It was while hearing a performance of Mahler’s enormous work as a child that Barnewitz fell in love with both Mahler and the horn. Now 51, and diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease nearly a decade ago, it will be the last piece he plays with the MSO.
“I’ve had nearly 10 years to think about this and I’ve been able to mourn it,” he said. “More than anything now, I feel relief in not having the pressure to perform under physical duress any more.”
Part of coming to terms with the illness and the end of his horn career was acknowledging that he was playing individual pieces of music for the last time, which he said brought up mixed feelings.
“With some pieces I would think, ‘This is a bonus – it’s the last time I’ll ever have to play that.’ But about 10% of the music we play I just adore and will miss terribly,” he said. “It’s been very hard, knowing I won’t play those pieces again.”
In Mr. Barnewitz’s case, he didn’t have a choice. An illness like his can be just devastating. I feel so for him.
But isn’t it interesting to read about the “This is a bonus…”? I completely understand. There are some pieces that I would miss horribly, but there are some works I’m delighted to say goodbye to. In the past there have been works that I’ve vowed I will never play again. Sometimes this is because I don’t like the piece, and sometimes it’s because I don’t like the stress. Some might think that I would be happy to say goodbye to huge solos like Ravel’s Piano Concerto, but that work, while huge, gives me a lot less discomfort than something like, say, Mahler’s fourth.
To have one’s career taken away due to injury or disease isn’t the way we hope to resign. To be told we should resign is also no way to go either. I think we all hope to resign on our terms, while still in good form and good health. Sadly it doesn’t always go the way we wish.
But sometimes things change, and sometimes good things do happen. Here’s a story about a singer who would have died without her double lung transplant:
Pretty darn amazing.
