Conducting

The Most Exhilarating Music Concert I’ve Ever Seen

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“Music has the power to unite us. It proves that by working together, we can create something truly beautiful.” ~ Pinchas Zuckerman

This time last week I felt a conflagration spreading through my veins. It wasn’t just me that was on fire, it emanated from the orchestra (the Royal Philharmonic) and their illustrious Principal Guest Conductor and virtuoso violinist, Pinchas Zuckerman. I’m sure most of the audience felt it too.

Whatever the range of opinions this large gathering of people may have held politically, it certainly felt like we were brought together by our love of music.  Even though the seemingly endless turbulence, turmoil and uncertainty caused by Brexit continues to ricochet around our island, infecting and inflaming every corner, I was able to banish my anguish and be present with the creative genius of the composers, thanks to a group of amazing musicians.

The music they made floated, soared, and at times, boomed into the cavernous auditorium of the Royal Festival Hall, setting alight the air and delighting all who heard it. I could only make out the odd spare seat – the concert hall was pretty much packed to the rafters.

It was one of the best concerts I have ever been to; a combination of great seats, a buzzing atmosphere and fabulous music with a programme theme of Symphonic Masters.

When musicians come together with a love for music, combined with confidence, experience and solid techniques it creates a magic between them that you cannot replicate in a recording. Live music has that ‘ je ne sais quoi’, an evanescent blessing of unique energy and vibration that moves us.

Ralph Vaughan Williams – Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis

The first piece in the evening’s repertoire was Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. I absolutely love the dreamy, folk song nature of this composition, and this was the first time I had heard it performed live.

In fact, seeing the performance at the same time as hearing it added another dimension to my experience, elevating my understanding and appreciation of it. The layers of sound the violins, cellos, violas and double basses produced was quite exquisite.

Keeping true to the composer’s directions, they placed nine of the orchestra’s musicians (four violinists, two cellos, two violas and a double bass) up on the choir bench, behind the main string orchestra.  This physical separation meant their parts added a wonderful texture to the piece. They played in a conversation with the main orchestra, as well as the tutti sections where all the musicians performed together.

The sound seemed to linger in the firmament, it really enhanced the music and created a ravishing effect.

I captured a few photos, but out of respect for the musicians I didn’t take them during the performances.

RPO – applause after Fantasia on a theme of Thomas Tallis by Ralph Vaughan Williams

They gave us a wonderful, warm opening, and built up to the crescendos in a subtle and nuanced performance, it was just heavenly. I thought the leader of the orchestra, Duncan Riddell, was superb; his solo sections were sweet and melodic with a pure tone. He demonstrated skillful leadership of the orchestra with considerable panache.

Those blissful fifteen minutes of music filled me with a sense of sangfroid, surrounding us all in a kind of mellifluous and ephemeral protective sound barrier, forcing out the stresses of life.

From the programme:

Vaughan Williams was fascinated by the music of the Tudor period, and particularly liked Tallis’ Third Mode Melody, which he included as Hymn No. 92 in his edition of the English Hymnal and which formed the basis for his string Fantasia . The theme appears almost at once played pizzicato by the double basses, and is then heard in all the lush resonance of the full string orchestra. By way of contrast, the composer makes use of a smaller orchestra (nine players) within the piece, suggesting that this ensemble be placed somewhere somewhere at a distance from the main orchestra. In addition, there are passages for a string quartet, and at times the orchestration is pared down to a solo viola.

Just so you have an idea of the kind of pleasure that was infiltrating my cells, here is a recording of a live performance (sadly with a coughing accompaniment), that vaguely comes close:

Mozart – Violin Concerto No. 5 

The orchestra expanded slightly for the Mozart Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219, nicknamed The Turkish, adding two oboes and two French horns, and the small group that had been placed in the choir section returned to their normal positions.

It’s thought that Mozart’s first violin concerto was written in 1773 when Wolfgang was just 17 years old, and there is generally consensus among musicologists that concertos 2, 3, 4 and 5 were all completed in 1775 – when he was still only age 19! The speed at which they were written does not in any way detract from their brilliance. A phenomenal achievement among many from the Austrian wunderkind.

