The 22nd International Viola d’Amore Congress Rheinsberg
Sunday 7 June – A journey into the world of the viola d’amore
By Karin Dolman Netherlands
Traveling from six o’clock in the morning until half past four in the afternoon for a viola d’amore congress, some people might ask: why? But sometimes an instrument fascinates you long before you really know its world.
For many years I knew the viola d’amore mainly as a beautiful but rare instrument. I thought only a handful of musicians still played it, but I was always intrigued by its unique sound, the sympathetic strings, and the almost magical resonance surrounding the instrument.
At a certain moment curiosity became stronger than simply admiring it from a distance, and I asked our good friend, violin maker Kai Thomas Roth, to build a viola d’amore for me.
This instrument became very special. The carved head was made by Kai’s daughterAmelia, who transformed it into Trinculo, the witty character from Shakespeare’s The Tempest. In this way the instrument received not only a voice, but also its own personality.
Still, owning a viola d’amore and really entering the world of the viola d’amore are two different things. Between teaching, performing, composing and organizing, I only found small moments to explore it. I was still looking for a way to understand the instrument more deeply.
Then another chapter started through a very personal story.
My friend Michael Thelen contacted me after the passing of his uncle Willy Thelen, who had been a passionate viola d’amore player and collector of instruments and repertoire. Michael was responsible for taking care of this musical inheritance and asked if my husband Jan van der Elst, also a violin maker, and I could come to Germany to look at the instruments and help the family with an evaluation.
Among the collection were three viola d’amores. The oldest instrument found its way to a museum, while Michael and I bought the other two instruments.
Suddenly I had a possibility I never expected: not only to explore the viola d’amore myself, but also to let students and colleagues experience it. The instrument that I once thought belonged to only a small circle of specialists could now become something I could share.
When I discovered the International Viola d’Amore Society and its congress, it felt like the logical next step. As the new president of the International Viola Society, I knew that first I had to listen, learn and understand this community.
So I travelled to Rheinsberg.
Not as a president.
Not as a teacher.
But as a beginner again.
And that might be one of the most valuable experiences a musician can have.
And so there I was: Rheinsberg, Germany.
The Musikakademie immediately felt like the perfect environment. A beautiful room overlooking the lake, the historic atmosphere of the castle grounds, and a program waiting on my desk. The first days would focus on practicing, lessons and masterclasses, exactly what I needed. For once, I was not arriving as a teacher, organizer or president, but simply as a student discovering an instrument.
The congress gathered around thirty participants. A small number compared with the International Viola Congress, but immediately I felt the advantage: everyone knows each other, conversations start naturally, and knowledge is shared everywhere.
At the first dinner I met Daniele from Italy and Aglaya from Spain. I had already seen Aglaya at the International Viola Congress in Paris, but with hundreds of participants there was hardly time to really talk. Here in Rheinsberg, sitting together at one table, there was finally time to share stories, experiences, and our first steps with the viola d’amore.
Many participants had already spent years with the instrument. I was still explorer.
The evening ended with a wonderful “gemütliches Zusammensein” at Die kleine Italienerin. Over drinks I met a group from America, some of whom had studied in Amsterdam in the early 1980s. They still spoke Dutch and even knew where Dordrecht was!
Walking back to the academy, I passed a large ceramics house. Those who know me know what happened next:
“This is something I have to visit tomorrow!”
Monday 8 June – Mosquitoes, lessons and becoming a student again
I woke up at 5:30 and decided to start the day with a walk around the lake. Unsure about the weather, I took my coat and started walking through the beautiful castle grounds.
The lake looked peaceful. The forest looked inviting.
The mosquitoes clearly agreed.
Halfway around the lake I discovered that stopping was impossible. My trousers and sleeves were covered with them, and eventually I walked with my hood pulled over my head. Suddenly I understood why not everybody was taking romantic morning walks around the lake!
After one and a half hours I finally returned, slightly faster than planned, and decided that buying mosquito protection would become a priority.
After breakfast I had my first viola d’amore lesson with Anna Merkulova. Anna comes from a Russian tradition where viola students of her teacher also learned the viola d’amore, and she shared many practical ideas: how to approach the instrument, how to build programs, and small technical tricks that immediately helped.
It was exactly what I needed: the first steps.
The rest of the morning I practiced.
