“A childhood surrounded by art and music, a violin I almost never chose for myself, a mandolin that turned out to be one of the best lessons of my life, an unexpected journey from Türkiye to France to Canada, twenty-five years in Victoria, countless students and colleagues, twenty years of chamber music, and somehow, along the way, a career that became much bigger than the one I originally imagined.”
I come from a very talented and artistic family. My parents and my brother are architects, my mother is also an artist and sculptor, and almost my entire family on my mother’s side is involved in classical ballet. My grandfather was an opera singer. So, naturally, everyone expected me to become a dancer.
I did take ballet lessons, but, to tell you the truth, I hated it. I was much more interested in playing the piano. After many tears, my family finally accepted that I would probably be better off without dancing. (I’m not very flexible, you see!)
Eventually, they took me to the concertmaster of the Ankara State Opera Orchestra to see whether I could recognize pitches and perhaps had some musical talent. He told them I had perfect pitch and that it would be a shame to waste it on the piano. I’m still not entirely sure about that conclusion, but that was how I was introduced to the violin.
My first year of “violin” was actually spent playing the mandolin. My first teacher, who was a violist, had the brilliant idea of having me begin with mandolin because the left-hand structure was very similar to the violin, finger placement, spacing and everything else. At the same time, I learned solfège and music theory.
My grandfather was thrilled that I was playing an instrument. He would call me every day and quiz me on rhythms and pitches. He would ask things like, “So, one eighth note plus one quarter note, plus two sixteenth notes—what do you get?” I was learning mathematics and music at the same time, and I was eight years old.
Finally, when I was nine, I picked up the violin. My left hand was already trained, so I could concentrate on developing my bow arm.Now that I know more about teaching children, I realize what a brilliant idea that was. Thank you, Özer Sezgin. He passed away only last week, and I remember him with enormous love and respect.
And that is how it all started.
Growing Up in Music
My education was very different from what most children experience here. I entered the conservatory in Türkiye when I was 11 and left at 17 to continue at another music school. In other words, I never really went to a “normal” school. I studied music my entire life. So, if you ask me about mathematics or science, I may have to remind you that I have absolutely no idea what those things are!
Music opened incredible doors for me and gave me opportunities to travel and meet people from many different cultures. I have always been fascinated by languages. At the conservatory, string players were required to learn German, so that became my first foreign language. I began travelling for music when I was fourteen, including studying at a music academy in Switzerland. I picked up some English along the way and took private lessons whenever I could.
Eventually, I moved to Ankara to study with Server Ganiev and Viktor Pikayzen. I was 19 when I became one of eight Turkish musicians selected to join the Bilkent Symphony Orchestra. Thankfully, all those English lessons came in handy because everything in the orchestra was conducted in English. It was an extraordinary beginning to my professional orchestral life.
Seven years later, I went to France to study. I thought I would be there for one year. Which added another language to me, a little did i know that it would be useful later on. That “one year” turned into something much more significant.
My teacher, Burkhard Godhoff, kept telling me that I had a talent for teaching. I resisted completely. I would tell him, “I’m a performer! I want to play chamber music and be in an orchestra. That’s all I want to do.”
Well…look at me now. I’m doing all of it.
In fact, if it weren’t for him, I probably would never have come to Canada. While I was in France, where I was his assistant at the National Conservatory of Toulouse, he told me one day, “We are going to Victoria.”
I remember thinking, “Where is Victoria?”
We didn’t have smartphones then, so we actually had to open an atlas to find out.
I continued extending my leave from my orchestra in Türkiye, and they were incredibly supportive of my decision to study abroad. Eventually, I moved to Victoria—for one year only.
That was twenty-five years ago.
Life is funny.
Somehow, It Became a Career
People who know me know that I am a workaholic. The funny thing is that most of the time, it really doesn’t feel like work.
I have several different roles: I play in the symphony, I teach, I coach chamber music, I work with young musicians, and I have my quartet, the Emily Carr String Quartet, which has now been part of my life for twenty years.
That relationship is one of the things I value most about being a teacher.
My students are one of the greatest joys of my life. I feel incredibly lucky to have built long-term relationships with so many of them. I have watched them grow as musicians and as people, and many have eventually become friends and colleagues. There is something very special about teaching a student for years and then, one day, finding yourself sharing a music stand with that same person, discussing music, creative ideas or life.
My quartet is another part of my life that I do entirely for love. Twenty years with the Emily Carr String Quartet has given me the opportunity to play the chamber music I love, discover new music, work with wonderful composers and musicians, and continue learning. Even practicing doesn’t usually feel like work . Although, of course, there are some pieces I would rather not play!
Over the last couple of years, I have also somehow become an administrator.
This has been an interesting development.
The truth is, I am terrible with technology. As I mentioned, I didn’t go to a regular school and I never really needed a computer for anything other than answering emails. Now I find myself doing all sorts of things on computers, managing programs, schedules, communications and administration.
Thank goodness I have very patient people around me who regularly fix my mistakes.
People who know me know that I am a workaholic. The funny thing is that most of the time, it really doesn’t feel like work.
-Müge Büyükçelen
The Other Side of Me
When I do have time off, I have one favourite thing to do: doodling.
I have always been interested in visual art and making things with my hands. At one point, before my twins were born, I became interested in making jewellery. Then I got into working with clay. In the last couple of years, though, doodling has become my favourite. It is probably the most relaxing thing I do.
I draw, listen to music and completely switch off.
And yes, I mostly listen to classical music and opera. I know that sounds terribly predictable, but it’s true. I love opera, and I love classical music, and that is what I naturally put on when I am at home.
I also love cooking. One of my greatest pleasures is coming home after a concert, pouring myself a glass of red wine and making dinner. That is my reward after a concert.
I hate baking.
Baking requires following rules, measurements and precise formulas. I clearly did not receive enough science education for that. I much prefer cooking, where I can make things up as I go along.
So, that’s a little bit about me.
A childhood surrounded by art and music, a violin I almost never chose for myself, a mandolin that turned out to be one of the best lessons of my life, an unexpected journey from Türkiye to France to Canada, twenty-five years in Victoria, countless students and colleagues, twenty years of chamber music, and somehow, along the way, a career that became much bigger than the one I originally imagined.
I suppose my teacher in France was right.
I ended up doing it all.
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