Steven Isserlis

I have rarely seen such grieving as I’m seeing/hearing now at the loss of Rita Wagner/Rados. ‘How can it be possible?’ is the question on everyone’s lips. She WAS life! So full of joy, of celebration, of music, full – above all – of love, with her infectious giggle never far from the surface, her whole body radiating whatever emotion was possessing her at that moment.

I’ve been trying to remember the first time I met Rita, but I can’t. All I remember is that I – like so many others – was surprised by her. By that time I had already known the Rados’s somewhat older compatriots and friends, the Kurtags, for some time; Marta Kurtag was like the other half of Gyorgy, sitting in on every session I had with him, knowing every note of his music seemingly as well as he did, her whole aura matching his perfectly. My first impression of Rita was quite different; it appeared at first glance that she was utterly unlike her husband, Ferenc Rados – he so (outwardly) gloomy and introspective (can one be outwardly introspective?), she so girlish, bouncy and enthusiastic. It was only later that I came to realise that the Radoses also were two parts of a whole, bound not just by their extraordinary love for each other, but by a shared set of musical and personal values that, as well as influencing everyone around them, bound them ever closer together.

It was many years ago that Rita started to be a regular at Prussia Cove seminars, listening to her husband teach, becoming close to many of the participants, radiating pleasure in the music, the place, the people. But then one year, having heard from so many Hungarian friends about her marvellous teaching in Budapest, I asked her (as I remember) to stand in for Rados when he was unable to come. To say that she was a hit would be an understatement; she was simply adored. Her ideals and aims as a teacher were similar to Rados’s, of course; but her delivery was utterly different, encouraging with praise where he would be sarcastic, jumping for joy when a student responded well. (I should point out that his sarcasm is just a mode of delivery; anyone who understands him at all knows that his words and laugh are just teaching tools, not meant unkindly; his purpose is exactly the same as hers – to help the student come closer to the music. He just uses a different vocabulary…!) Later, they gave joint classes, which worked brilliantly, the students getting even more out of the shared classes than they had out of the single ones. There was at times a sense of ‘good cop – bad cop’, he grumbling, she enthusing; but it was mostly an act – and she was quite capable of being as furious as he could be, if she felt that a player was using the music for his or her own purposes rather than for the composer’s.

I have many times enjoyed imitating a typical instance of their double act, which occurred after a recital Denes Varjon and I gave in Budapest a few years ago. (I even made a video of my imitation, and sent it to the Radoses – I THINK they were amused!) The two of them came backstage after the concert, she leaping joyously, he shuffling along, looking down at the ground, as usual. She pointed at him. ‘HE liked the Beethoven! HE liked the Beethoven!” she shrieked exultantly. (Very rare for him to like anything! Or at least to admit it…) There was a pause, during which he continued to study the floor gloomily. Then his head came up, wreathed in smiles. ‘Ah – but the Schumann I didn’t like!’ he crowed triumphantly. Haha. (Neither Denes nor I, knowing Rados so well, were the slightest bit offended, of course – we found it hilarious. SO typical.)

Rita will be so much missed as a musician, for her seemingly limitless flow of inspiration, kindness, insight, wisdom, knowledge – what an artist! (Alas, she refused ever to play in a concert, because of nerves – a pity for us.) But as a person, the loss is even more devastating. Her presence utterly transformed any place to which she went; having her nearby made the world seem so much better, happier a place. (Almost the only time her face would look tense was when she was worrying about the health of her beloved Rados. She told a friend that she dreaded ever being without him; I don’t think it ever occurred to her that he would survive her. Now it’s happened…)

Her departure makes me want to be a better person, so that I make it to heaven! I know that if I do get there, she will be among the first to greet me, skipping towards me, enveloping me in one of her warm, squishy, lovely hugs, shrieking out my name – as it happened every year at Prussia Cove, and in other places. Meanwhile, though, we left behind in this world have lost a radiant light – one that can never be replaced. Farewell to an utterly wonderful, glorious woman.