The charm, joy and profundity in these last three concertos transcends age. Mozart’s legacy of music proves that divine inspiration flowed in abundance throughout his short but incredible life.

Pinchas Zuckerman with his violin ready to play Mozart.

I relaxed into the elegant opening movement; the uplifting and lilting melody was expressed perfectly by maestro Zuckerman’s light and playful touch, infused with spectacular virtuosity.

His flourishes and stunning cadenza appeared effortless. But as an amateur violinist I know they weren’t half as easy as he made it look! I was astounded by his bow control. His technique, intonation and artistry were jaw dropping, but what impressed me the most was the heart and soul Zuckerman demonstrated throughout his performance; a deep understanding, respect and love for the music that was communicated into our hearts.

I could imagine the teenage Mozart engrossed in the autograph score, feverishly scribbling the black inky notes with his quill, humming the tune maybe, as the candle light flickered on his immortal creation. I feel blessed to have heard such a master play this beautiful, lyrical piece.

The third movement made me want to leap out of my seat and participate in some vigorous air conducting… However, that would have been too distracting for the orchestra and embarrassing for me! The dynamics between the soloist and strings in this rhythmic, ebullient and dance-like tune was magical.

Seeing Pinchas Zuckerman conduct in between his solo passages was fun, using his bow instead of a baton, and even when playing he was able to turn or nod and give subtle clues to the orchestra. It speaks to their professionalism that they need such minimal guidance.

Zukerman’s 1742 Guarneri ‘del Gesu’ violin had a powerful, colourful tone, it really sang into the air, and seemed more deeply resonant than the leader’s instrument, which also sounded gorgeous. The acoustics were great from our seats in the front of the side stalls.

Aside from the performance the Royal Philharmonic and Pinchas Zukerman gave, here is a vintage recording with a similar vibe, from Isaac Stern, Orchestre de Chambre de Radio France conducted by Alexander Schneider:

Pinchas Zuckerman gives a masterclass in New York on Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5 with Rebecca Reale:

Pinchas Zuckerman Biography

The next best thing to hearing Zuckerman play live with the orchestra is to buy his recording of Ralph Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending and Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, alongside some of his Elgar favourites, including the World Premiere Recording of In Moonlight from In the South, with the RPO on the Decca label.

Pinchas Zukerman: Vaughan Williams and Elgar

A snippet of an interview with Pinchas Zuckerman from a documentary, talking about music, Beethoven, Mozart and Wagner:

Beethoven – Symphony No. 5 in C Minor

The orchestra significantly swelled its ranks for the final symphonic master – Beethoven. His fifth symphony barely needs any introduction, even to those not normally ‘into’ classical music.

I wrote a detailed blog a while back (The Secrets of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony), about the political and social influences on Beethoven that shaped the writing of his universally loved, iconic symphony.

Getting ready to play Beethoven’s Fifth as the Conductor, Pinchas Zuckerman steps onto the stage.

The Royal Philharmonic under the baton of Principal Guest Conductor Pinchas Zuckerman gave an electrifying performance. I was astounded by their stamina, (both physical and mental), especially from the strings and conductor/soloist, who had been playing since the start of the concert, whereas the percussion, brass and woodwind section were fresh as daisies.

Their performance was powerful from the outset, with those infamous opening bars unsettling any ‘absent’ listeners. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I had goose bumps through the entire symphony!

The whole symphony took me on a momentous inner journey. How many of us can relate to Beethoven’s passion? Especially when our backs are against the wall and our outer journey is feeling like the music. No matter how many times I hear it, I’m always filled with awe at Beethoven’s innovation, unbridled talent, courage and originality in drawing on the fathoms of his own emotional well. He broke boundaries and defined new ones. He wore his heart on the staves as much as on his sleeve.

It would be remiss of me not to mention the young oboist who was superb in the Mozart and Beethoven performances, his solo parts were particularly worthy of praise. The conductor seemed to single him out in the applause, and rightly so.

