Among the newspaper clippings I recently rediscovered was this article about the very beginning of my duo with pianist Caecilia Boschman. During our studies at the Rotterdam Conservatory, our teachers suggested that we should play together. A decision that turned out remarkably well. We gave our first concerts in 1992, and this article, published in 1993, captures a moment when we were preparing for international competitions while organising our own concerts. More than thirty years later, we are still performing together and continue to explore the viola and piano repertoire with the same curiosity and enthusiasm.
Two musicians from Dordrecht, violist Karin Dolman (25) and pianist Caecilia Boschman (27), will give a concert on Saturday evening, 13 March, at Het Dordtse Hof.
“We would like the people of our hometown to get to know our music,” says Karin. “We organised the concert entirely ourselves, and we’re almost sold out. If we manage to sell the last thirty tickets, we’ll break even, thanks in part to the support of our sponsors.”
Karin and Caecilia were brought together musically by a teacher at the Rotterdam Conservatory. Caecilia has already graduated, while Karin hopes to complete her studies later this year.
To gain experience, they previously gave a number of living-room concerts in Dordrecht. Earlier this month, they also took part in a chamber music competition in Tilburg, together with five other ensembles from Belgium and the Netherlands.
“We’re still waiting for the results, so it’s all rather exciting,” Karin says.
And next week, more precisely, on 18 March, the two musicians will travel to Vierzon, France, where they will compete in an international competition for string players and pianists.
“There will be duos from all over the world,” says Karin, convinced that the competition in Vierzon will be a serious challenge. “But it’s already wonderful just to be part of it.”
At Het Hof, Karin and Caecilia will perform works by Brahms, Glinka and Martinů. Not only are the two young musicians from Dordrecht, but Karin’s viola was also built by Dordrecht violin maker Jan van der Elst.
While clearing out my music room, I keep coming across small pieces of my musical past. Among them are concert programs, newspaper clippings and reviews that I had almost forgotten about.
This review dates from my years at the Rotterdam Conservatory, after a performance of Richard Strauss’s Don Quixotewith the Conservatory Symphony Orchestra. Reading it now, I am reminded not only of that particular concert, but also of the atmosphere of those years: building an orchestra, discovering repertoire, and learning the craft of making music together.
Some memories return unexpectedly, not because they are nostalgic, but because they reveal part of the journey that has shaped who I am as a musician today.
Rotterdam – For many years, the Rotterdam Conservatory had to do without its own symphony orchestra. Usually this was simply because there were not enough students to form one, and occasionally because the available musicians did not yet meet the required standard. In recent years, however, determined efforts have been made to overcome this situation, now entirely through the conservatory’s own resources—that is, with an orchestra made up exclusively of its students.
Last night, the orchestra gave its annual end-of-year concert in De Doelen, providing an excellent opportunity to evaluate what a year of intensive work had achieved.
The programme was an ambitious one, centred on Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote. Already in the opening work, Wagner’s Overture to Der fliegende Holländer, the orchestra’s strengths and weaknesses became apparent. The violin section, small in number, struggled to balance the powerful brass section and was at times almost overwhelmed. The lower strings were also disproportionately large, making the violins sound even thinner by comparison.
Added to this were the violinists’ difficulties in playing the rapid passages with precision and unanimity—a weakness that became even more apparent under the musical “magnifying glass” of Don Quixote. Clearly, there is still much work to be done in this area. In other words, the violin department has not yet reached the level required to compete within the demands of orchestral performance.
The wind section, however, told a different story. In particular, the principal oboe and principal clarinet delivered flawless performances.
In Vaughan Williams’s Concerto for Tuba and Orchestra, featuring a brilliant solo performance by tubist Arjan Stroop, the orchestra played a less prominent role. Yet in the typically English romantic passages, the ensemble occasionally indulged in overly sentimental playing. Despite the increasing number of mistakes as the concert progressed, it nevertheless became clear that the foundation for a fine orchestra has now been laid.
Most encouraging of all was the discovery of violist Karin Dolman, who performed the viola solo in Strauss’s Don Quixote and revealed herself as an outstanding talent. She possesses a rich, warm tone that blended far more naturally into the orchestral texture than the cello playing of Herre-Jan Stegenga in the same work.
Great Hall, De Doelen – Rotterdam Conservatory Symphony Orchestra conducted by Arie van Beek. Soloists: Arjan Stroop (tuba), Karin Dolman (viola), Herre-Jan Stegenga (cello). Works by Wagner, Vaughan Williams and Strauss. Heard on 25 June; repeated the following evening at the Beurs van Berlage, Amsterdam.
