At age 28, violinist Randall Goosby has already made quite a name for himself. He’s soloed with stellar orchestras, including The Philadelphia Orchestra, the San Francisco Symphony, and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. And on Oct. 10, he will perform Samuel Barber’s Violin Concerto at The Soraya with the London Philharmonic Orchestra (LPO) and Principal Conductor Edward Gardner.
The orchestra will tour the same program to UC Davis’s Mondavi Center the day before, and the violinist will be concertizing in California even earlier, joining Los Angeles-based chamber ensemble Salastina for a performance of Brahms’s piano trios on Oct. 5.
Born in San Diego in 1996 to a Black father and a mother of Korean descent, Goosby began learning the violin at age 7, and by 9, he’d made his debut with the Jacksonville Symphony. At 13, he played with the New York Philharmonic on a Young People’s Concert at Avery Fisher Hall, and that same year, he became the youngest-ever winner of the Sphinx Competition’s junior division. He also received Sphinx’s Isaac Stern Award and was then invited to perform at Carnegie Hall as part of the organization’s Young Artist Development Program.
A protege of violinists Itzhak Perlman and Catherine Cho, Goosby studied at The Juilliard School and is also an alumnus of the Perlman Music Program.
In 2020, Goosby signed to Decca Records, releasing his debut album, Roots, the following year. A tribute to pioneering musicians who paved the way for his generation of young artists, the album also looks to the future with a commissioned work by New Jersey-based composer Xavier Dubois Foley.
SF Classical Voice spoke with the Dallas-based violinist by phone from Vermont, where he was finishing up seven weeks at the Marlboro Music Festival. The conversation ranged from his upcoming appearances with the LPO and his attraction to new music to his mini-obsession with, yes, golf.
Was there music in your family, and why the violin?
Both [of my] parents were big music lovers except for classical music, but once I took up violin, they both got into it, especially my mom.
My mom comes from Japan; she was born and raised there. Everywhere in the world, music education is more of a foundational aspect [than] in the U.S. So when we lived in Jacksonville, she said, “I’m going to make you play an instrument.” Why the violin? I don’t know. If I had to guess, I must have heard it on the radio or seen it on TV. I told my mom I wanted to learn, and she said, “Why?” You know moms.
Obviously, that worked out well. Now let’s talk about your gig at The Soraya with the LPO, with whom you’re playing the Barber Concerto, What’s your attraction to the work?
I certainly was part of the [programming] decision, but I don’t know if it was 100 percent my idea. The way my repertory works is I offer one or two major concertos [from which orchestras can choose]. This season it’s Barber; last season it was [Erich Wolfgang] Korngold’s Violin Concerto. Hopefully, in the coming season, it will be Brahms’s.
Barber — I’m a sucker for anything lyrical and beautiful. It’s such descriptive and expressive music. Each movement [has] stories that are wrapped up in it. It’s always fun to play, especially with an orchestra like the London Philharmonic. I get to unpack all these characters, colors, textures, and doing it four times [in Michigan and New York as well] presents an opportunity to make chamber music with the orchestra.
I understand that you try to avoid the “prodigy” label, but what were some of the lessons that you learned from Itzhak Perlman, whose mentorship has attracted many students who might be considered prodigies?
For the record, I still to this day deny any allegations I was a prodigy. Once I started attending the Perlman Music Program out on Long Island every summer from 2011, there were kids younger than I who were playing major concertos — Sibelius, Tchaikovsky, Brahms.
I arrived there with no chip on my shoulder. It was quite the opposite because there was a chance I wouldn’t belong, that I wouldn’t be good enough — if [program] had fostered a different kind of environment. The Perlmans are passionate about creating a sense of community, camaraderie, where you could give and take in a positive way. It was impactful for me and one reason I decided to keep playing.