Pinchas Zuckerman appreciateing the brass and woodwind sections of the RPO

I also admired Zuckerman’s relaxed and expansive conducting style, the way he opened and closed his arms horizontally as they were building towards the finale, to indicate where he wanted more power or a sustained note. He was equally adept at reigning them in for those more intimate sections.

The thing that struck me about their performance of Beethoven’s fifth was their mastery of its startling dynamics: the difference between the soft and quiet passages (Pianissimo, Piano) and the very strong and loud ones (Forte and Fortissimo) and everything in between. The shimmering crescendos played by the strings in the third movement, known as scrubbing, (achieved by moving the bow very fast up and down on the same note, whilst maintaining the intonation and timing) was stunning.

I felt they truly embodied the spirit of all three composers – the Symphonic Masters – to provide an unforgettable evening.

For future concerts with the RPO and maestro Zuckerman, plus other conductors at British and International venues, here is the what’s on guide.

“Music is the reaching out towards the utmost realities by means of ordered sound.” ~ Ralph Vaughan Williams

The Great Virtuoso Violinists/Composers of the 19th Century: Spohr

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Before reading up a bit for this post I was aware that Louis Spohr (named Ludwig, but he preferred the French equivalent Louis), was a virtuoso violinist and younger contemporary of Beethoven, widely known for inventing the violin chin rest in 1820. I’m very grateful to him for that; I really don’t enjoy playing my violin without one. It’s a fabulous creation. I can’t imagine how violinists managed during the baroque era!

Portrait of Louis Spohr composing in Kassel c. 1824

Portrait of Louis Spohr composing in Kassel c. 1824

He also had the foresight in 1812 to use letters on musical scores as an aid to rehearsal. So he was quite the innovator in many ways. When our conductor at Aylesbury would bark something like: “You made a real hash of the passage between D and E, so let’s go back to D again,” you’d be able to find the place in the music very quickly and easily. I had no idea that this bright idea was down to Louis Spohr.

My copy of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto complete with rehearsal letters, shown on all modern music scores.

My copy of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto complete with rehearsal letters, published on all modern music scores.

Louis Spohr: (5 April 1784 – 22 October 1859)

I was pleasantly surprised and impressed to say the least, when I started to discover his many other accomplishments. His musical compositions were largely unknown to me, despite his immense popularity in classical circles during his lifetime. His fame dwindled after his death and only a small portion of his work remains in modern repertoire.

It couldn’t have been easy crafting your notes in the shadow of Mozart and at the same time as the likes of Beethoven, Hummel and Schubert, but to his credit he followed his own path within the parameters of early romanticism.

He was widely known and respected in Europe during the early 19th century as a virtuoso violinist, conductor, teacher and composer.  He was probably the most famous violinist in Europe until Paganini arrived on the scene with his own fiery brand of pyrotechnics.

Statue of Louis Spohr in Kassel.

Statue of Louis Spohr in Kassel.

Like his friend Beethoven, he also believed in democratic freedoms and was known to possess a noble character. He was unusually tall for the time, being over six-foot. Unlike Beethoven, who was the epitome of the lonely, tortured artist, Spohr was a family man who enjoyed a happy social life and varied pursuits like swimming, ice-skating, hiking, gardening, as well as considerable skill as a painter.

Biedermeier period

Whilst Beethoven was creating music that was innovative, immortal and ‘new’ to the ears of early 19th century concert goers, Spohr appears to blend in with the tastes of the zeitgeist, certainly nothing that would upset the apple cart. But when tastes changes, as they invariably do over time, his more traditional music became eclipsed by Beethoven and Schubert.

The so called Biedermeier period (1812 – 1848), saw the rise of the middle class in Europe, paralleling urbanisation and industrialisation, when access to the arts expanded to attract a larger number of people. Biedermeier encompassed literature, music, the visual arts, interior design and architecture.

It seems that Louis Spohr was a product of his era, whereas Beethoven was a musician for all-time. Rather sadly he is sometimes referred to as the ‘forgotten master’.

Liszt at the Piano by Biedermeier painter Josef Danhauser, c. 1840

Liszt at the Piano by Biedermeier painter Josef Danhauser, c. 1840

As I’ve discovered, his music was mostly written in the romantic genre and I was surprised at the many different instruments he wrote for aside from the violin. I believe his music should be more widely heard and performed than it is.  He may not be a Mozart or a Beethoven, but his achievements are worthy of admiration.

