Yun's life was marked by extraordinary political and personal experiences. Do you think these are reflected in his music?
One cannot really separate his music from the experiences that shaped his life. But what interests me most is how he transformed those experiences into an entirely individual musical language. He was a fascinating figure because he brought together two very different musical worlds. He had studied Western compositional techniques, including twelve-tone music, but he also drew deeply on the musical traditions of Korea.
What emerged was something completely his own. I find that particularly remarkable. He did not simply combine different styles or techniques; he created a language in which these different influences became inseparable. When I later visited the museum dedicated to him in Tongyeong, I learned much more about his personal history and the extraordinary international solidarity that surrounded him. It certainly deepened my appreciation of the man and his achievements.
You have also been closely involved with Yun's music as a pianist and teacher. Which works have particularly impressed you?
My wife, the pianist Mi-Joo Lee, has performed his Interludium A and the Five Pieces for Piano on numerous occasions. I have always been particularly enthusiastic about Interludium A, and I was able to encourage several of my students to study it. It became a work that we returned to quite frequently in my class.
Yun once gave me the score personally, which I still remember with pleasure. It is a genuinely demanding work and teaching it was a wonderful experience. I had some very talented students who were able to meet its considerable technical and musical challenges. The important thing, as with any great music, is to take the score seriously and pay close attention to what the composer has written.
I also performed Yun's chamber music with Roswitha Staege. That was a particularly stimulating collaboration, because we worked very carefully on the musical details. It gave me a fascinating insight into the practical interpretation of his music.
What makes Yun's music so compelling for performers and audiences today?
I think his music has an extraordinary expressive power. Whenever I have heard it performed really well, I have never had the impression that audiences found it inaccessible or strange. Of course, there are complex compositional ideas behind it. Yun developed his own approach, often referred to as the main-tone technique, and it is fascinating to study how he brought together elements of Eastern and Western musical thought.
One image that has always impressed me is his comparison with a brushstroke in East Asian painting or calligraphy. In Western drawing, we often think of a line as something clearly defined. A brushstroke, on the other hand, can have an extraordinary variety of textures, colours and nuances. It can become more intense, dissolve, or change its character as it develops. This opens up a completely different world of imagination. And I believe that this richness of colour and expression is something an audience can experience directly.
You do not need to understand every compositional technique in order to appreciate the music. After all, you do not have to study Schoenberg's twelve-tone system to be moved by his works. What matters is that something is communicated beyond the technical construction. That is precisely what I find so convincing about Yun.
His music is often described as a bridge between East and West. Is that also what makes it relevant to younger generations of musicians?

Absolutely. I find the background of his music fascinating, particularly the way he approached musical expression from two different traditions. For a young musician, this opens up entirely new possibilities of listening and thinking. It encourages you to consider sound itself, its development, its colour and its expressive potential. And there is another important aspect: Yun's music is often highly instrumental. It makes considerable demands on the performer, but it also offers opportunities for virtuosity and for a very direct form of musical expression. I think young musicians can discover a great deal through studying it. And when they perform it convincingly, the audience can share in that discovery.
The competition bearing Yun's name naturally encourages participants to engage with his music. How important is that connection?
I think it is a very valuable idea. A competition dedicated to a particular composer has a wonderful opportunity to introduce that composer's music to a new generation. When I was in Tongyeong in 2005, Yun's music was already part of the competition repertoire. I would certainly be delighted to hear young pianists performing it again this year.
The Isang Yun Special Prize is an excellent way of encouraging that interest. It gives participants an additional artistic challenge and, at the same time, helps bring the music to a wider audience. But what is important to me is that a young musician approaches such a work with genuine curiosity and commitment. It requires considerable preparation, but it can be enormously rewarding.
And I think it is particularly appropriate that this happens in Tongyeong, the city where Yun was born. There is something very special about hearing his music in the place that is so closely connected with his identity.