One work on the programme immediately brought back a vivid memory: Fratres by Arvo Pärt.
I had heard the piece on the radio shortly before my exam and was immediately fascinated by it. Today, Fratres is one of Pärt’s best-known works, but in 1991 it was still unfamiliar to many musicians. Although it had been composed in 1980, it certainly wasn’t a standard choice for a conservatory examination.
I remember telling my violin teacher, Václav Novák, that I wanted to include it in my exam programme. He was rather sceptical at first. A contemporary piece for such an important examination was not an obvious choice. But as we worked on it together, he began to appreciate the piece as much as I did, and in the end he fully supported the idea.
Looking at the programme now, another detail catches my eye. The cover was drawn by my mother. She enjoyed drawing and designing, and I had almost forgotten that she had made this little illustration for my exam. It is a small reminder that music and creativity were always present at home, each in their own way.
The programme itself reflected the journey I was making as a young violinist: Bach, Mozart, Schubert and Brahms, ending with the quiet, timeless sound world of Arvo Pärt. Looking back, it was perhaps an early sign that I was always drawn to music that explored new colours and new ways of expression.
While looking through old newspaper clippings, I recently came across a wonderful article about a musical evening at the Willem de Zwijger College in Papendrecht, where both of my parents were teachers. The event brought together teachers and students for an “unplugged” evening of live music, long before that word became fashionable.
My father, Wim Dolman, taught German, while my mother, Irmel Dolman, taught arts and crafts. Together they performed folk-inspired music. My father on accordion and my mother on violin. According to the newspaper, the audience enthusiastically joined in, creating an atmosphere that made the evening a great success.
After the interval, my father returned to the stage alone. Besides being a teacher and amateur filmmaker, he also loved cabaret and performing his own humorous songs. The article describes how he had the audience laughing and singing along with one of his comic chansons. Proof that entertaining an audience was something he genuinely enjoyed.
Looking back, it is perhaps not surprising that both my brother and I eventually chose a life in music. We grew up in a home where making music was simply part of everyday life, not only practicing and listening, but also sharing it with others from the stage.
Finding this article feels like discovering another small piece of the family story. It reminds me that the joy of performing has been present for generations.
PAPENDRECHT – On Thursday evening, Willem de Zwijger College went “unplugged.” Students and teachers, each deserving the label of true professionals, joined forces in a musical program in which amplifiers were nowhere to be seen. It is difficult to say who was the highlight of the evening. Was it Maren Slieker, whose performance of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude sent shivers down the audience’s spine? Was it the teaching couple Wim and Irmel Dolman, performing folk-inspired music? Or was it the boogie-woogie playing teacher Cees de Bruijn?
Not to mention the student group Bacon & Beans, who performed without amplification for the first time, presenting both their own music and lyrics, along with many other talented performers.
Driving Force The organiser and driving force behind this musical celebration, music teacher Willem van de Graaf, deserves every compliment. There was no shuffling of chairs, as the musical spectacle took place in the theatre. The audience was treated to a varied programme ranging from Brahms to percussion demonstrations, all performed by an equally diverse group of musicians.
Atmosphere The evening opened with the school’s Big Band, immediately creating a lively atmosphere. The mood became even more festive when Wim Dolman, teacher of German, and his wife Irmel, teacher of arts and crafts, took the stage armed with an accordion and violin respectively. As soon as the music became more spirited, the audience enthusiastically joined in by clapping and drumming along, prompting Mrs Dolman to remark afterwards: “We have a very musical audience.” And indeed, the school certainly did not lack musical talent.
Concerts Willem van de Graaf explained: “Most of these students have had lessons with me, so you quickly notice when someone has real talent. But of course, the students themselves deserve the credit. We’ve organised lunchtime concerts before, but this surpasses everything. Everything is running smoothly, and judging by tonight’s success, there may well be a sequel.”
After the interval, Wim Dolman returned to the stage, this time on his own. He showed that his musical talents extended beyond folk music with a humorous cabaret performance. His comic song, ‘Oh, Oh, What a Fuss, She Fell in Love with Her Father’s Coachman,’ not only had the audience laughing, but soon everyone was enthusiastically singing along with the refrain. The Big Band, which had opened the evening, also brought the successful musical programme to a close.
Sometimes inspiration comes from the most unexpected places. While digitising a family film from 1968, I rediscovered something that struck me as a violist and educator: the soundtrack was not written down. It was improvised.