Career

Louis was born to musical parents; his mother being a talented singer and pianist whilst his father was an amateur flutist. The young Spohr however, despite starting out on the harp, took to the violin. His first tutor was a violinist named Dufour, who saw an opportunity for his pupil to further his musical learning at the Duke of Brunswick’s court.  He joined the ducal orchestra aged 15.

Three years later he was sent on a year-long study tour of St Petersburg and Moscow with his tutor, violinist Franz Anton Eck. He also wrote his early compositions during this time.

After Spohr returned to Brunswick the duke allowed him to make a concert tour of northern Germany. An influential music critic, Friedrich Rochlitz happened to be in the audience during his recital in Leipzig in December 1804, and wrote a glowing review of both his virtuosity and his opus 2 violin concerto in D minor. Hence Spohr was promptly catapulted into the pantheon of revered violinists of the early 19th century.

German stamp depicting Louis Spohr from 1959

German stamp depicting Louis Spohr from 1959

Spohr became orchestral director at the court of Gotha between 1805-1812 until he landed the job of leader of the orchestra at the Theater an der Wien in Vienna from 1813-15, where he met Beethoven.

His career progressed as he moved to Frankfurt where he took up the post of Opera Director between 1817-19, and thanks to the recommendation of fellow composer, Carl Maria von Weber, he was appointed Court Kapellmeister at Kassel from 1822 until his death on 22nd October 1859. Incidentally, Kassel was also the place where the Brothers Grimm wrote most of their fairy tales in the early 19th century.

During his career and at the height of his popularity Spohr travelled to England on five separate occasions, and was named in an aria from Act 2 of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Opera, The Mikado.

Compositions

Spohr was a prolific composer of many genres: violin concertos, symphonies, clarinet concertos, harp and chamber music, lieder, cantatas, oratorios and operas. I’ve selected a few pieces from each genre to give an overview of his style and talents. He composed a total of 290 works.

 Violin works

Although he wrote eighteen violin concertos, six violin sonatas and various duos for violin and harp he did not set out to write purely for the violin in the same way that Viotti, Kreutzer, Vieutemps or Wieniawski did.

Of particular note is his Violin Concerto No. 8 in A minor, Op. 47 ‘In modo d’un scena cantate’ that just sings in the most mournful, lyrical melody when performed by the incomparable Jascha Heifetz:

 Violin Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Op. 2 by Christiane Edinger and the Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra:

‘Duo für 2 Violinen’ with David and Igor Oistrakh:

Violin Concerto No. 7 in E minor, Op. 38 (3rd movement) with Takako Nishizaki, Libor Pesek  and the Bratislava Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra:

Sonata in D Major for Violin and Harp, with Sophie Langdon and Hugh Webb:

Duo for Violin and Viola in E minor, Op. 13 with Antje Weithaas and Tabea Zimmermann:

Sonata for Violin and Harp in C minor, a delightful recital by Jean-Jaques Kantorow and Susanna Mildonian:

Concertante No. 1 in G Major, WoO 13 for Violin, Harp and Orchestra (Adagio) with Ursula Holliger, Hansheinz Schneeberger and English Chamber Orchestra:

Concertante No. 2 in E minor, WoO 14 for Violin, Harp and Orchestra, (3rd movement) performed by English Chamber Orchestra, Ursula Holliger and Christoph Poppen under the baton of Heinz Holliger:

Symphonic works

Like Beethoven, Louis Spohr has nine symphonies to his name, and a tenth unfinished!

His Symphony No. 4 in F Major, Op. 86 ‘Die Weihe der Töne’ (The Consecration of Sound), was based on the poems of the same name by Carl Pfeiffer.

Overview from Naxos:

The first movement opens with a slow introduction, illustrating the profound silence before the creation of sound. The Allegro that follows, in traditional sonata form, includes the gentle sound of the breeze and woodwind bird-song, before the storm that forms the central section of the movement, to die out in the distance in the final bars. The second movement demonstrates the function of music as lullaby, dance and serenade, the last with a solo cello. All three finally combine in a conductor’s nightmare of varying bar-lines and tempi.