One of the first lessons I learned from him is a concept [that] lives close to my heart. I like to pass it on to other musicians. In music pedagogy, there’s a tradition of musicality from technique and the physical side of playing. I subconsciously subscribed to that idea [and] had so many questions for him: “How do you go about executing this bow stroke? What fingering should I use?” After a few questions, he stopped me and said, “Let me ask you a question. What do you feel about music? How does it make you feel inside?” I said, “I don’t have an answer.” He said, “That’s the point of what we do — not to execute technique perfectly but to tell a story, make people feel something. If you don’t feel emotionally affected by what you’re playing, the audience won’t either.”
I’ve given up the idea that playing perfectly is even possible. If you get through [a performance] without making a squeak, your focus wasn’t as much on the emotional content of the piece. That’s the magic of live performance for me; you might feel differently playing the same piece. That’s why people see live music. When you put on a recording, everything will be in place. The chances of getting inside your heart and mind and making you think and feel probably will be less. There’s something to discover in every performance.
Why was it important to include Black composers such as Florence Price and Samuel Coleridge-Taylor on your album Roots, as well as works by Antonín Dvořák and George Gershwin, rather than more standard violin fare?
As much as it was my debut album and a breakout for me, it was really a passion project, a healing project. At the end of 2020, we hadn’t come to terms with COVID and the Black Lives Matter movement. … I spent the pandemic with my family at home but was constantly barraged by news — on social media, on TV — seeing heartbreaking instances of violence and racism.
I felt powerless. I tried to do Facebook Live concerts in solidarity, but after so many of those, I started to think it was more for me than anyone else. I was stumped [as to] how I could make an impact doing what I love in the field I’m in. The timing was perfect. Decca reached out, and I eagerly said yes.
After negotiations, we tried to figure out my debut album. “We want to tell your story, introduce you as a human being. Do you have any ideas?” they asked. A light bulb had gone off: This is how I can make some kind of an impact for my culture, my heritage. That was the inspiration. Dvořák and Gershwin, the point of including them [was that] they were not the creators of the kinds of music that they wrote. They were inspired by music that already existed.
This was central to the cultural landscape of America. A vast majority of American music stems from Black music, spirituals, blues, jazz. Native American folk melodies inspired Dvořák, especially once he came here [to the U.S.]. The point wasn’t just to pay homage and give respect to a few Black composers but also to show there are connections between lesser-known music, composers, backgrounds and those we [already] hold high that are essential to the landscape.
Since you commissioned Xavier Dubois Foley’s Shelter Island for the album, you’re obviously drawn to new music. What is its appeal for you?
I’m drawn to music I feel I can relate to on an emotional and a cultural level. These days, new music that excites me really does tell a story. Music has gone in so many directions at this point in time and history that I approach new music [the same way that I approach] mainstream classical music — if I don’t vibe with the piece or feel something inside, I’m glad I had the opportunity to hear it, but I’m not going to engage with it.
I seek out music that tells stories and is accessible. A lot of new music, to put it bluntly, is noise, a collection of sounds that if you heard the sounds individually, you wouldn’t think of them as music. It’s a personal thing [not to like it].
And contra John Cage! In any case, I’m wondering what advice you might have for aspiring violinists?
Make sure that whatever you’re doing — music, math, cooking, learning to be an electrician — the important thing is that you love what you do. Not enough [people] think this is really possible, but I’ve been doing something I love for my whole life. It makes everything around work that much more fun — and you can share it with other people.
I’ve seen your Instagram posts, and you’re not shy about showing off your golf swing. So what’s your handicap?
It’s eight even. Golf — I’m not a natural, and I don’t think I have an ounce of talent for the game. But I’ve got a bit of an addictive personality. With music, I’m into nerding out over details, little minutiae. With golf, there’s plenty of room for that. When I was young and still learning how to get around my instrument, I always had something else I could pour myself into — video games, basketball.
Then once I got to Juilliard, I was a CrossFit addict, six days a week, but it was a little too expensive for my student budget. A few years later, I got into golf, [which] gives me the opportunity to be outside. It’s a big part of my life actually. The other thing that I like to do: I’m a big foodie.