The music was created by Wouter Blacquière, then a young teacher and musician, who improvised freely on familiar Dutch children’s songs while watching the film. His spontaneous playing follows every movement, every smile, every little discovery of a curious child exploring the world.
Watching it reminded me that improvisation was once a natural part of being a musician. Long before we became so dependent on the printed page, musicians created, reacted, listened and invented in the moment.
Perhaps we should encourage our students to do this more often. Improvisation develops listening, imagination, confidence and musical freedom, qualities that enrich every performer, whatever instrument they play.
Sometimes a journey begins not at the destination, but at home, in a place where ideas take shape and music starts to breathe.
On Friday May 1st, in the beautiful setting of the Trinitatiskapel in Dordrecht, we presented a special concert as a preview of our upcoming trip to the Norwegian Viola Festival. Together with Santiago Velo, Viola Koopman, and Paultje Klerx, I had the pleasure of sharing a program that will soon travel north with us.
This evening was more than just a concert. It was a glimpse into a creative process. A moment where preparation meets performance. We invited the audience into our rehearsal world: exploring repertoire, shaping sound, and discovering how these pieces begin to connect as a larger musical story.
The concert was recorded by RTV Dordt, allowing this moment to reach beyond the walls of the chapel and to be shared with a wider audience.
Now, with this warm Dordrecht send-off behind us, we look ahead to the Norwegian Viola Festival. There, we will join colleagues and violists from across the world, Exchanging ideas, performing, teaching, and continuing the ever-evolving conversation around our instrument.
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.
My Musical Journey with Orchest-Vereeniging Dordrecht
I first joined Orchest-Vereeniging Dordrecht when I was just fifteen years old, playing in the second violin section (at a time when the hierarchy within the orchestra was still very visible). By the age of eighteen I was appointed concertmaster, a position I proudly held for three years.
When I turned twenty-one, however, I decided to follow another musical passion: the French horn. Since then, I have been playing in the horn section, at the back of the orchestra, every Wednesday evening, a routine that has become an inseparable part of my life.
This year marks my 43rd season with the orchestra. Over the decades, I have played under seven of the nine conductors who have led the ensemble since its founding in 1883. That doesn’t mean I am that old, but it does show how deeply rooted this orchestra is in my life and in the city of Dordrecht.
A Historic Orchestra
The Orchest-Vereeniging Dordrecht is one of the oldest amateur symphony orchestras in the Netherlands. It was founded on December 21, 1883, with Willem Kes as its first conductor. Kes would go on to establish the famous Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam just five years later.
The orchestra’s very first concert took place on April 3, 1884, with works by Beethoven, Mozart, Berlioz, and Mendelssohn. Since then, Orchest-Vereeniging has welcomed renowned soloists, premiered works, and played an important role in the cultural life of Dordrecht. Today, about 50 dedicated musicians come together every Wednesday evening to rehearse, and the orchestra presents three concerts each year.
Why I Keep Coming Back
For me, music is much more than a hobby. Playing in an orchestra means listening, responding, and building something greater together. Each rehearsal and each performance is a new challenge, a fresh inspiration, and a reminder of the joy of making music with others.
Through all these years, I have seen repertoire evolve, conductors come and go, new members join, and long-standing friends move on. But one thing remains: the magic of Wednesday evenings when notes on a page transform into sound, energy, and shared experience.
Article about latest concert together with Pianist Lauretta Bloomer
Silence broken in the Trinitatiskapel – and with the strings of a viola and piano, that’s no punishment…
25 August 2025 • 18:20 by Jacques Malschaert
DORDRECHT – Sometimes I wonder what attracts me more: silence, or music that fills the space. This was the question I asked myself the moment I exchanged the silence of my living room for a promising musical evening in the Trinitatiskapel. My bike ride there served as a fitting buffer and a good opportunity to think it over a little longer. The immediate reason for these reflections was the title of the recital by violist and musical all-rounder Karin Dolman and pianist Lauretta Bloomer: Silence Broken. The ride was too short to really explore every facet of that question. I promised myself I’d take more time for it in the coming days… but first, the music.
Karin Dolman and Lauretta Bloomer
Faithful visitors to chamber music concerts in Dordrecht, of course, know Karin Dolman: an enthusiastic, energetic advocate for chamber music and especially the viola repertoire. Together with like-minded musicians she seeks out works that are rarely (or never) recorded. Not just out of curiosity. Her mission is to discover new repertoire, among other things to inspire new generations of musicians and listeners.