The third movement shows the role of music as an inspiration to courage, here with a narrative element. Soldiers depart for battle, while in a central trio section those remaining behind express their anxiety, followed by the victorious return of the marching troops and the song of thanksgiving. The final movement buries the dead, to the sound of the chorale ‘Begrabt den Leib’, leading to ultimate consolation in tears.

Here is a recording by the Budapest Symphony Orchestra and Alfred Walter:

Symphony No. 6 in G Major, Op.116 ‘Historical Symphony in the style and taste of four different periods’ composed in 1840, performance by Concertgebouw Amsterdam and Ton Koopman:

  1. Largo-Grave (Bach-Händel’sche Periode, 1720)
  2. Larghetto (Haydn-Mozart’sche Periode, 1780
  3. Scherzo (Beethoven’sche Periode, 1810)
  4. Allegro vivace (Allerneueste Periode, 1840)

Symphony No. 9 Op. 143 ‘The Seasons’ performed by Slovak State Philharmonic Orchestra under Alfred Walter:

 Harp and clarinet works

Spohr wrote a significant number of works for, and including the harp, which is entirely understandable as his first wife, Dorette Scheidler, was a renowned harp virtuoso. They were married for 28 years until her death in 1834.

Dorette Spohr, née Scheidler (1787-1834)

Dorette Spohr, née Scheidler (1787-1834)

Fantasie for Harp in C Major, Op. 35 with Lena-Maria Buchberger:

Clarinet Concerto No. 1 in C Major, Op. 26 (3rd movement) with Paul Meyer and the OCL:

Clarinet Concerto No. 2 in E-Flat Major, Op. 57 with Julian Bliss:

Clarinet Concerto No. 4 WoO 20, ‘Rondo al espagnol’ with Paul Meyer and Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne:

Chamber music 

Among his output of chamber music are 36 string quartets, 7 string quintets, a string sextet and 5 piano trios. Probably the most performed in modern repertoire are the Nonet and the Octet, for your listening pleasure below.

Octet in E Major, Op.32 with the Vienna Octet:

Nonet for Wind Quintet and Strings in F Major, Op. 31 with the Consortium Classicum Conducted by Dieter Klöcker:

Piano Trio No. 2 in F Major, Op. 123 with the Hartley Trio :

Concerto for String Quartet & Orchestra Op. 131 (1st movement), composed in Kassel during the last three months of 1845, performed here by Leipziger Streichquartett, Leipziger Kammerorchester and Sebastian Weigle:

Six German Songs 

Spohr’s Six German Songs for Soprano, Piano and Clarinet, Op. 103 are a delightful indulgence of his romantic side! These lovely performances are by Helen Donath, Klaus Donath and Dieter Kloecker:

  1. Be still my heart
  2. In a lilac bush sat a little bird
  3. Longing: I look into my heart
  1. Cradle Song: All is quiet in sweet peace
  2. The Secret Song: There are secret pains
  3. Awakening : Why do you stand and ponder 

 Operas

Of the ten operas Sphor composed the two most popular are Jessonda and Faust.

Jessonda

Jessonda was written in 1822 to the libretto by Eduard Gehe, based on Lemiere’s novel, La veuve de Malabar. Under Spohr’s baton it was first performed on 28th July 1823 in Kassel, and tells the story of an Indian princess (Jessonda), who is condemned to burn on her husband’s funeral pyre; as was the custom for a widow of a recently departed Rajah. She is ultimately spared by a young Brahmin (Nadori) and eventually rescued by the Portuguese General she was in love with (Tristan d’Acunha). It was popular in 19th and 20th century repertoire until it was banned by the Nazis.

Overture to Jessonda:

Jessonda – Selected highlights with Gerd Albrecht leading the Hamburg State Philharmonic Orchestra and Opera Chorus and Julia Varady and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in the main roles:

The Tristan Chord

So, the big question is, did Wagner take inspiration from Spohr to create his famous chord?

