B Y - A L E X - C R E V A R
P H O T O S - B Y - P E T E R - F R E Y

The UGA music professor and his six-foot wooden dance partner, the lowest-pitched member of the violin family, form one of the rarest entities in music—a symphony double bass soloist.

he lights dimmed in the United Nations General Assembly Hall in New York City on Sept. 25. Usually reserved for discussions of global politics, the room had been transformed into a concert hall for a program filled with international masters. An array of top orchestral talent had energized the crowd for this moment, the grand finale, which featured UGA music professor and double-bassist extraordinaire Milton Masciadri.

The program, performed for the entire United Nations staff, was a fund-raiser for the children of 81 U.N. staff members killed in the line of duty. Among the dead was a UGA graduate, Valentin Krumov (PhD '99), who was killed in Kosovo on his first day as a volunteer peacekeeper.

"These musicians lend their names and talents so that brave staff members are remembered and their children are cared for," said Mehri Madarshahi, president of the U.N. Staff Council, before Masciadri took the stage to play a duet with Croatian violinist Ino Mirkovic.

asciadri is a maestro. He is, in many ways, also a traditionalist; his lineage, his style, and his tastes have all been honed with classical training. What stands between Masciadri and orthodoxy is his six-foot wooden dance partner, the double bass. Together, he and his musical accomplice, the lowest-pitched member of the violin family, form one of the rarest entities in music—a symphony double bass soloist.

Masciadri enjoys another distinction. As one of only 13 U.N. "Artists for Peace," he is a global musician who is periodically asked to play benefits for the U.N.'s cultural arm, UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization).

The Sept. 25 benefit in New York included musicians from all over the world—Russia, India, Croatia, Japan, South Korea, Armenia, and North and South America—but Masciadri and Mirkovic were the only U.N. "Artists for Peace" on the program.

"Milton is a fine example of what a UNESCO artist should be," said Mirkovic, who organized the event and performed Bottesini's "Grand Duo for Violin, Double Bass and Strings" with Masciadri. "His virtuosity is amazing and his name recognition around the world makes his music even more special. When people follow your music, they follow your ideas—and then can follow your message. We don't represent Croatia or the U.S. We represent all the countries of the United Nations. Our music and our quest for world peace knows no borders."

Masciadri pays little attention to borders. Of Italian lineage, he was born in Uruguay and moved to Brazil when he was 11. By the time he was 19, his name was household amongst symphony aficionados in South America. At 20, he was studying double bass in the U.S., and in just a few years he has become the most in-demand double bassist in the world. He averages one major performance a week and makes 20 international trips a year to play with top orchestras. At 24, he had created and was running UGA's bass program.

Sound busy? Masciadri is used to it.

His grandfather was a founding member of the Uruguayan National Symphony and his father was the principal bassist of the Porto Allegre Symphony in Brazil. As a third-generation double bassist, the relationship between the instrument and life was inherent—even if his father did try to warn him away from it, as he now attempts to do with his own eight-year-old son, who is studying the cello.

"I was stubborn," says Masciadri of his boyhood love for the double bass. "My father tried to discourage me from playing it because he knew how hard it can be and the problems I would face. Everything is a struggle with the double bass. When I get on planes, I have to lie and say it is a cello. Airlines have rules against basses because they are so big.

"But I wanted to do something different with it. I wanted to play it solo. I always knew this is what I would do. But as I tell my son, 'It's much easier to carry a flute through the airport.'"

Masciadri came to the U.S. to study at the Hartford School of Music under the most famous double bassist in the world, Gary Karr. After receiving his degree, he was heavily recruited by UGA, which hoped his name and ability would foster interest for a new bass program. They have.

"We are without scruples when it comes to getting really quality people in this department," says Richard Graham, director of the UGA School of Music. "And when you talk about Milton, you are talking about someone who is regarded as one of the greatest bassists in the world—and UGA has him. Because of Milton, we have a bass program that is right at the top nationally, and people come from not just the Southeast, but from all over the world to learn from him."

". . . one of the greatest bassists in the world—and UGA has him."

laying the double bass is an immense challenge—both mentally and physically. Besides the difficulty of playing at such a low, and potentially limited, octave (the double bass is often used only to double a symphony orchestra's cello part one octave lower), the double bassist must contend with nearly three feet of hand positions to change chords, as opposed to a few inches for the violin.

