We do it again and again, always with a skulking shame. We receive an e-mail from the powers that be, tantalizing us with some vibrant name, and we rub our palms excitedly for his arrival. How eagerly we titter about the wisdom he must possess. It must emanate from him as easily as scent! But when our superstar arrives, what do we do? We ignore him. We bow our heads and pretend he's not there, because we're too overwhelmed by the next lovely reminder that our lives are rat races to deadlines. And our hero comes and goes, without the adulation we would have liked to give had not our noses been buried learning repertoire, studying, or rehearsing.

I feared that this would be the case when Matti Raekallio, one of the most sought after pedagogues in Europe, was invited to visit Juilliard from November 6 to 17. For his stay here was so fleeting, and the chances to play for him so frustratingly brief, that one might easily regret not taking more advantage of his guest residency.

Second-year master's degree student Liza Stepanova plays for Matti Raekallio at his master class in November. (Photo by Andrew Yee)

But my worry proved to be short-lived. In an example of amazingly prophetic timing, Professor Raekallio will be moving from the University of Hanover to join the Juilliard piano faculty in September 2007. The search committee had been looking for an international presence, and Raekallio was unanimously agreed upon as the best possible candidate for the spot. And how impressive a coincidence, as his November visit was arranged long before Juilliard had even been thinking about adding new faculty members. Brought here in November through the generosity of Juilliard board member Susan Rose and her brainchild, the Friends of Piano at Juilliard, Professor Raekallio had no idea he was to move to Juilliard when he innocently fulfilled the visiting-artist duties of teaching and giving a master class in Morse Hall.

It was at this master class that most of us got to meet him, and discovered why two weeks was hardly enough time to absorb all of his musical ideas. Perhaps that was why he spoke so amazingly fast. His pleasantly square face and soft-looking body seemed to suggest soporific speech, so his hyperactive intensity threw me off a little—but in a good way. While he spoke, he managed to maintain a sort of casual evenness, as if freakishly energetic were completely normal for him.

It was readily apparent that this man was all music. He arrived simply, ready to work in the unassuming costume of tweedy suit and utilitarian spectacles. He wasted no time on prettified introductions or jokes, concentrating solely on the three works at hand: the Mozart Sonata in F Major, K. 533/494; the Schumann Sonata in F-sharp Minor, Op. 11; and Stravinsky's Three Movements from Petrushka—performed in that order by Liza Stepanova, this author, and Alex McDonald. From the perspective of the piano bench, a master class with Raekallio was the ideal situation. He knew exactly what he wanted, and conveyed his ideas so clearly, with such succinct images, that one was able to understand him almost instantaneously.

But it was apparent that he was most comfortable as a one-on-one teacher. He was not the type to spin out trendy generalizations to please the public; the specifics of artistry were much more important to him. Such an intense teaching style resulted in happy students, many of whom signed up for repeat lessons—such as freshman Oliver Jia, who reported that "he has a very respectful and positive disposition. His communication skills are very amiable …" And Yiding Niu, a pianist in her second year, added, "I don't feel any tension in front of him. He knows how to calm students down by his natural manner and personality."

Raekallio's mode of teaching was to comb through the entire piece, forming deductions through a careful look at important characteristics of the work. For example, he might say, "What is terribly interesting is that Schumann doesn't draw any slur lines over this melody, and I think that one can draw some sort of pianistic conclusions from this … allowing the full weight to drop on each note." And he would demonstrate—with a full, burgundy sound which you then realized was exactly what that passage was supposed to sound like. (Here would be the appropriate moment to pause and let his superior powers sink in—but no, he would never dream of being so pompous.)

He saw the piano as capable of an immense variety of textures and colors, and encouraged the performer to "be similar to a conductor leading a symphony." His push for context included such comments as "each individual note must contain as much fire and flesh and blood as possible, so that one feels a huge work is about to begin."

Trained at the Vienna Academy of Music and at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, Raekallio was born in Helsinki and was the first musician to receive the Five-Year Artist Grant from the Finnish State three times. He has had a lucrative career performing, teaching, and recording; has served on the jury of the major international competitions; and, most interestingly, has done research since 1994 on the subject of fingering as a psychological process.

Juilliard knows a good catch when it meets one. As piano department chair Yoheved Kaplinsky says, "We are thrilled to have the opportunity to bring Matti Raekallio to Juilliard. We know that his personal and artistic integrity, his reputation for excellence, and his deep concern for the students will enhance and enrich the piano department. We all look forward to welcoming him as our colleague."

And as a teacher. May we all relish this opportunity as Matti Raekallio comes to our door.

Jeannette Fang is a fourth-year piano student.