I might ignite some controversy here!

The Tristan Chord in Tristan und Isolde by Richard Wagner

The Tristan Chord in Tristan und Isolde by Richard Wagner from Wikipedia.

Much has been made of the Tristan Chord in the opening bars of Wagner’s beautiful, romantic opera, Tristan und Isolde; but composer and musician Dr. Dick Strawser, who was quite taken with aspects of Jessonda noticed the following:

Now, what I found in the vocal score of Spohr’s Jessonda – opening the main character’s entrance aria – was an almost identical passage: the same key, the same 6/8 meter and (as I recall) the same rhythms but, more importantly, virtually all the same pitches but one – the next-to-last note in Spohr is a C-natural, an “upper-neighbor” embellishment, where Wagner’s A-sharp is a chromatic passing tone.

Spohr composed his opera in 1823.

Yet no one calls it “The Jessonda Chord.” Nor does anyone accuse Wagner of plagiarism, either.

Was Jessonda so forgotten 25 years later that Wagner could steal this, even subconsciously, without anyone noticing? Hmmmm…

Wagner aficionado Stephen Fry:

A beautiful aria ‘Ich bin allein’ from Act Two of Faust:

Spohr the conductor  

Louis Spohr was one of the first musicians to use a baton when conducting. Imagine the orchestra’s surprise when their leader, instead of using his bow, put his violin down, took a wooden stick out of his pocket, got up and turned the music stand to face the orchestra where he proceeded to wave it about in time with the music.

Later in his musical career after he had scaled back his violin performance schedule, his reputation as an eminent conductor meant that he continued to receive many invitations to music festivals and various events, including the unveiling of Beethoven’s statue in Bonn in 1845.

He championed Wagner’s music and also played Beethoven’s late quartets, even though it seems he was as baffled by them as audiences were at the time. He also played with Beethoven during rehearsals of the Piano Trio No. 1 in D Major,  Op. 70 ‘The Ghost’ in 1808, commenting on how Beethoven, almost devoid of his earlier technical abilities, hammered away on the ivories and that his piano was out of tune, but he must have made allowances for Ludwig’s hearing loss.

A wonderful recording of ‘The Ghost’ with Daniel Barenboim, Jacqueline du Pre and Pinchas Zukerman:

Violin School

Spohr made many valuable contributions to violin technique in the early 19th century and was a proponent of the Mannheim School. He taught around 200 pupils during his career. If I ever find myself in Kassel I’ll be sure to visit his museum there!

Carry On Conducting: 10 Reasons why musicians need a Maestro

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I’m aware this post is a bit on the long side, (I hope you’ll stick with me), mainly because the subject matter is quite in-depth. I opted for a slightly meatier article as I didn’t want to just pay lip service to a profession that requires huge amounts of skill and dedication.

music-conductor-handsCertain conductors are just as famous and revered in their own right as the soloists and orchestras they wave their batons at; with reputations alone that can fill a concert hall. Here are the cream of the crop listed by surname, both past and present, across the alphabet:

Abbado, Alsop, Barbirolli, Barenboim, Beecham, Berlioz, Bernstein, Böhm, Boulez, Boult, Britten, Bülow, Celibidache, Chailly, Davis, Dudamel, Elliot-Gardner, Eschenbach, Furtwängler, Gergiev, Giulini, Hogwood, Haitink, Jansons, Järvi, Karajan, Kleiber, Klemeperer, Levine, Liszt, Maazel, Marriner, Masur, Mendelssohn, Muti, Nikisch, Norrington, Oramo, Ormandy, Ozawa, Pappano, Previn, Rattle, Rostropovich, Salonen, Sargent, Sinopoli, Solti, Stokowski, Szell, Tennstedt, Tilson-Thomas, Toscanini, Wagner…  I could go on forever!

Classical music fans tend to have their preferences. For some it’s their interpretation of a particular work, and for others, nothing less than hero worship. Leopold Stokowski was known for his innovative orchestral arrangements; and his enduring performance in Fantasia for Disney, which brought classical music to a whole decade of youngsters and continues to do so to this day.

