As a soloist, she has worked with a number of internationally renowned orchestras and appeared at many international music festivals.
Hosprova has had solo debut performances in London, Vienna, Paris, Stockholm, Rome, Santiago de Chile, Washington D.C., and New York. “Jitka’s passionate relationship to the viola gives the audience a clear awareness of the existence of this overlooked instrument. She presents fascinating viola literature and inspires composers to create new pieces for this instrument. She is a fascinating artist,” said DeeAnne Hunstein, director of Hunstein Artist Services in New York.
We met the virtuoso for a brief interview at the cozy Maitrea restaurant near tourist-laden Old Town Square in Prague.
Their music is the proof that they lived life to the fullest, and, even though they had limited time, they were creating lively music right to the end. This inspired me so much in my personal life, teaching me to always look on the bright side of life. Pavel Haas wasn’t as lucky as his brother Hugo. He died in the concentration camp.
Perhaps those people, at some point, also felt that this form [of human life] was not entirely final. Thanks to the situation they faced, they left us a great testimony—perhaps greater than some people who have lived their whole lives in peace, tranquility, and prosperity. Those people managed to kind of sweat out at the last moment something amazing. And when one plays their music, one feels closer to them. During my playing, I felt like we lived their story with them.
Everything is the law of vibration. Music is a lot about vibration. One can feel it physically. When you sit in the concert hall, the music starts to resonate with the stage and people have goose bumps on their skin. It is the reaction of the body, which is extremely pleasant, but which is induced by the state of the spirit, a mental state. That’s what music gives me.
Recently, one of my fans wrote me that he had come to the concert at the last minute. He had a terrible day. But eventually he sat down at the concert, and we started to play, and after the performance, he wrote me.
During the concert, he found himself somewhere else. He even solved exactly the blocked issue, which did not work during the day. Suddenly, he enjoyed the wonderful music and saw beautiful scenes. Then he came back to reality and saw that the tragedy was not so terrible.
Classical music has the ability to take the spirit somewhere else for a while. … Because your presence at the concert and the direct contact with an artist will draw you in, and at that moment, the listeners will feel relief. A similar effect may also happen to some extent with popular music.
I would rather not call classical music “classical,” because the classical period was simply the Mozart period. I think it is “noble” music because it can lift us up, and that is the exact content of this type of music.
[But] when you take, for example, Mahler’s symphony that lasts one hour, people are in a positive tension the whole time, and there is still a story which the music can bring to them.
Then, there is another level where we must be liberated from ourselves. Of course, some people do it by taking drugs, for example, in popular music. While in classical music, this approach is unacceptable because you need to control your physical body. … [Otherwise], the audience can easily notice.
We should just open [ourselves] and let the music pass through us. No ideas, such as whether it is going well or wrong, should distract you in the moment of performance. There can only be the craft, and then an open consciousness, which connects to an audience, colleagues, a conductor, or an orchestra, and all of this is suddenly a big organism through which the energy of music flows and then it passes into people.
If there is too much ego involved, the people might call it a great performance, but they will not go home with an uplifted soul. But sometimes, even though you can make a mistake, the music touches the audience. [Or] sometimes the “goose skin” doesn’t show up, even though the musician played well himself, and he cannot understand why. The reason is that the artist’s consciousness was not fully open.
It’s like there is a space above me to where the music is written, and once I connect with this place, I know exactly how it is supposed to be played, and I know that no one will question me, and I will not make a mistake.
Then, when I’m going on the stage, it’s good to get back to that concentration. I often play with my eyes closed, because then it’s a “way up” for me very fast [laughs]. As soon as my eyes are open, it is more difficult to concentrate. When I’m in that deep state of concentration, I’m not even thinking about music, not even what my hands are doing, ... the body just gets the information about how to work so the music is played the way it’s supposed to be.
Everyone who practices meditation knows that this is the state. In this state, what can be created is, as I say, “noble music.”
It is true that this higher principle helps me to solve things in ordinary life. I do not think much about it anymore, and I say, it will somehow work out ... When one reaches this meditative state of mind by means of music, he is actually able to stand up to everyday, routine life. It’s a condition, [for example,] when one comes out of the opera, leaving one in an uplifted state, that all then somehow runs more smoothly.
Then I have had the other experience. I was on holiday last year, and at the place where we stayed was a DJ festival. From 1 p.m. to the evening, every hotel on the beach was full of DJ music. After one week, I returned home deeply depressed. It took me about two days to recover from this anguish. It was hell for me. All the music was just pushing down into the bass tones. I just prayed to get out of there.
It was a bit difficult, but it was a valuable experience. I know now that I will never go into such an environment again, because I was forced to perceive it; I was forced to understand what that might cause. Today’s young people are exposed to it. It was a big lesson for me.
Today, we live in this state, in this situation, and music and artists just reflect our time. We are just a reflection of that. When you visit Berlin’s fine arts galleries from the 1950s, they held something quite different from the paintings of the early century. The Germans went through the war, and many artists felt guilty by what the German people did. It is modernism. There are horrible scenes that one cannot put on the wall. These artists had the need to get this out of their systems. And this is, perhaps, the answer to hard metal music or even to a hip-hop that is associated with beats, aggressive words, and cries of misfortune. People need to get these feelings out of them.
Our time is how it is. But I’m not saying that the only music created nowadays is impossible to listen to. It’s just more complicated, because we are more complicated. But there are still some to choose from. Some composers still follow the line of [Antonin] Dvorak, [and Bohuslav] Martinu ... There are still people who can compose from their hearts.
We can also mention that the instruments were [once] tuned to a lower frequency, that is, 432 Hz. Today we are tuning to a frequency of 440 Hz. The strings are tighter, their vibration is faster, and the sound “harder.”