Perhaps it is not proper, but I wish to talk about his face, his new face, the face after his ilness, because it is relevant to the subject - not to Abbado as a private individual, but as a musician. If I were romantically or nostalgically inclined, I'd say that his face has become more spiritual, that it has come even closer to the essence of music, to use an old expression.
Whereas it is only closer to death.
We see this, but to our surprise, it does not frighten us. Man is mortal, and man is created in the image of God: it's this duality that we see on Abbado's face. Of course, there is nothing surprising in this. [...]
Still, though we see the brutal ravages of time, Claudio Abbado does not age. To put it another way, it is already apparent that he will never grow old. Just look closely toward the end of the film, where he talks about Holderlin, then hurries up that wooden scaffold or stair, practically leaping, like a young puppy. He is the boy, the eternal boy.
His youthfulness, like his elegance, is not about him, but about the world, our world. It says something that we would not know without him, something that, without him, we would soon forget.
(c) Peter Esterhazy, Hungarian author