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    Pressed About Putin, Russian Conductor Quits Bolshoi and French Posts

    The Bolshoi music director, Tugan Sokhiev, said he was “asked to choose one cultural tradition” over another and denounce President Putin for invading Ukraine.A prominent Russian conductor said on Sunday that he would resign from his positions with two orchestras — at the storied Bolshoi Theater in Moscow and in Toulouse, France — after facing intense pressure to condemn President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.The conductor, Tugan Sokhiev, had faced demands from French officials that he clarify his position on the war before his next appearance with the Orchestre National du Capitole de Toulouse later this month. In his statement on Sunday, in which he said he would “always be against any conflicts,” Mr. Sokhiev said he felt he was being forced to pick between the two ensembles.“I am being asked to choose one cultural tradition over” another, Mr. Sokhiev said in the statement. “I am being asked to choose one artist over the other.”Both in Toulouse and at the Bolshoi, he wrote, he regularly invited Ukrainian artists. “We never even thought about our nationalities,” he wrote. “We were enjoying making music together.”Officials in Toulouse, where Mr. Sokhiev has served as music director of the orchestra since 2008, said they were saddened by his decision. They denied pressuring him into picking between Russia and France.“We never expected or, worse, demanded that Tugan make a choice between his native country and his beloved city of Toulouse,” the mayor of Toulouse, Jean-Luc Moudenc, said in a statement. “It wouldn’t have made any sense. However, it was unthinkable to imagine that he would remain silent in the face of the war situation, both vis-à-vis the musicians and the public and the community.”In his statement, Mr. Sokhiev said that “being forced to face the impossible option of choosing between my beloved Russian and beloved French musicians I have decided to resign from my positions” at both the Bolshoi in Moscow and Orchestre National du Capitole de Toulouse “with immediate effect.”Mr. Sokhiev’s decision comes during a tense moment in the performing arts, as some cultural institutions are putting pressure on Russian artists to distance themselves from the war and Mr. Putin. Some artists have been caught in the middle, eager to maintain their international careers but worried they could face consequences at home for denouncing Mr. Putin.Some institutions in the West have demanded that Russian artists issue statements against Mr. Putin as a prerequisite for performing. Others are examining social media posts to ensure performers have not made contentious statements about the war. Several organizations have dropped Russian works from their programs, including the Polish National Opera, which recently canceled a production of Mussorgsky’s “Boris Godunov.”Mr. Sokhiev, who was born in 1977 in the Russian city of Vladikavkaz, near the border with Georgia, and was the principal conductor of the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester in Berlin until 2016, is as of now still scheduled to appear with the New York Philharmonic starting on March 31.Mr. Sokhiev declined a request for comment from The New York Times. The New York Philharmonic did not immediately comment on his statement, in which he said he was concerned that Russian artists were facing discrimination.He wrote in the statement that he could not bear “to witness how my fellow colleagues, artists, actors, singers, dancers, directors are being menaced, treated disrespectfully and being victims of so called ‘cancel culture.’”“We musicians,” he added, “are the ambassadors of peace.” More

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    After a Punishing Sprint, Yannick Nézet-Séguin Can Celebrate

    The Met Opera and Philadelphia Orchestra conductor recently took a break because of exhaustion. Then he found himself in the middle of a performance marathon.However busy your past two weeks were, Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s were probably busier.On Feb. 21, he conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra in the conclusion of its Beethoven cycle at Carnegie Hall, and was planning, in the days ahead, to lead the opening of a new production of Verdi’s “Don Carlos” at the Metropolitan Opera, followed soon after by a revival of Puccini’s “Tosca.”Nothing out of the ordinary for him, as the music director of both institutions. But that Thursday — as the Vienna Philharmonic dropped Valery Gergiev from its three-day stint at Carnegie over his ties to President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia — Nézet-Séguin got a call asking if he could step in. He said yes.