Sometimes, a year seems to unfold quietly… and then suddenly, you look back and realize how much life has been lived in just a few months.

Since January, my world has been filled with music, stories, people. And, perhaps unexpectedly, clay.
The year began in Paris, at the 50th International Viola Congress, a gathering that once again reminded me why the viola community feels like a global family.
This particular congress carried a special moment for me: receiving the Silver Alto Clef Award.
An honour that I accept with deep gratitude. Not only as a personal recognition, but as a reflection of the many collaborations, friendships, and shared passions that have shaped my musical life.
Raiders of the Lost Tone
At the heart of the congress stood a project very close to me: Raiders of the Lost Tone.
A music theatre piece where storytelling, imagination, and the viola come together. A group of young adventurers travels through time and congress history in search of something we all secretly pursue: the tone.
What made it truly special was not just the performance itself, but the collective energy, students, professionals, colleagues, all contributing to a living, breathing work.
And the story continues: a beautiful recording of Raiders of the Lost Tone is now in the making. I’m excited that this project will soon have a life beyond the stage.
New Programs, New Stories
Music never stands still and neither do I.
- Together with Caecilia Boschman, I am preparing Sueños Españoles: a program inspired by Spanish colors, rhythms, and imagination. Music that dances, sings, and sometimes whispers of distant landscapes.
- With colleagues and students, Strangers in the North explores another world entirely—northern soundscapes, raw, poetic, and introspective. A project that reminds me how inspiring it is to work alongside the next generation of musicians.
- And in June, the Pelgrim Trio presents a new program: Melancholie. A musical landscape where melancholy is not something heavy, but something that opens space. Space for beauty, memory, and quiet intensity.
A Hidden Life in Clay
And then… there is another world.
Perhaps less visible, but equally meaningful.
At Pottenbakkerij Hof 3, you will find me every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday afternoon, working with clay.
Here, time moves differently.
No rehearsals, no deadlines, just hands, material, and the quiet search for form.
I make objects for daily use, always with a small artistic twist. Cups, bowls, plates; things meant to be touched, held, and lived with.
In many ways, it is not so different from music. It is about shaping something intangible into something that can be shared.
Looking Ahead
If there is one thing these past months have shown me, it is this:
Music is never just about sound.
It is about connection. About curiosity. About creating something that did not exist before. Whether on stage, in a rehearsal room, or even on a potter’s wheel.
And I have the feeling… this year is only just beginning.


