Music as the Ultimate Currency of Cultural Exchange
Lang Lang’s recent performance in Vienna is the perfect catalyst for a few thoughts and old music anecdotes I want to share today.
Viewing music as the primary currency of cultural exchange is an idea that struck me decades ago. When we trade goods internationally, we rely on banknotes and coins. In the cultural realm, music has always been the natural choice. That is why concerts have consistently served as a proven vehicle for bringing different cultures together. [1]
Lang Lang in Vienna
I was invited back to the garden party of the Chinese Ambassador, Qi Mei, this year—an event I look forward to every season. In previous years, the guest list was quite small, mostly limited to politicians and business leaders. My repeated invitations are more likely because I regularly co-organized, initiated, and carried out cultural projects in the past. This has obviously not been forgotten. [2]

Usually, Chinese students from the Vienna University of Music provided the musical backdrop, which was always a pleasure. This year, additionally, a very special guest took the stage: Lang Lang. (郎朗) Anyone with an interest in music knows him as one of the most influential and successful concert pianists of our time. On top of that, the great pianist Rudolf Buchbinder was also in attendance—an artist whose recordings have brought me joy for decades. Experiencing Lang Lang live in such an intimate setting brought back a flood of memories and associations related to music, some of which I want to explore in this more personal article.

Early observations
During my early days in Vienna, I constantly noticed Japanese, and later South Korean, students walking around with violin or cello cases. I remember a major misconception I had back then: I assumed Asian musicians could never truly understand or interpret the music of Mozart or Schubert deeply enough, simply because it is so uniquely rooted in Vienna and its culture. What a mistake. Today, Dame Mitsuko Uchida is one of my absolute favorite interpreters of Mozart and Schubert. And I am equally captivated by the virtuosity of Lang Lang, who continues to bring fresh energy to classical music.
I left my parents’ home when I was just 15 ½ years old. Today, that makes you a young adult; back then, you were still considered a child. To make matters more challenging, I tried to stand on my own two feet right from the start, basically refusing any support. The music charts at the time were dominated by bands like Mungo Jerry or, at best, the Small Faces. Personally, I had settled somewhere between Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, and Led Zeppelin. And then came Viktring. [3]
The Viktring Music Forum
Friedrich Gulda moved the festival to Viktring in 1972. Looking back, that era—especially 1972 and 1973—was the absolute pinnacle of the forum’s history. Giants like Ornette Coleman, Dollar Brand (Abdullah Ibrahim), and Charlie Haden performed there. So did Gulda himself, alongside Don Cherry. [4]

A Morning Jog with Don Cherry
Don Cherry, one of the most significant jazz icons of his era (younger generations probably know his daughter, Neneh Cherry), was one of the most impressive musicians at the festival. On the morning of his performance, coincidence had it that Don Cherry and I went for a jog together. It was a beautiful summer morning, running along a great path through the woods. We pushed ourselves hard. As we finished our loop, we walked the final stretch.
Right next to the path was a stream. Hot and sweaty from the run, we stripped off our clothes and jumped into the cool water to refresh ourselves.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a policeman appeared on the bank—someone had probably tipped him off that there was “long-haired rabble” hanging around the area. He started lecturing us about “causing a public nuisance by skinny-dipping” and demanded a 25-schilling fine. My memory is a bit hazy, but I think I let Don do the talking. Since he spoke no German and the officer spoke no English, we got away with a simple warning. We had a great laugh about it afterward, while I used my basic English to explain the concept of “causing a public nuisance” to him. A public nuisance—in the middle of the woods, with nobody around but the trees and a stream?
Friedrich Gulda’s 1973 Scandal
Friedrich Gulda had originally launched the festival in Ossiach (operating as the Musikforum Ossiach from 1969 to 1971) before moving it to Viktring for 1972 and 1973. The final year in Ossiach, 1971, had ended in a massive scandal.