“I said the only condition is, I need to tell the orchestra, ‘You won’t be able to rehearse with me a lot, because it’s just not possible,’” Nézet-Séguin recalled in a recent interview.He wasn’t lying. On the afternoon of Friday, Feb. 25, he was at the Met to lead the final dress rehearsal for “Don Carlos” — which, with intermissions, runs nearly five hours. Then, after a short break, he was able to meet with the Vienna Philharmonic for just 75 minutes to prepare Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto and Second Symphony, which together run longer than 90 minutes.At 8 p.m., the concert began. The resulting performance would have been a triumph even under normal circumstances. But Nézet-Séguin didn’t have long to celebrate: “Tosca” had to be rehearsed on Saturday, not to mention that night’s Vienna program.Nézet-Séguin ended up on the podium every day for a weeklong marathon, including an overnight trip to Florida to lead the Vienna Philharmonic in Naples. On Friday, his day off, he taught at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia and was back in New York the next day for “Tosca,” then “Don Carlos” on Sunday — his 47th birthday.Nézet-Séguin leading the Vienna Philharmonic, with the pianist Seong-Jin Cho, in the first of its three concerts at Carnegie Hall.Chris LeeIt’s a maddening schedule, reminiscent of Nézet-Séguin’s early career of perpetual overbooking and occasional cancellations. Last fall, signs of that lifestyle began to creep back: two contemporary operas at the Met, along with revivals and concerts there before opening night and a Beethoven cycle (part of what has ballooned into a staggering 14 appearances for him at Carnegie Hall this season). Facing exhaustion, he took a three-week break starting in mid-December, withdrawing from a run of Mozart’s “Le Nozze di Figaro” at the Met and two performances in Philadelphia.“Maybe the fact that my energies were recharged recently meant that I could be up for this,” he said.During a phone call while en route to New York on Saturday, Nézet-Séguin reflected on that much-needed hiatus, and how he got through his recent grind. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.What made you want to say yes to Vienna?My first instinct as a conductor is that I want to help.I have been making some hard decisions in the past decade, about certain opportunities in Europe with orchestras that I have developed relationships with, like Vienna. But my first responsibility is to the institutions that I am the leader of: It’s the Met, it’s Philadelphia, it’s Orchestre Métropolitain in Montreal.So I end up having to say no very often. And now here they are, and Carnegie — which has been such a great partner of mine at the Philadelphia Orchestra — needs my help. It didn’t take much time for me to say yes.How did you use that 75-minute rehearsal?When I said yes, I knew that if I took a two- or three-hour rehearsal in the morning, the energy needed would be too much. So the orchestra told me what they needed most from me, and we fixed two or three obvious spots in the Rachmaninoff symphony. But this appeals to what a conductor should be doing. You just make things work. The Rachmaninoff thrives on being free and beautiful. Some things need to be clear, but some things just need to be in the moment. I could never be stressed, because if I start to be stressed, then everyone is, and the result is bad for the audience.Because of the Vienna concerts, you were suddenly holding seven additional works in your head. How did you manage that, on top of “Don Carlos” and “Tosca”?It takes a lot of discipline, because I have music constantly in my head, but rarely the piece that I’m about to do. When I’m juggling a lot of pieces like this, I have to almost press play on a recording, a mental recording. So the day of the Rachmaninoff, I had to force myself to open up the score to get in the right mode. I had a bit more time on Saturday to recuperate and study, but I purposefully decided to not prepare for Sunday. If you take it one day at a time, it really helps.Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to make a habit of these things. Someone from the Met Orchestra asked me, “Have you ever been more busy?” My answer was: I think yes, in my early years as a conductor. I had two different choirs and I was still doing recitals and chamber music, and I was already conducting my Baroque ensemble. I feel like what I’ve been doing this week is rooted in years of experience juggling different repertoire.