At home, with only half an hour here and there between teaching, concerts and organizing, it is almost impossible to really enter the world of a new instrument. Here I finally had the time.
In the afternoon I visited the ceramic world together with Daniele and Aglaya. The owner had collected pottery from makers all around the world. I bought some slipware pieces and immediately knew what I wanted to try when returning to my own ceramics workshop.
And then?
More practicing.
Slowly the viola d’amore started to feel less like a mysterious historical instrument and more like a new musical voice.
Tuesday 9 June – Learning, sharing and thinking about the future
The morning started with helping Marianne Rônez-Kubitschek arrange some medication, which involved a little German adventure through doctors and pharmacies.
Afterwards I had a Baroque lesson with Marianne. With her enormous experience she created a wonderful atmosphere, and I enjoyed something I think every teacher should experience regularly:
being a student again.
Later I spent time with Daniele Valabrega, a young Italian viola d’amore player whose curiosity and dedication are inspiring. He travels through Europe, following masterclasses, meeting musicians, studying instruments, repertoire, composers and historical sources.
He absorbs information like a sponge.
We played together, exchanged music through AirDrop, and he tried my Kai Thomas Roth viola d’amore. Hearing someone else play it was a special moment. I was proud of the instrument. It has such a strong and beautiful voice.
Later that day I was invited to join the board meeting of the International Viola d’Amore Society to share some thoughts from my experience with the International Viola Society.
We had a very open and constructive conversation. How can we connect our communities? How can we help each other without losing the unique identity of this extraordinary instrument?
The viola d’amore deserves its own voice.
The evening General Assembly touched on familiar questions: how to reach new generations, how to attract younger players, how to make people aware that this instrument exists.
These questions are not only for the viola d’amore world. They are questions for all musical communities.
But with new leadership and so much passion in the room, I left the evening with a feeling of optimism.
Wednesday 10 June – The congress opens: history, new voices and discoveries
After breakfast I still managed to find twenty minutes of practice time before walking to the castle theatre for the official opening concert of the congress.
Luckily I decided to enter through the main entrance, because outside I found several concert visitors waiting. Apparently nobody had expected an audience from outside the congress, and the door was still closed. After finding someone from the organization, another entrance was opened and everybody could join the concert.
A small reminder that sometimes the most important thing we can do for our instruments is simply to open the doors! Literally and figuratively.
The opening concert started with Georg Philipp Telemann’s Sonata in D major, originally written for viola da gamba and arranged for viola d’amore by Jan Král. Listening to arrangements on the viola d’amore became one of the interesting questions of the week. Which repertoire naturally finds a new voice on this instrument, and which music remains closer to its original source?
For me, the heart of this sonata was the beautiful Recitativo–Arioso. The almost speech-like lines seemed to fit the intimate, human quality of the viola d’amore particularly well.
After the Telemann, it was time for an important moment in the history of the International Viola d’Amore Society: saying goodbye and thank you to Hans Lauerer for his dedication and work in keeping the society alive, and welcoming Cheryl Swoboda as the new president.
The programme continued with Hans Vermeersch from Belgium, who is not only a viola d’amore player, but also a violinist, violist and composer. He performed his own composition Der Herbst (“Autumn”), a work in three movements connected with poetry.
The first movement, Moderato, alternated rhythmic passages with more recitative-like moments. The second movement, Largo, felt almost like a lament, before the piece ended with a more folk-inspired final movement.
There is always something special about hearing composers perform their own music. You hear not only the notes, but also the world behind them.
Simona and Gheorghe Balan from Romania ended the concert with the Duo by Louis Spohr, originally written for violin and viola. It was wonderful to hear this repertoire explored on the viola d’amore. At the same time it raised again the fascinating question of transcription: how does a piece change when the brilliance and projection of one instrument are exchanged for the softer colors and resonance of another?
Between concerts there was finally time for my own practice. Having now a large collection of music on my iPad, I started working on the studies by Aurelia Arcidiacono.
And then the reality appeared.
After a lifetime of playing an instrument tuned in fifths, suddenly entering another tuning system is not easy! The brain knows where the fingers should go, but the instrument politely disagrees.
A wonderful challenge.
The afternoon concert opened with Camille Saint-Saëns’ Sérénade from the Suite for cello and piano. Again, an arrangement that made me think about the identity of the viola d’amore and the repertoire that truly belongs to its voice.