Now, Gulda’s performance in Viktring was scheduled for the evening. About 50-60 chairs were set up outdoors. The front rows were packed with local VIPs: I assume the mayor and his wife, the local bank director, the school principal, and some similar local celebrities. We long-hairs sat all the way in the back—behind many empty seats.
Paul and Limpe Fuchs (the duo known as Anima) took the stage. Then Gulda sat down at an electrically amplified clavichord and began attacking it with a knife and fork. This exact scene became the central talking point of that scandalous concert in the monastery courtyard. Striking the strings with silverware amplified the chaotic nature of the performance. Many traditional audience members in formal evening wear were so shocked that they walked out mid-concert.
The front rows emptied instantly. But then, once only the long-hairs were left sticking it out, Gulda played Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. A completely new world opened up for me. Bach has been a permanent fixture in my music collection ever since. [5]
About a year later in Vienna, I was walking past a high-end music shop in the city center during my lunch break. Everything inside was way out of my budget, but I walked in anyway, asked to try an electric guitar, and started messing around. Mid-riff, I heard a voice behind me in a thick Viennese dialect: “You have to play it like this.” I turned around—it was Gulda, correcting my guitar playing from across the room at a keyboard.
The Perks of 1970s Social Democracy
The war had been over for barely 40 years. The country was slowly moving away from hardship and entering an era of optimism. After years of conservative rule, the Socialists won the election, and Bruno Kreisky became Chancellor. A “red chancellor,” and Jewish on top of that!
Kreisky also appointed a woman to a key cabinet position—Hertha Firnberg as Minister of Science and Research—who proved to be just as phenomenal. Among other reforms, her ministry issued a decree ensuring that unsold rush tickets at federal theaters and concert halls, including the State Opera and the Musikverein, were made available to students for just 20 schillings (roughly $1.50). [6]
I was never any good at flirting, but I apparently caught the eye of one of the usherettes. One evening, she looked at me and asked, “Your usual spot?” before handing me a ticket for the stalls, ground floor, 5th row center.
Vienna has always been the heart of classical music, but that specific era was truly extraordinary. And so, because of those cheap student tickets, I was able to see countless legends live: Emil Gilels, Igor and David Oistrach, Nathan Milstein, and many others.
Embracing Diversity
In an earlier article, “When Stars Were Born,” I wrote about our club, Bona Mente, where several big names from the regional pop scene used to rehearse when starting their careers. Harri Stojka and, most famously, Falco went on to achieve international fame. Stefan Weber and his Drahdiwaberl band were always good for a scandal.
For me, loving classical music while simultaneously obsessing over jazz, blues, and eventually rock was never a contradiction. It was simply enjoying the sheer variety of cultural expression. That perspective hasn’t changed. A lifelong appreciation for cultural diversity has shaped how I interact with the world and has immensely enriched my life. And for that I am very grateful to my fate.

footnotes:
[1] In the context of 20th-century diplomacy, cultural diplomacy—particularly through classical music and jazz—frequently served as a soft-power tool to maintain international dialogue and bridge political divides during periods of geopolitical tension.
[2] Many of these cultural initiatives stemmed from the author’s involvement with the Austrian Society for Chinese Studies (ÖGCF). The independent projects, particularly in the field of cinema, included organizing the largest retrospective of Chinese film history to date, which featured a curation of 41 historical and contemporary films showcased as part of the Viennale (Vienna International Film Festival).
[3] Viktring Forum: Originally a Cistercian monastery founded in 1142, Stift Viktring (near Klagenfurt, Carinthia) became a historical hub for avant-garde music when Friedrich Gulda relocated his festival there in 1972. It established a legacy of experimental art that continues to influence the region’s cultural landscape. The July 1973 performance at the Viktring Music Forum remains one of Austria’s most infamous avant-garde music scandals.
[4] Don Cherry (1936–1995) was a pioneer of world jazz and avant-garde music. His appearance at the Viktring Music Forum occurred during a highly prolific period of his career, shortly before he extensively integrated traditional non-Western instruments and philosophies into his compositions.
[5] Many years later, when I had a small office, for 2-3 years I played Bach’s Goldberg Variations almost every morning as the first thing I did.
[6] Almost everyone seemed to love him; no Austrian chancellor since has ever achieved such high approval ratings, earning three consecutive absolute majorities in 1971, 1975, and 1979. Under Chancellor Bruno Kreisky and Minister Hertha Firnberg, Austria introduced sweeping educational and cultural accessibility reforms in the 1970s. The 20-schilling student ticket initiative was part of a deliberate political effort to democratize high culture and open elite institutions like the Vienna State Opera to the youth.


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