‘Is he an icon?’, asked my seven year old son as we strolled towards the Star ferry in TST. Somehow he had just learnt the word and was asking this question about everyone. On this occasion I replied that, yes, perhaps the giant image blazoned on the Cultural Centre billboard could, indeed, be described as an icon. It was Isaac Stern in full flow. ‘The Legend Continues’, ran the caption, trailing the Mozart and Bruch concertos that were to be performed in a single programme.
I was struck by ‘the Legend’s very human qualities when I arrived to do an interview the next day. He was on the phone and motioned for me to make myself at home at a table laid for breakfast. His physical appearance, very small with a potbelly encircled by a formal trouser belt, was endearing. I could see why children were comfortable with him. At the same time I appreciated that I was in the company of an uncommonly keen and vigorous intellect.
Our conversation over coffee and croissants, before the interview, will always stay with me. It ranged from home and family to politics and world issues. A point he constantly returned to was the threat of fundamentalism, and his death, just days after 9/11, gave his words a disturbing resonance. He remained, however, an optimist. You had to be, he said, and then, accompanied by the occasional clink of a coffee cup, we turned on the recorder.