Behind the Art: Violinist Baiba Skride's star is on the rise
Critics, too, have fallen for her charms. Reviewing her performance of Lalo's Symphonie Espagnole with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, the Washington Post wrote, "Skride was completely unfazed by the work's myriad technical challenges, playing not only proficiently but with flair and a nearly improvisatory freedom."
Mark Swed of the Los Angeles Times praised her recording of Shostakovich's First Violin Concerto as "the most sophisticated performance of the concerto I know." When I meet with Baiba Skride, the day before her October debut at London's Wigmore Hall, she looks very pretty, very relaxed-and very pregnant, with the birth of her first child a scant two months away. Her advanced stage of pregnancy had required her to cancel an autumn US tour, about which she is quite apologetic: "It would be four weeks before the due date. I never cancel anything, but this time I had to cancel!"
With the birth of her son, Emilien, in December, she already has made amends: at press time, she was scheduled to perform the Mendelssohn Concerto with the Minnesota Orchestra in April, the Tchaikovsky with the Oregon Symphony in October, and two Mozart concertos in Detroit in November.
Born in 1981 in Riga, in the small Baltic republic of Latvia, Skride comes from a musical family. She's the second of three girls, all of whom are professional musicians: younger sister Lauma is a pianist and frequent duo partner, while older sister Linda is a professional violist. Their father is a choir conductor and their mother a pianist.
"We got our first introduction to music from my grandmother, who used to teach singing to little kids," Skride says. "She taught us our first song together, we three sisters."
The love of music, especially vocal music, is a vital part of Latvian society, Skride says. She tells me about the 1991 Singing Revolution, during which the Russians were trying to regain control of the Baltic republics. "People were standing in front of [the main buildings in Riga] and singing, not with any weapons or any anger, just using the force of music," she says. "Now, every five years, we have this huge singing festival, where 30,000 people sing together.
"We're living in a total illusion here on earth for better or worse, but whatever is beyond, that's where I'm looking... to the reality behind it all," says George Rhoads (pictured, right). He's talking about his landscape oil & acrylic paintings, his "chosen profession" as he puts it. But isn't he most famous for his huge
of which had languished for years before being completed for this exhibit. (Pictured, left: Lake Afternoon, up for a raffle to benefit CSMA.)