“I feel like what I’ve been doing this week,” Nézet-Séguin said, “is rooted in years of experience juggling different repertoire.”Jingyu Lin for The New York TimesPhysically and mentally, how did you prepare and unwind?I needed to study a lot, so I really couldn’t think about rest or anything like that. I usually work out very regularly, and that helps for these moments. But now I could not work out simply because one, I didn’t have time, and two, I thought this was also physically demanding.The morning I got the call from Carnegie, I was actually working out with my personal trainer from Montreal, a virtual workout, and I told her, “I would like to focus on shoulders and back because I just feel like it’s been a while.” At that point I thought, Oh, I’m just doing the dress rehearsal of “Don Carlos.” Then two hours later I got this call.Part of my ritual after performances is to go a restaurant or cafe for a quiet meal, whether with my husband, Pierre, or with close friends. In this case, I needed to keep it much more quiet and just go home. Usually my go-to is HGTV; my favorite is “House Hunters” or anything about the Caribbean or island life. But now I tried to unwind with chamomile tea, and with some smooth R&B and a bath. Last night, I realized that I did not watch TV for the past week.In December, you withdrew from performances in New York and Philadelphia.I want to stress that what I did was a three-week break that’s kind of a normal three weeks that people take around the holiday. I don’t want to underestimate what it’s like to cancel those, but I want to put it back in perspective. The fall had been especially intense.The summer, even. You conducted Mahler’s Second Symphony and Verdi’s Requiem at the Met before the season began.Absolutely. For me, it’s a question of being aware of your limitations. What people don’t see is what it needs to put on a concert or an opera. It’s not just rehearsals and studying. It’s a lot of discussions, emails, meetings, conversations, Zoom calls. That’s part of my job, but it can — especially as we re-emerge from the pandemic — be really taxing.It really was the mind: I didn’t want to push my mind to the extent that maybe at some point my body would react in the way of becoming sick. Because that’s a big catastrophe, if I have to drop out of several performances the day before. I thought it was better to plan something before that happened. It was really three weeks without even opening a score. It cleared the mind, in the best way.What did that teach you, then, about planning for the future?This scramble at the beginning of the season was something that I wanted to do. But I eventually managed, by doing little adjustments here and there in my schedule, to plan the next seasons with a certain percentage of less work, less commitment — and better balance of weeks and days here and there where I can just regroup and breathe. I didn’t need to go into that recent break to know that, and this fall was just this exceptional moment. But in the future, my life will be better.Are you at least able to do anything for your birthday, since you have “Don Carlos”?My parents are coming to New York. I’m going to have some kind of family celebration after. I let them organize it; it’s a surprise.And then you’ll have plenty of time for HGTV.I promise you, I will. More

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    Too Close to Putin? Institutions Vet Artists, Uncomfortably.

    Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has led arts organizations to reconsider who performs, forcing them to confront questions about free speech and policing political views.In Canada, an acclaimed 20-year-old Russian pianist’s concert was canceled amid concerns about his silence on the invasion of Ukraine. The music director of an orchestra in Toulouse, France — who is also the chief conductor at the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow — was instructed to clarify his position on the war before his next appearance. In New York, Anna Netrebko, one of opera’s biggest stars, saw her reign at the Metropolitan Opera end after she declined to denounce President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia.As global condemnation of Russia’s attack on Ukraine grows, cultural institutions have moved with surprising speed to put pressure on Russian artists to distance themselves from Mr. Putin, a collision of art and politics that is forcing organizations to confront questions about free speech and whether they should be policing artists’ views.Institutions are demanding that artists who have supported Mr. Putin in the past issue clear condemnations of the Russian president and his invasion as a prerequisite for performing. Others are checking their rosters and poring over social media posts to ensure Russian performers have not made contentious statements about the war. The Polish National Opera has gone so far as to drop a production of Mussorgsky’s “Boris Godunov,” one of the greatest Russian operas, to express “solidarity with the people of Ukraine.”The tensions pose a dilemma for cultural institutions and those who support them. Many have long tried to stay above the fray of current events, and have a deep belief in the role the arts can play in bridging divides. Now arts administrators, who have scant geopolitical expertise, find themselves in the midst of one of the most politically charged issues in recent decades, with little in the way of experience to draw on.