I discovered that although I sometimes questioned arrangements, the original compositions by Jan Král spoke much more naturally to me. His Die Wehmut from 1870 was a lovely song-like piece, beautifully using the qualities of the instrument.
Also Elaine Fine’s Peace for the New Year (2009) showed another side of the viola d’amore. Romantic in language, but written with real understanding of the instrument.
One of my personal discoveries was Václav Nelhýbel’s solo work With Drive – Quite Freely – Like a Cadenza. This performance immediately made me curious to discover the complete Sonata for viola d’amore and piano.
The afternoon ended with Gustavo Díaz-Jerez’s Ricercare in Memory of Dmitri Shostakovich (2006), performed by Cheryl Swoboda with Fabian Liesenfeld at the piano. A strong contemporary work, clearly connected to the sound world of Shostakovich and using the famous DSCH motif.
Another piece added to my growing list of music to explore.
And then: rehearsal time!
After dinner there was, of course, another concert.
I loved discovering the beautiful melodic world of Diego Ortiz’s Tratado de Glosas from the 16th century. This is music I definitely want to find and study.
The youngest participant, Daniele Valabrega, brought us some of the newest repertoire. His passion for contemporary music and the viola d’amore is inspiring.
He performed Bruno Maderna’s Viola d’amore and Georg Friedrich Haas’ Solo. Describing contemporary music in words is always difficult, but especially in the Haas I felt how deeply the composer understood the possibilities of the viola d’amore. The resonance, the space and the colors of the instrument were all part of the musical language.
The evening ended by returning to history: Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber’s Partita in C minor for two viola d’amores and harpsichord.
After a full day of concerts, discoveries, questions, conversations and practice, I decided to skip the cosy evening gathering.
Even a viola d’amore explorer needs some sleep.
Thursday 11 June – Manuscripts, history and the stories behind the notes
After breakfast we gathered for a lecture by Marianne Rônez-Kubitschek about Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber and several works preserved in the Göttweig manuscripts.
The central question of her research was fascinating: could some of these anonymous works actually have been composed by Biber?
Marianne guided us through comparisons with authenticated compositions by the master: looking at musical language, structure, writing style and characteristic details. Of course, with historical research we may never have a final answer, but her arguments opened a convincing window into the possibilities.
And maybe this is also part of the beauty of working with early music. Sometimes we do not only perform the notes, but we become detectives searching for the stories behind them.
The morning concert continued this journey into history with a lecture recital by Jürgen Hinz.
He presented his arrangements of Christian Pezold’s Partitas in A major and F major, including his realization of the continuo part, as well as his work on a violin sonata in F major.
Projects like these remind us how much repertoire still waits in libraries and archives. Sometimes instruments disappear from concert life not because there is no music, but because the music is waiting for someone willing to rediscover it.
After lunch we travelled by bus to Neustrelitz, the former residence city of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.
The region itself breathes musical history. Being in Rheinsberg, walking through the places connected with Frederick the Great and the musicians around him, makes you realize how much chamber music was part of everyday cultural life at these courts.
After some time exploring the town, its harbor and historic centre, we gathered for a concert by Marianne Rônez-Kubitschek and her husband Ernst Kubitschek.
The program brought us back to the Göttweig manuscripts with two anonymous suites. Marianne performed these works on the viola d’amore, bringing the research of the morning directly into sound.
This connection between lecture and performance was very valuable. First we studied the questions; then we heard the music breathe.
For the work of Carlo Ambrogio Lonati, Marianne changed instrument and performed on a violino a cinque corde — a five-string violin with an additional higher string and sympathetic strings. Another fascinating example of how experimental and colorful the string world has always been.
Sometimes we think modern musicians are the ones searching for new sounds, but history shows us that musicians have always experimented.
And in the evening? Yes, another concert!
This time we listened to Simona and Gheorghe Balan performing a work by our own congress participant Hans Vermeersch: The Seven Days of the Week.
Hans combines his own music with his own texts, looking at the week from the perspective of the everyday working person.
A wonderful idea: humorous, recognizable and full of character. Behind the lightness and humor, however, is a piece that requires strong musicianship and communication between performers.
Not easy,… but probably great fun to play.
We ended the evening where many good congress conversations happen: around a table at Die kleine Italienerin.
These informal moments are maybe just as important as the official program. Between concerts, lectures, rehearsals and meals, ideas are exchanged, friendships are created and future projects quietly begin.