"The ranges between violin and bass are so different," says Masciadri, "that I often joke with Ino Mirkovic that it is like a man and woman fighting."

Masciadri teaches 16 bass students every semester. Because of his expertise as a teacher, coupled with his connections and knowledge of the world symphony circuit, his students leave UGA to be principal bassists in orchestras as far away as Argentina, Uruguay, Croatia, Honduras, Brazil, and Italy. Masciadri proteges are aggressively recruited to study at institutions like La Sorbonne, the Geneva Conservatory, and the Manhattan School of Music.

"Milton has been the catalyst in my life," says James Coker (BFA '94), a former bass student and Manhattan School of Music grad, who sat in with the Korean Chamber Ensemble during the benefit performance at the United Nations. "He is a phenomenal strength for the University of Georgia and a magnet for musicians. His compassion is what really sets him apart because he doesn't put people in a square box. He cares about them. I've had teachers who don't even know you exist after you leave them. But as busy as Milton is, he never fails to return e-mails and phone calls. And he is such a good teacher that he can pick out the problems with your playing and not waste time with tangential issues."

When he's not focusing his attention on teaching or his performance schedule, Masciadri hosts the world's largest double bass symposium, which attracts more than 100 musicians to Athens every spring. They come to study with Masciadri for the practitioner-based style for which he is renowned.

He's also available to run errands. Last summer, when UGA's Foundation Fellows program needed someone to lead a group of top students to Argentina, Masciadri was happy to volunteer.

"It doesn't matter if I am playing at a small local performance or in front of thousands in a foreign country," says Masciadri, who promotes the University and its music school throughout the world through musician-exchange agreements with seven institutions in Europe and South America. "If people are listening to me, then I am serious about what I am doing."

Besides his "Artist for Peace" distinction, Masciadri holds one of the most prestigious chairs in the world of music—an appointment from the Bologna Philharmonic Academy that was originally created for Mozart 250 years ago. It has since been held by Rossini and Wagner.

"His virtuosity is amazing and his name recognition around the world makes his music even more special."

asciadri and Mirkovic had a tough act to follow at the United Nations. Performing before them was Russian violinist Maxim Fedotov, who has been referred to as a perfect master and a modern-day Paganini. As Fedotov finished and Masciadri and Mirkovic took their place onstage, the audience at the General Assembly showed its appreciation by applauding mightily for this exquisite brand of unamplified music. They knew what to expect from two of the world's finest stringed instrumentalists, and they were not disappointed. Joe DiMaggio once said, "I always play hard because I never know if there is someone at the stadium who has never seen me play before."

Masciadri has a similar attitude. He and Mirkovic played Bottesini's "Grand Duo" with straightforward elegance, doubling each other's parts to accentuate the range of the solo instruments.

"It's a great piece to show the difference between the double bass and another solo instrument," Masciadri had said earlier following a rehearsal in the assembly hall.

With the U.N. crowd entranced, Masciadri's fingers flew furiously along the neck of his 300-year-old bass. When his part became metronomic, Masciadri looked up and smiled at the crowd with an expression that said, "Relax, everything's under control."

Masciadri is a rarity—one of only five bassists who tour the world extensively—and his double bass is also vintage. Built in Italy in 1690, there are only four others like it in the world.

"When things are going well on stage you can really feel it," says Masciadri. "The double bass produces a sound that is similar to the human voice—and when you can construct a melody with it on your own terms, it is a beautiful moment. No words are needed to see that the audience is feeling the same thing you are. I can go anywhere in the world and speak the language."

At performance's end, the crowd leaped to its feet and Masciadri raised his bow and dipped his bass partner.

Afterward, Masciadri spent little time back stage. He needed sleep before boarding the red-eye for Atlanta. He had classes to teach the next day and a lot of work to catch up on before leaving for another UNESCO performance inaugurating the new capital in Kazakhstan.

"I love what I do," said Masciadri as he wheeled his bass out the door.

"He really does—it's in his blood," said his wife, Rosanna, who walked arm in arm with Masciadri. "He doesn't have any choice but to do it, and I am very proud of him. But I still miss him when he's gone."

"Sometimes I don't get a lot of sleep and sometimes I travel a lot," said Masciadri. "But when you're lucky enough to teach and play music for peace, you find the energy." And then he disappeared into the crisp Manhattan air.

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