When accomplished pianist Prof Nina Schumann went for her first mammogram, she expected a routine check-up. Instead, she left with a life-changing diagnosis that would be the first in a trio of conditions that would reshape her identity as a musician and teacher. 

“There weren’t any signs,” she recalls. “I simply went for my first mammogram and found out on that day that I had breast cancer.” The cancer diagnosis in 2012 was the first of the conditions that slowly, and often silently, have been reshaping her career and identity. 

Then came the focal dystonia, a neurological disorder that started with a barely noticeable constriction in the fingers of her left hand. “Out of all three conditions, the earliest signs were probably from Parkinson’s,” she reflects. “But the focal dystonia became clear once it was diagnosed in 2013.”

Long before she or anyone else suspected Parkinson’s disease, there were subtle hints: a dull absence of smell, and a right arm that no longer swung naturally when she walked. “Apparently, once Parkinson’s is diagnosed, you’ve already had it for 20 years,” she says. Schumann, who is also head of piano at the Department of Music at Stellenbosch University (SU), was diagnosed with the condition in 2018, at the age of 48 and just six years after her double mastectomy. 

Navigating the challenges

For an artist whose career has been built on technique, control, and countless hours behind the piano, the combined impact has been profound. “I cannot practise the same amount I did before,” she says. “Physically, it’s impossible as I don’t have the same flexibility.” Parkinson’s, more disruptive than dystonia, now structures Schumann’s entire day. She works on a strict four-hour medication cycle, each dose taking about half an hour to take effect. 

Schumann says that although she is acutely aware of the changes, many people still don’t notice that she has focal dystonia. But for her, the reality is inescapable. She says the change was particularly noticeable when she watched herself on screen in the documentary Concerto, screened at the recent Stellenbosch Woordfees. It was “jolting” to see the movements that have become a part of her everyday life, she reveals. “I often had the thought: should I have that removed from the documentary? Because it’s almost embarrassing. But of course, that is the whole point. I have to keep it in. It depicts the reality.”

Renewed purpose

Directed by Jurg Slabbert, Concerto follows Schumann through her final week of preparation for a performance of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. It combines present-day footage with archival clips of the virtuoso in her prime to show how Schumann is finding renewed purpose in the face of devastating loss. In his directorial statement, Slabbert explains: “I set out to explore the essence of artistry, resilience, and the enduring spirit of a musician in the face of profound loss.” 

Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 marked the beginning of her career, a point when her skill and artistry were untouched by any constraints. “Now, three decades later, Nina approaches it with the wisdom and poignancy that come from years of experience and the stark reality of her condition,” says Slabbert. 

Viewing the old footage was bittersweet, she admits. “It was truly wonderful, because I noticed how economical my movements were, which I was never aware of. It’s sad seeing the before and after. But that is what it is.”

A talent reimagined

To keep playing, Schumann has had to reimagine her relationship with the piano and adjust her technique. “The main thing, of course, is that my wrist doesn’t move. So that means that if my wrist doesn’t move, the only thing that I can move is my upper body. So, I have to adjust the angle at the piano consistently. I have to try and find solutions every day, so that focus really occupies my time, mostly when I practise.” These changes have not diminished her artistry. Instead, they have redirected it. What illness took from her technically, it returned in emotional depth.

For Schumann, “musical feeling” itself has moved from the background to the foreground. “It’s the expression of tension and the resolution that you feel from the music and that comes from within,” she explains. “You know, before, I think I had a lot of focus on technical expertise and how fast I could play to a certain extent; now I’m focusing very much on sound production and presenting the material in a musical way.”

Finding support

Schumann says her strongest support comes from her students. “It is not necessarily spoken, but I know they are there for me. There is admiration from their side. I feel they are accompanying me every day on this journey.” Being vocal about her conditions has also allowed her to be part of a global community of people with similar challenges, with many reaching out to her via email for guidance and expertise after seeing her on tour. “On the one hand, I want to help other people, but it’s not entirely altruistic. It also helps me make peace with my situation. It’s a two-way street.”

She emphasises the importance of sufferers finding someone to talk to about their condition. “We need as much conversation and openness about these conditions as possible, so that people understand that while things are happening to your body, you are still a fully-fledged person.”

A future full of promise

Despite the adjustments, Schumann continues to enjoy a full schedule of teaching and performances. “When I give concerts, I realise I can actually still play. It’s not yet necessary for me to close the book on that. And the most important and the most positive thing for my brain is to continue playing for as long as I can.”

With her students keeping her busy and annual events such as the Stellenbosch International Chamber Music Festival on the calendar, her musical life remains full. She is especially looking forward to performing Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in America next October. “I have no idea from month to month whether I will be able to do that or not, but I’m going to give it a go, and we’ll see what happens.”

The triple challenge of breast cancer, Parkinson’s and focal dystonia may have forced Schumann to adapt, but it has also allowed for a deeper relationship with music. “I feel much more grateful whenever I play, because I don’t take it as a given anymore.”

Instead of striving for technical perfection, Schumann is able to explore the emotional aspects of her craft. “I focus much more on the expression and communication of the musicality that I have, rather than the technique, and that’s quite a wonderful space to be in.”