Documentary – Stokowski at 88:

Leonard Bernstein’s talks on music educated a swathe of music lovers into understanding the master composers, along with his legendary teaching abilities.

Daniel Barenboim and his close friend, the late Palestinian-American academic Edward Said, jointly created the ground-breaking West-Eastern Divan Orchestra in 1999.  WEDO is a youth orchestra made up of musicians from the Midde East, namely Egypt, Iran, Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and Spain, being based in Seville. They are an example to us all through their unity and their music.  I saw them perform Beethoven’s 5th and 6th symphonies at the Royal Albert Hall for the 2012 BBC Proms. It was magical!

In Barenboim’s own words:

“The Divan is not a love story, and it is not a peace story. It has very flatteringly been described as a project for peace. It isn’t. It’s not going to bring peace, whether you play well or not so well. The Divan was conceived as a project against ignorance. A project against the fact that it is absolutely essential for people to get to know the other, to understand what the other thinks and feels, without necessarily agreeing with it. I’m not trying to convert the Arab members of the Divan to the Israeli point of view, and [I’m] not trying to convince the Israelis to the Arab point of view. But I want to – and unfortunately I am alone in this now that Edward died a few years ago – …create a platform where the two sides can disagree and not resort to knives.”

Herbert von Karajan, principle conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra for 35 years, was just epic in every sense of the word… But not loved by all: Save us from the resurrection of that old devil

Composer/conductor Jean-Baptise Lully (1632 – 1687) goes down in history as the only conductor to be mortally wounded in the pursuit of his craft.  Death by baton occurred when Lully staked himself in the foot with his long conducting staff during a performance of his Te Deum to mark Louis XIV’s recovery from surgery. The wound became infected, but Lully refused amputation and died of gangrene two months later.

They all had, and have, their special attributes, their individual quirks, that players and listeners either love or loathe.  But regardless of their personalities (which do in part help to cement their reputations), it’s their innate skill to understand the music and bring out the best in their ensembles and orchestras that fascinates us as much as their ferocious expressions when a beat was missed or a note played out of tune.

Documentary – The Art of Conducting – Legendary Conductors of a Golden Era:

Over the years they have been sent up as bumbling idiots presiding over a rabble of musicians… Rowan Atkinson conducting Beethoven never fails to amuse!

In the third chapter of my novel, The Virtuoso, I briefly explore the role of the conductor from the protagonist’s view point (after all, she is married to one!) In my story he is a little unhinged, so I’m making un-reserved apologies now to all conductors: I’m not saying you are all egomaniacs like the character Howard Miller, who is derived solely from my imagination!

Throughout the evening Isabelle observed Howard intently. She had never really seen him in action before, as their schedules hadn’t been conducive to joint collaborations. It was one of the few times his normally furrowed face was free of lines, and just animated. He waved the baton rhythmically, first low by his waist when the music came to a quiet section, and then as the tension built and it came to a crescendo he was more forcible; also using his left arm, raising it, and sometimes shaking it slightly to indicate to the strings that he wanted more volume or intensity. It was certainly a skill that she greatly admired. No matter how good the individual players in an orchestra were, the resulting experience of the audience was also impacted largely by the role of the conductor. He was the sculptor shaping and carving the flow of time and the form of the music, living and breathing the notes with his orchestra. But it was a skill that involved so much more than beating out time. Part of his job was to embody the character of the music, as well as to deeply understand the tempo and phraseology of the work, and how the abilities and ranges of his musicians and their instruments could express the essence of the music in each moment.

It was a delicate eco-system she mused: the conductor could have all the mechanics and knowledge at his disposal but without the attribute of being able to physically communicate his feelings evoked by the music to his players, through his meaningful actions of the baton, his arms, his hands, his fingers, eyes and the gestures of his personality, and have them respond accordingly, it would not elevate them all as group to an exalted performance. Most conductors were also proficient or virtuosic on an instrument themselves. These were the attributes that were needed to be a really great conductor.

