happy to hear her ask the students, “Do you play ёtudes?” What a great joy it was to hear this very young Dutch student reply that she had finished studying the&udes by Bochsa, Damase and Dizi. The result was there! She played remarkably well for all of her 12 years. This is the quality of work that we saw with Mme. Dulova and her students.
This photo could be that of my parents, as both gave me sincere advice and love. When Pierre Jamet left us I felt the need to visit Mme. Dulova. I made the decision to go to Moscow in 1997, and when I arrived Natasha Shameyeva (a friend for 30 years) let me know that “Madame” was waiting for me and that I needed to hurry because we could not make “Madame” wait! Her apartment reflected her immense personality. The quality of her furniture, the paintings and her personal belongings transported me instantly to the Russia of the Tzars. A dinner of great quality was offered to Natasha and me, and then relentless questioning about everyone in France. I was always amazed by her elephantine memory. After that, Mme. Dulova scolded me because I had disobeyed a career plan that she had suggested for me.
Despite my improvised excuse, she looked at me severely, and none of the reasons I voiced seemed to have value in her eyes. I had erred professionally and she let me know it. In returning to my hotel, I further realized the attachment of this woman who was not content just to teach the harp and the music but felt it her responsibility to go beyond musical considerations. She guided her students to the highest posts in Russia and abroad. I could not escape this rule, and the trip was very intense. Natasha took time to accompany me to museums and splendid churches, and Mme. Dulova arranged a reunion of about 30 students at the Moscow Conservatory for me to meet I was overwhelmed to hear the exceptional talent and deeply moved to be honored by her in this occasion. The day I left, after I had visited St. Basil’s Church situated in Red Square, I made a last visit to Mme. Dulova. Her chauffeur was waiting to take her to her country home. She insisted upon driving me to the airport, and she waved at me the longest time. I suspected then that that would be the last time…