I haven’t been back living in Dordrecht, my birthplace, for very long, and I keep discovering new musicians from the region. This time it was Lauretta Bloomer, who matches Karin Dolman’s energy and enthusiasm in every respect. Lauretta has been living in Sliedrecht for about a year, where she teaches advanced piano students. After studies in London and Vienna and performances all over the world, she settled in the Netherlands, where she became a much sought-after pianist. “I love playing chamber music best, and always together.”
Unknown works
In the Trinitatiskapel, Karin Dolman and Lauretta Bloomer broke the silence with music that was both unknown and surprising to me. In many areas of life, the saying “unknown makes unloved” applies – and so it is in music. We often listen to familiar repertoire by the great composers. But just as often, when we encounter new music, we discover there is so much more that can touch and move us.
Friday evening’s program included works by four relatively unknown English composers. One of the fascinating things about my writing is that, especially after a concert, I go in search of the background of what I have heard and seen. Naturally, I go online and usually find a lot of useful information. I like to combine such a deep dive with searches through my own bookshelves, and I spend days listening again to the music performed, making detours into related repertoire. And yes, the General Music Encyclopedia I bought decades ago is still a valuable reference.
Sadly, there is no entry there for William Lloyd Webber. His son Andrew, of course, is well known, from Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita… But father William also had great talent. He wrote his sonatina for viola and piano when he was only 20 years old. A short but warm and melodic piece in the spirit of English Romanticism.
Silence was truly broken with the Sonata by Alan Rawsthorne (1905–1971). My encyclopedia is brief and points to influences from the French neo-classicists… This sonata for viola and piano dates from 1937, a youthful work – and you can hear that. The energy leaps out. For Karin and for Lauretta it was a wonderful opportunity to show every facet of their musicianship: virtuosic, energetic, deeply resonant, and also melancholy. I am especially fond of that melancholy, where music seeks stillness. The viola, like the cello, is the perfect instrument for that. In Rawsthorne’s sonata I found this quality in the third movement, the Adagio.
The third English composer of the evening, Howard Ferguson (1908–1999), didn’t compose much; he was primarily a teacher and musicologist. His Four Short Pieces were originally written for clarinet and piano. Ferguson himself prepared a version for viola and piano. Of the four pieces, it was the third, Pastoral, that stayed with me. Unfortunately, in my online searches I could not find a recording of the viola-and-piano version. But I did find the clarinet version, which was more than worth hearing. I can recommend everyone to do a little exploring – you stumble on so many treasures! The great risk, though, is that you get lost in that enchanted forest and can’t find your way out again. Not so bad, really, because during my wanderings I discovered even more beautiful combinations of viola with piano and clarinet.
Fortunately, I found my way back in time, otherwise I would have missed the fourth composer of the evening, Sir Arnold Bax (1883–1953). His sonata for viola and piano, dating from 1922, was the oldest work on the program. Bax was inspired by Celtic and Irish mythology and reveals himself as a true British late-Romantic. My music encyclopedia says that alongside Vaughan Williams, Bax was the finest English symphonist. I’m not in a position to confirm or deny that – I’m too little versed in the richness of English classical music – but the performance was certainly energetic and melodious.
Silence
My weekend was again filled with wonderful sounds, beginning Friday evening in the Trinitatiskapel, followed by a couple of days of chamber music in my own living room. Once again, I now close all music channels for a while to seek silence – silence that, even in music, is sometimes more important than the notes themselves. One cannot exist without the other.
Heard in the Trinitatiskapel, Friday 22 August:
Silence Broken, recital by Karin Dolman, viola, and Lauretta Bloomer, piano
Music by William Lloyd Webber, Alan Rawsthorne, Howard Ferguson, and Arnold Bax
For a while, I thought I’d lost this CD. It was our very first one with the DoelenKwartet, recorded in October 2000 at the initiative of the Vereniging Vrienden van het Rotterdams Philharmonisch Orkest and Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen. A precious collaboration and an unforgettable start.
I still remember I was ill the week before the sessions, we almost had to cancel. But thankfully we didn’t. Listening back now, I’m proud of what we captured. The energy, the focus, the love for the music…. it’s all there.
And a lovely detail: both Frank de Groot, our first violinist, and I played on instruments made by my husband, Jan van der Elst.
The CD is no longer available in shops. Sharing it here on my website feels like the best way to preserve and celebrate that special moment in time.
