What fresh, aromatic laurels can an adoring public heap on Greek-American musical powerhouse Yolanda Kondonassis? Launching a whirlwind career at 18 with the New York Philharmonic and performing with a constellation of other symphonies, the world-class solo harpist who scored thousands of frequent flyer miles playing professionally, hopscotching from her ancestral roots in Thessaloniki to Brazil.

She’s been twice nominated for a Grammy – and is also the longtime chair of the harp department at the Cleveland Institute of Music. Is there anything else worth savoring that can be plucked from the portals of a multi-layered mind such as hers that’s generously coated with practical sensibilities? More than you can imagine.

The Oklahoma native said her introduction to that musical instrument began at nine years old, when she began learning the piano. Her mother, who taught music – she was the town’s ‘piano guru’ who taught more than 100 students – impressed upon her daughter the wisdom of learning two instruments. While Kondonassis leaned more toward exploring the intricacies of the saxophone, her mom preferred her nascent child prodigy learn the harp. “She was very fascinated by the romantic nature of the harp. She ordered me a little harp… a starter harp without pedal. She was also trying to refine me. She was afraid I was turning into a tomboy.”

In high-school at the famed Interlochen Center for the Arts in Michigan, Kondonassis had an awakening of sorts.

“It was very pivotal in realizing what it takes,” to be a musician, to infuse meaning into life – hers and other people’s. In fact, she added, “everything in life is about realizing what it takes. I started on piano and harp and decided I didn’t want to be a jack of two trades.” The harp triumphed.

After college at The Cleveland Institute of Music, where she received her Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees, Kondonassis plunged headlong into her chosen profession. “I remember driving across the George Washington Bridge with my mini-van and everything I owned.” Her new address was a miniature, “rent-controlled apartment on the Upper West Side. I got a manager and a recording contract.”

However, conscious of the importance of remaining true to her strengths, she bowed out of showcasing her talents as part of an orchestra. “I knew early on it would not sustain me like being out in front of an orchestra.” Stepping out, she acknowledged, is a “high stress, high risk reward.”

Over the course of her richly textured career, Kondonassis has recorded upwards of 25 albums. Recording sessions are laborious, all-consuming affairs, she emphasizes, gobbling up as many as four, 14-hour workdays.

During that marathon, she said it’s not uncommon for her to tune her harp as many as 30 times! Capturing the elusive sound brings with it an implanted question resident in everyone’s mind, from the talent to the producer and the audio engineer: “Is this what we want?” To achieve that goal, she will tune her harp up to 30 times. Once the album recording is finished, she sleeps for 14 hours. “My fingers are ripped up, my shoulders and neck” hurt.

Pausing from volleying nuggets plucked from her sterling career, Kondonassis turned her attention to her father and the love they shared before his death last year at 95. “He was my best friend,” she said, her voice softening. “I think I got a lot of the Greek end of things from him. (Her mom was German.) “I have relatives I just adore in Athens and Dad was born in Peristera, a village near Thessaloniki.” Her grandfather was a general in the Greek Army, during World War II. As a result, her father spent a big part of his youth ducking the Nazis. “After the war, my grandfather was one of the people put in charge of the Marshall Plan in Greece.”

Following the war, she explained, her dad came to the U.S. as a college student at Depauw University, landing summer jobs painting houses, cooking, and waiting tables at iconic spots like Manhattan’s Tavern on the Green. Along with a degree in Economics, he earned Master’s and PhD in Economics from Indiana University. In 1958, he began teaching at the University of Oklahoma, where he spent the next 50 years on the faculty. “He really built the economics program at Oklahoma,” she declared proudly. “He had that very creative Greek streak. I was going through his things – luckily, my dad kept a lot of artifacts and papers,” including the boat ticket from the Queen Mary.

Nothing arouses the senses like working out in a spa or sitting on an airplane and hearing her music waft. “Wow! That’s me!” Kondonassis bubbled. Painting her odyssey of strings with a broader brush, the opportunity to perform with venerable bodies like the English Chamber Orchestra and the Odesa Philharmonic in Ukraine always get the adrenaline flowing. “Then there was the weird, random place outside Brussels next to a cow pasture,” she conjured. “I recorded Vivaldi’s Four Seasons there.”

At 60, Kondonassis said she’s not flirting with the idea of retirement. During Covid, she fell on the ice and broke a wrist, sidelining her for a short time. “I’m put together sturdily,” she affirmed. “I do not want to be one of those people who say: `You need to call it a day.’”