“We’re facing a totally new situation,” Andreas Homoki, the artistic director of the Zurich Opera, said. “Politics was never on our mind like this before.”The new scrutiny of Russian artists threatens to upend decades of cultural exchange that endured even during the depths of the Cold War, when the Soviet Union and the West sent artists back and forth amid fears of nuclear war. The Russian maestro Valery Gergiev, who has long been close to Mr. Putin, was fired as chief conductor of the Munich Philharmonic and saw his international engagements dry up. The Hermitage Amsterdam, an art museum, broke ties with the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. The Bolshoi Ballet lost engagements in London and Madrid.Citing that Cold War tradition, the Cliburn — a foundation in Fort Worth named for the American pianist Van Cliburn, whose victory at the International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow in 1958 was seen as a sign that art could transcend political differences — announced that it would welcome 15 Russian-born pianists to audition next week for the 2022 Cliburn Competition, noting that they are not officials of their government.Jacques Marquis, the president and chief executive of the Cliburn, said the organization felt it was important to speak out as it watched Russian artists come under scrutiny. “We can help the world by standing our ground and focusing on the music and on the artists,” he said.The American pianist Van Cliburn’s victory at the International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow in 1958 was seen as a sign, at the height of the Cold War, that art could transcend political differences.The Van Cliburn FoundationEven as many institutions are eager to show support for Ukraine, and to distance themselves from artists who embrace Mr. Putin, they are uncomfortable with trying to vet the views of performers — and worry that Russian artists, who must often rely on the support of the state for their careers to thrive at home, could face reprisals if forced to publicly disavow the Kremlin.“You can’t just put everybody under general suspicion now,” said Alexander Neef, the director of the Paris Opera. “You can’t demand declarations of allegiance or condemnations of what’s going on.”The situation is tense and fast moving. Leaders of organizations are facing pressure from donors, board members and audiences, not to mention waves of anger on social media, where campaigns to cancel several Russian artists have rapidly gained traction.Institutions are also grappling with what to do about the Russians who are among their most important donors. On Wednesday the Guggenheim Museum announced that Vladimir O. Potanin, one of Russia’s richest men and a major benefactor, was stepping down as one of its trustees.Leila Getz, the founder and artistic director of a recital series in Vancouver, Canada, canceled an appearance by the Russian pianist Alexander Malofeev planned for August. Mr. Malofeev, 20, had not made any statements on the war, nor did he have any known ties to Mr. Putin. But Ms. Getz issued a statement saying she could not “in good conscience present a concert by any Russian artist at this moment in time unless they are prepared to speak out publicly against this war.”Soon she received dozens of messages. Some accused her of overstepping and demanded that Mr. Malofeev be allowed to perform.In an interview, Ms. Getz defended her decision, saying she was worried about the potential for protests. She said she had not asked Mr. Malofeev to condemn the war and that she was concerned for his safety.“The first things that came to my mind were, why would I want to bring a 20-year-old Russian pianist to Vancouver and have him faced with protests and people misbehaving inside the concert hall and hooting and screaming and hollering?” she said.Mr. Malofeev declined to comment. In a statement posted on Facebook, he said, “The truth is that every Russian will feel guilty for decades because of the terrible and bloody decision that none of us could influence and predict.”On Friday the Annapolis Symphony in Maryland announced that it would replace the Russian violinist Vadim Repin, who had been scheduled to play a Shostakovich concerto in upcoming concerts, “out of respect to Repin’s apolitical stance and concerns for the safety of himself and his family.”