Finns grieve a fallen leader

The Finnish music world has been shocked by the sudden death of Eriikka Maalismaa, a former concertmaster of the Helsinki Philharmonic, at the age of 44. Eriika was more than just a leader of orchestras. She was a pioneer of new music and a campaigner for social justice. Although she sometimes freelanced abroad with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, she was little known outside Finland. But within that country Eriikka was looked up to as a beacon of musicality, intelligence and progress.

Here is a tribute by Aleksi Barrière, son of the late Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho and of the French composer Jean-Baptiste Barrière. Aleksi, a writer and stage director, worked with Eriika on a number of productions. Read on:

There once was a violinist, ERIIKKA MAALISMAA (1980-2024), who in Finland and beyond was an inspiration to many in defining what musicianship is in the contemporary world. She created a career that felt like a curated whole, through initiatives and collaborations, and also by somehow consistently showing up in places where exciting music was being made. Versatility, independence, craftswomanship, but also character and humor are some of the words that have been used to describe her.

Our paths crossed a few times on stage, but the last occurrence will never stop being memorable to me: four months ago we did this show intertwining Davies’ “Eight Songs for a Mad King” and Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time,” and so, as the former work demands, a rather important part of the ending was Eriikka’s violin being taken from her hands and violently smashed to pieces.

But in this version, after everyone else had left the stage, Eriikka recovered/resurrected the broken violin to perform Messiaen’s final meditation on Jesus’ immortality, eight minutes of post-apocalyptic luminescence. It felt like music could redeem something after all, and in that instant she was music incarnate. Theatrics were over, Eriikka stood in the dark and deserted church where this was taking place, and simply made us experience the power and timelessness of a floating, chiseled musical line over the discrete, grounding chords Kirill Kozlovski played on the piano.

This moment of bare artistry, that had the apparent lightness of ease and yet the kind of depth of expression that can only be earned, is the last thing I heard Eriikka play. Hopefully, in the wake of her untimely passing, we will be treated with many recorded memories of her playing, and we should pass them on so everyone knows such a musician has existed. How odd, though, that there will not be more. Kiitos Eriikka …

The Sibelius Academy teacher Keval Shah adds:

Life will simply never feel the same again. Words are not enough to convey your brilliance, your sparkle, wit, courage, vision, absolute fearlessness, to say nothing of your exquisite musicianship. You were, and will continue to be, such an inspiration to me, embodying as you did the ideals of a true artist: genuinely creative, passionate, daring, brave enough to fight for what is right, and to never give in to the fluff and fickleness of anything to do with the ‘industry’. In my eyes, everything you did was about music, people, community and the possibility of a better, more just, future. That future seems, in this immediate moment, so much less bright without you, but your legacy will live on through so many people who loved you, and who have breathed in something of the magic of being in your presence. I know that my work will certainly bear your imprint, as a constant reminder of the things that matter most.