And isn’t that exactly why we travel to congresses?
Friday 12 June – From Baroque flowers to the sounds of Africa and Asia
After breakfast we gathered again for a short lecture by Marianne Rônez-Kubitschek.
This time it was not only about manuscripts or composers, but about a very personal story connected with a violin maker who lived in Sofia, told through the memories of the son of the family where he stayed.
Stories like these are important. Instruments are not only wood, strings and varnish. They carry the lives of the people who build them, play them, protect them and pass them on to the next generation.
I hope to make a translation of this touching story, so it can be shared with more people.
After a little more practice time, the morning concert started at 11 o’clock with music by Attilio Ariosti for viola d’amore, soprano and harpsichord.
The song told the story of the queen of flowers: the rose. Proud, beautiful and protected by her thorns, she rises above all other flowers, until, in the end, even the rose has to bow her head for the violet.
A beautiful image, and of course for us viola players and viola d’amore players, we can only smile when the violet receives the final word.
The viola d’amore had a wonderful role in this music. Not only accompanying, but truly becoming a second voice in the story.
The programme continued with Giovanni Battista Toeschi. Born in Germany, he later Italianized his name and became connected with the Mannheim musical world. As a student of Johann Stamitz, you can clearly hear the elegance and virtuosity of this style in his writing.
The sonata, including a cadenza, showed another side of the viola d’amore: not only an instrument of soft colours and resonance, but also one capable of brilliance and expression.
The final piece of the morning was by Jan Král, whose music appeared several times during the congress.
During the week I discovered that although I sometimes had questions about certain arrangements for viola d’amore, his own compositions convinced me much more. They seem to grow naturally from the possibilities and character of the instrument.
His Preghiera for two viola d’amores was a beautiful example: intimate, warm and written with real affection for the sound world of the instrument.
A journey through strings: Africa, Asia and the viola d’amore
The afternoon brought something completely different.
On stage appeared three instruments from three different traditions:
a sitar played by Yogendra,
a kora played by Djelifily Sako,
and the viola d’amore played by Stefanie Sylla.
Suddenly the viola d’amore was no longer only connected to European Baroque music, but became part of a much larger family of instruments where resonance, colour and vibration are central.
The meeting between these instruments felt very natural. All three have a relationship with strings that goes beyond simply producing a melody. The sympathetic resonance, the overtones, the space between the notes — this is where different musical cultures can find each other.
Through improvisations, African and Asian influences, and their own compositions, they showed us another possible future for the viola d’amore.
An instrument with such a long history can still discover completely new landscapes.
The evening concert opened with Walter Jesinghaus.
Born in Genoa, Jesinghaus became a Swiss composer, violist, viola d’amore player and theatre conductor. His Sonata for solo viola d’amore shows a more classical language, with colors that sometimes reminded me of the late Romantic world around Reger.
The movements are compact, expressive and not unnecessarily long. A very interesting addition to the solo repertoire.
After this we returned to the musical world of Rheinsberg itself with Franz Benda.
Benda became, at a young age, one of the musicians surrounding Frederick the Great. Before Frederick became king, he lived here in Rheinsberg, surrounded by an extraordinary musical circle including Benda, his viola-playing brother, and the Graun brothers.
It must have been an amazing artistic environment.
When Frederick moved to Berlin as king, Benda followed him and stayed there for the rest of his life.
Listening to Benda’s Sonata for viola d’amore, cello and harpsichord in Rheinsberg therefore felt special. The music returned to a place connected with its own history.
In the first movement, Hans Vermeersch used the cadenza moment to add a small musical joke, reminding us that historical performance was never meant to be a museum, but a living conversation.
The last piece of the evening was the Sonata in A major for two viola d’amores by Franz Simon Schuchbauer.
Schuchbauer himself was a viola d’amore player, and his knowledge of the instrument can be heard in the writing. The sonata is charming and enjoyable, perhaps not the most revolutionary work of the repertoire, but a valuable part of the history of an instrument that deserves to be heard more often.
Another full day of music ended.
From the rose and the violet, through European courts, all the way to Africa and Asia.
Saturday 13 June – Saying goodbye, looking forward
And then suddenly it was Saturday.
Time to say goodbye.