“We don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable, even impossible position,” the orchestra’s executive director, Edgar Herrera, said in a statement. In an interview, Mr. Herrera said that there had been threats to disrupt Mr. Repin’s performances and that the symphony was concerned that hosting a Russian artist could hurt its image and alienate donors.Deciding which artists are too close to Mr. Putin is not easy. Mr. Gergiev, the longtime general and artistic director of the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, has a relationship with Mr. Putin that goes back decades, and he has often supported the government’s policies. Mr. Gergiev led concerts in 2008 in South Ossetia, a breakaway region of Georgia that was aided by Russian troops, and at the Syrian site of Palmyra in 2016 after it was retaken by Syrian and Russian forces.Ms. Netrebko, the star soprano, issued a statement opposing the war in Ukraine but withdrew from performing after declining to distance herself from Mr. Putin, whom she has expressed support for in the past. The war brought renewed attention to a photograph from 2014 of her holding a flag used by Russian-backed separatists in Ukraine.The pianist Evgeny Kissin, who was born in Moscow, said he believed that “supporters of a criminal war waged by a dictator and a mass murderer should have no place on the concert stages of the civilized world.”Milan Bures for The New York TimesThe eminent pianist Evgeny Kissin, who was born in Moscow and is now based in Prague, said that while many artists in Russia needed to support Mr. Putin to some degree because their institutions relied on state aid, others went too far. He said he believed that “supporters of a criminal war waged by a dictator and a mass murderer should have no place on the concert stages of the civilized world.”He added that while he thought it was natural for Western institutions to ask Mr. Putin’s most prominent supporters to speak out against the war, he did not think it should be required of artists who had not been particularly political in the past.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 5Anna Netrebko. More

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    A Musician’s Turn to Improvisation Bears Fruit

    The pianist and composer Eric Wubbels’s work has achieved new heights in an album of collaborations with two younger artists.A few years ago, as his 40th birthday loomed, the pianist Eric Wubbels had reasons to be content. He had a steady career as a performer and composer in New York, where he gave frequent concerts with the Wet Ink Ensemble — the celebrated contemporary classical group he had directed with a close crew of collaborators for more than a decade. But he could also see another route for himself, one that led outside the city.What would it be like to have a grand piano at home? Getting off the treadmill of commissions and performances seemed worth considering, too. Still, he wasn’t looking for a holiday.“The idea I came to around that time is that this is the last moment to do the big growth,” Wubbels said in a recent interview. “Whatever growth is going to happen as a musician, as an artist — psychologically, like in my personality — better get started on it.”To many outside observers, Wubbels was in no need of a maturity makeover. Other musicians have described him as one of the most engaged and generous collaborators on the new music scene. In my experience as a listener, he conducts the complex orchestral music of composers like Ingrid Laubrock with the same care he devotes to his own scores.You can hear his fine-tuned attention to detail and expressive abandon in a work like “gretchen am spinnrade,” which he wrote for the cellist Mariel Roberts. After an opening of harshly repeating piano-and-cello oscillations, there’s a short window of escape, during which Wubbels’s piano part explodes beyond its initial, constricted range. But as burns go, this is a controlled one: Within a few seconds, more nuanced dynamics predominate, which in turn seed fresh articulations and motifs. The movement feels untamed and considered in equal measure.A major change came, though, with the pandemic in 2020 — around the time he was turning 40. Wubbels and his wife moved to western Massachusetts, where they had found an affordable place that was roomy enough for a grand piano. And while there, he began to deepen his engagement with improvisation.