So Rostropovich is dead. I'll say this: love his playing or hate it (I think at various times and for various pieces of music I've been on both sides of this), he's one of the greatest musicians who's ever lived.
I did have the pleasure of meeting him once. It was during my senior year of high school, and he was performing with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. At that time, I was traveling to Chicago every other week to take lessons with one of the section cellos in the symphony, Brant Taylor. It wasn't the ideal situation, but I think he was excellent for helping me get ready for my auditions.
At any rate, being a member of the symphony, he was able to get me and my family half-priced tickets, so we actually went down to see the symphony a few times, and one of those concerts was Rostropovich conducting an all Britten program. Brant had already offered to take me back stage at intermission, to see if I could get in to talk to him, so I was ready, Rostropovich CD in hand, hoping to at least get an autograph.
So at intermission I went back to his dressing room with Brant, and indeed he immediately let us in. I don't remember all of the details, but after he saw my hand, he started talking about how one can only become a great musician through great hardship and struggle, that without those things, one loses a lot of what it really is to be a musician. I'm not sure that I've ever really believed that; especially since it seemed to be my particular "difficulty" (which of course is no diffiuclty at all) that prompted him. But I'll never forget what he showed me next. He rolled up his sleeve, and actually started sliding his wrist around (I can't really explain it, except to say that it looked as though it was almost still in two parts). Apparently, when he was in his early teens, he had broken it quite severely (and clearly at the time surgical procedures were not quite up to modern standards). He said it took a year of long, hard struggle, just to get himself to the point where he was able to rotate the bow onto the string. That's dedication that I can only dream about. At that point, with much encouragement, he kissed me on the cheek, and my family and I went back to our seats. He also signed my CD, which reads: "To Dear colleague Brian with all best wishes Yours, M. Rostropovich."