She had been impressed to learn that Howard could listen to a score as he looked at it, hearing the printed notes in his head before a single note had been played. She knew he was fastidious about preparation and could anticipate where his musicians might make mistakes during a performance.  He had quoted Leonard Bernstein to her on one occasion. ‘Isabelle, conducting is like breathing; the preparation is the inhalation, and the music sounds as exhalation. I have to always be a breath ahead of them.’

What was it that set apart the big names from the ones who didn’t quite make it on to the world stage?  The likes of Karajan, Barenboim and Bernstein who had achieved their iconic status had an intangible magic about their relationships with their respective orchestras. She wasn’t sure if Howard shared their passion, he seemed to exhibit more of a cold ambition.

Respect on both sides was essential, but it had to be more than that. It had to be total commitment. Love for the music created an energy that brought it to life for the audience.

Interestingly, The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields (named after the eponymous London church where they are based) was created by Sir Neville Marriner in 1959 as a small string ensemble that would perform minus a conductor, but has since evolved to a larger group now with a conductor.

Mendelssohn founded the first tradition of modern conducting based on the concept of precision by using a baton about 150 years ago.

Big Think gives us food for thought:

Maestro we need you!

  1. Co-ordination especially larger orchestras
  2. Understanding complex music
  3. Efficiency
  4. Preparation & Interpretation
  5. Perception of the inner meanings of music
  6. Powers of communication & inspiration
  7. Knowledge of the cultural background of the composer & context of the work
  8. Balance, dynamics, style & tempo
  9. Sculptor of time, not just the beats but the form, the whole phraseology of the work
  10. Intangibles – Conductor & orchestra bound together in the moment, creating a physical response in the listener.

London Symphony Orchestra conducting masterclass:

I love this eloquent extract from Leonard Bernstein as he describes a conductor’s role in his book, The Joy of Music:

“But the conductor must not only make his orchestra play; he must make them want to play. He must exalt them, lift them, start their adrenalin pouring, either through cajoling or demanding or raging. But however he does it, he must make the orchestra love the music as he loves it. It is not so much imposing his will on them like a dictator; it is more like projecting his feelings around him so that they reach the last man in the second violin section. And when this happens – when one hundred men share his feelings, exactly, simultaneously, responding as one to the rise and fall of the music, to each point of arrival and departure, to each little inner pulse- then there is a human identity of feeling that has no equal elsewhere. It is the closest thing I know to love itself.  On the current of love the conductor can communicate at the deepest levels with his players, and ultimately with his audience. He may shout and rant and curse and insult his players at rehearsal- as some of our greatest conductors are famous for doing – but if there is this love, the conductor and his orchestra will remain knit together through it all and function as one.

Well, there is our ideal conductor. And perhaps the chief requirement of all is that he be humble before the composer; that he never interpose himself between the music and the audience; that all his efforts, however strenuous or glamorous, be made in the service of the composer’s meaning- the music itself, which, after all, is the whole reason for the conductor’s existence.”

In some cases the composer himself is the conductor. Nothing new there. But – when his composition skills outweigh his conducting skills and he can’t hear, that’s a brave undertaking indeed!

Beethoven conductingIn conclusion, I am reminded of the words of the soprano Wilhemine Schroder-Devrient in 1822, recalling her experiences of singing the role of Leonore in a revived production of Beethoven’s Fidelio at the Kärntnertortheater in Vienna, with dear Ludwig himself conducting:

“At that time the Master’s physical ear was already deaf to all tone. With confusion written on his face, with more than earthly enthusiasm in his eye, swinging his baton to and fro with violent motions, he stood in the midst of the playing musicians and did not hear a single note! When he thought they should play piano, he almost crept under the conductor’s desk, and when he wanted a forte, he leaped high into the air with the strangest gestures, uttering the weirdest sounds. With each succeeding number we grew more intimidated, and I felt as though I were gazing at one of Hoffman’s fantastic figures which had popped up before me.  It was unavoidable that the deaf Master should throw singers and orchestra into the greatest confusion and put them entirely off beat until none knew where they were at. Of all this, Beethoven was entirely unconscious, and thus with the utmost difficulty we concluded a rehearsal with which he seemed altogether content, for he laid down his baton with a happy smile.”

The image this passage conveys always brings a smile to my face.