“It’s kind of a risky thing to do,” he said. “At a certain point, no one is interested in you being a beginner.”Two years later, some promising results have come into view. A new album on the Out of Your Head label, “Field of Action / contraposition,” documents complementary collaborations with two younger musicians.In “Field of Action” — an edited suite of Wubbels’s improvisations with Charmaine Lee, a vocalist who uses electronics and feedback — he used harsh synth textures and inside-the-piano scrapes to merge with her approach. And in Weston Olencki, a trombone player with an exceptional feel for extended technique and torrential riffing, he found a willing partner for a fixed composition, “contraposition.”These works reflect some of that growth Wubbels was after, and make for his most arresting album as a composer-performer yet. To celebrate the release, he appeared with Lee and Olencki at Roulette on Monday; the concert is streaming on the venue’s website and YouTube account.At Roulette, nothing from the album was performed per se. Even with snippets of notated material, Wubbels’s improvisations with Lee are all unique. And Olencki helped bring a new Wubbels piece into the world: “Beings (I.X.),” for brass quintet and piano — a tribute to Iannis Xenakis’s 1964 “Eonta” (which was written for similar forces).But whereas Xenakis was notably skeptical of John Cage’s “chance music” procedures, and improvisation generally, Wubbels is not. In this nearly hourlong piece — three times the length of the work that inspired it — Wubbels has reimagined the Xenakis for a group of leading light improvisers and new-music specialists, including the trumpeters Nate Wooley and Forbes Graham, as well as the tuba player Dan Peck, the horn player David Byrd-Marrow and Olencki.The result is both an encomium and an acknowledgment of music’s progress since the days of Xenakis. In an email after the concert, Wubbels said that his work was not a critique of prior strains in modernist thinking, but was instead “a celebration of the fact that things are so different now.” He added, “There are all of these amazing players now who are really fluent and expert in both performing highly detailed notated music and improvising creatively across a broad range of musical contexts.”“Beings (I.X.)” makes the most of that contemporary fluidity, shifting from breathy or noisy individual zones of exploration to sensitive group improvisation and dense passages of notation. As usual, Wubbels’s own playing is an eye-popping highlight: His brief piano solo, about 34 minutes into the piece, shows that he hasn’t been wasting time with his instrument up in Massachusetts. And his penchant for detuning or preparing only a few notes in the piano — and revealing them in dramatic moments — recalls prior works in his catalog, like “gretchen am spinnrade.”“I think of that stuff now as an orchestrational device,” Wubbels said of his prepared piano designs. “It’s just enough denaturing that you can put one prepared note in a chord, and it changes the timbre of the instrument in a way that’s really hard to define. Rather than it being a Cage ‘I want to sound like a gamelan’ thing.”Throughout “Beings (I.X.),” Wubbels fuses the contemplative, obsessive space of early American Minimalism and the vibrant complexity of the post-World War II European avant-garde; transitions clearly indebted to legacies of jazz-informed improvisation act as soldering material. It’s a bracing hour of music that, with references to many traditions, sounds like nothing by any other composer.Wubbels moved from New York to western Massachusetts, a life change that coincided with explorations in improvisation.Tony Luong for The New York TimesThe specificity of Wubbels’s vision is what attracted both Lee and Olencki. In separate interviews, they described finding early Wet Ink Ensemble records while in college. Lee said she “intellectually crushed on him” after finding scores in the library of the New England Conservatory, where she was studying jazz voice. After she moved to New York in 2016, Wet Ink commissioned a large ensemble piece from her, and she built a rapport with Wubbels from there.“He has spent the past couple of decades really homing in on this method, one that results in hyper articulation on the page, but also in the music — it’s a highly precise execution,” she said. She described the improvisational practice as similarly disciplined, but instead privileging “rigorous presence over rehearsed precision.”Olencki cold emailed Wubbels in 2014, when he was finishing up his classical trombone studies at Northwestern University. He asked for the hardest piece Wubbels might have for him. After the composer replied with a work by his colleague Alexandre Lunsqui, Olencki — in what he called “a very 21-year-old move” — devoured it, mocked up a recording, and sent it back the same day.“Collaboration is a buzzword that people love to use these days,” Olencki said. Yet he characterized the long-term engagement Wubbels offers as something appreciably different: “Let’s hang out and be human beings around each other and then work super hard.” He also noted that, as Wubbels was learning how to write for his approach to the trombone, he solicited Olencki’s views, asking, “How does this feel, to play this?”As Olencki was describing this, I felt I could say the same regarding some of my own reactions to Wubbels’s works as a listener. It’s “incredibly caring music,” Olencki said. “Every single bit of it is like: ‘I have thought and considered every facet of this, not for my own ego, but because I care about this music.’ It’s rarer than I would like. I find it to be really, really inspiring.” More