I tried to change my journey home to Sunday, but unfortunately this turned out to be either impossible or far too expensive. So I decided to prepare myself for another rather Spartan train adventure, starting Saturday evening at 18:30.
But that still gave me one more day in Rheinsberg.
One more day to practice.
One more day to talk.
One more day to exchange addresses, repertoire, ideas and knowledge.
The morning program offered a session with a therapist. These kinds of sessions about body awareness, movement and healthy playing have become an important part of many congresses, and I have joined many of them during my years visiting international events.
This time, however, I decided to choose something else that I needed even more:
time alone with the viola d’amore.
So I wend to my room and continued exploring.
For a professional musician it is a very special experience to become a beginner again. We spend so much of our lives knowing our instrument, trusting our fingers and relying on years of experience. And suddenly there is an instrument that says:
“Not so fast. Listen first. Discover me.”
The viola d’amore asks for another approach. The tuning, the resonance, the sympathetic strings and the different response of the instrument force you to slow down and really listen.
Maybe that is one of the greatest gifts of learning something new.
During the day there were more rehearsals for the final evening concert. Unfortunately, I could not stay for the performance, but I enjoyed listening to the preparations and feeling the energy of everyone working together.
And then it was time to leave Rheinsberg.
My originally planned Spartan train journey home suddenly changed into a much more pleasant adventure. Bow maker André Klaassen from Zutphen offered me a ride back to the Netherlands, which meant that I arrived home around midnight instead of continuing my long journey by train.
André has already attended several viola d’amore congresses and is a familiar face within this community. Several viola d’amore players perform with his bows. At Codarts I also know his work through my cello colleague Jeroen den Herder, who plays with bows made by him.
André creates a wide variety of bows, from historical models to modern bows, always searching for the connection between player, instrument and sound.
The long drive back became another unexpected congress moment. We talked about instruments, musicians, craftsmanship and the world around the viola d’amore.
Maybe that was the perfect ending to the week.
Because in the end, a congress is never only about concerts and lectures. It is about the people who keep music alive: players, composers, researchers, instrument makers and bow makers.
I left with new music, new ideas, new friendships and, maybe most importantly, many new questions.
Reflections on the future
Visiting the 22nd International Viola d’Amore Congress was a wonderful experience.
I arrived as someone who loved the instrument but was still standing at the beginning of the journey. I left with a much deeper understanding of the dedication, research and passion of the people who have kept this instrument alive for so many years.
Without small specialist societies, so much knowledge could disappear.
Manuscripts, forgotten repertoire, playing traditions, instrument building knowledge, they survive because individuals decide that something is worth protecting.
At the same time, every musical society today faces the same question:
How do we connect the next generation?
This is not only a question for the viola d’amore. It is a question for all of us.
One of the strengths of this congress was the openness. Players of different levels could contribute, perform and share their research. The focus was not only on perfection, but on adding something valuable to the knowledge surrounding the instrument.
That is something very precious.
At the same time, I wondered how future congresses could create even more opportunities for exchange. As a beginning viola d’amore player, I would have loved moments where experienced players and newcomers could sit together: discovering tricks, experimenting with sound, learning directly from each other.
Sometimes beginners do not ask because they do not want to disturb. Creating these moments in the program itself could open beautiful connections.
I also reflected on the concert structure. Perhaps future congresses could experiment with different formats: discovery concerts, lecture recitals, workshops, and evening concerts with carefully selected programs representing the highest artistic level of the instrument.
The proposals and artistic vision could help shape the identity of each congress.
One thing I absolutely loved was that we all lived together in the same place.
Breakfast conversations became musical discussions. Dinner became a place for exchanging repertoire. A simple drink in the evening became the beginning of new friendships.
Of course, when a congress grows, this intimacy becomes harder to keep. But maybe the strength of the viola d’amore world is exactly this: connection.
Perhaps the future is not only about becoming bigger.
Perhaps it is about becoming more visible.
A slightly shorter congress format, more focused themes, and stronger connections with young musicians and other string communities could open new doors.
As president of the International Viola Society, I see many possibilities for friendship and collaboration between IVS and IVd’AmS.
Not by changing the identity of the viola d’amore.
The opposite.
By helping more people discover why this instrument is so special.
Because after one week in Rheinsberg I can say one thing for sure:
The viola d’amore is not an instrument from the past.
It is an instrument still waiting for many musicians to fall in love with it.