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    Review: At the Philharmonic, a Conductor Is the Star

    In a program without soloist vehicles, the focus was on Herbert Blomstedt, a 94-year-old elder statesman of classical music.It’s probably safe to say that Herbert Blomstedt will not be the New York Philharmonic’s next music director.When Jaap van Zweden leaves the orchestra in spring 2024, Blomstedt will be nearly 96. Who would want to take on the burden of an orchestra at that age? Which is not to say that he couldn’t: Blomstedt maintains a dauntingly busy schedule, with a varied repertory of long, heavy lifts that includes Nielsen’s Fourth Symphony — named, fittingly, “The Inextinguishable.”On Thursday at Alice Tully Hall, he paired the Nielsen with another symphonic testament to what that composer would call “the spirit of life”: Beethoven’s Fifth. In a time when each guest conductor’s appearance at the Philharmonic — and the orchestra is in a six-week stretch of them — feels like an audition, there was a certain relief, even joy, in hearing a concert purely for its own sake.Beethoven demonstrated through his music, though, that alongside joy is a duty to face and engage with political reality. In recent days, cultural institutions around the world have been forced to confront their relationships with artists who have ties to President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia, following his invasion of Ukraine.With reckoning has come solidarity. The Metropolitan Opera opened Monday’s performance with the Ukrainian national anthem, and on Thursday, Blomstedt led the Philharmonic in a grand treatment of it. Gestures like this are rousing reminders that we can never truly separate art and politics, but are they enough? Imagine if, in addition to a program insert dedicating the concert “to the strength, courage and resilience of those resisting Russia’s invasion,” the Philharmonic had offered a vehicle for aid to Ukraine.Otherwise the statement comes and goes, as it did on Thursday. The audience and musicians, who had been standing for the anthem, took their seats, and, with little pause, Blomstedt gave the downbeat for the Nielsen — a choice made all the more jarring because the Fourth opens as if in media res. From that moment, in a program of just two symphonies and no star soloist, the focus was on Blomstedt.He might bristle at that. Famously modest, he wields authority at the podium with minimal means, leading symphonic accounts that are notable less for what they say than what they don’t. “The Inextinguishable,” written in the shadow of World War I and reflecting it in dueling timpani sets, can easily be milked for drama. But Blomstedt follows the score closely, faithfully, with the trust that it will speak for itself.This approach occasionally leaves me wanting more — accustomed as I am to the bloated grandeur of stereotypical 20th-century performance practice or the leaner, speedier sound of historically informed styles — but it is most often clarifying. Blomstedt’s reading of the Nielsen, controlled but unmannered, was one of sublime balance. The second movement’s wind choir interlude had the gentle movement and harmony of a morning walk among trees and bird song. Later, there was a shock in the starkness of strings bowed heavily in unison. The finale built slowly, and seemed to end as openly as the symphony had begun: the closing measure’s crescendo not a sweep so much as a shine with lingering radiance.In the Nielsen, the Philharmonic players were willing partners in their guest’s vision. Yet old habits emerged in the Beethoven. It’s a work, Blomstedt wryly noted in a recent interview, that he has been hearing for nearly a century. But this orchestra has been playing it much longer — since its first concert, in 1842 — and most recently has been trained to give it a hellfire treatment under van Zweden’s baton.For the most part, though, Blomstedt kept its force in check, in an interpretation free from excess. He never made too much of a fermata — especially in the famous four-note opening motif — and subtly rejected notions of fate knocking at the door, relishing instead the symphony’s exploration of motivic obsession. If this is a work often described as a journey from darkness to light, Blomstedt embraced life-affirming optimism from the start; passages suggesting adversity were met with insistent dignity.It would be easy to link this concert to current events. Indeed, that program insert encouraged the audience to do so, with a paragraph about the music’s “tribute to the fortitude of the human spirit in the face of the fiercest adversity.” But part of Beethoven’s enduring appeal is his triumph in making the personal universal, and that’s what Blomstedt’s conducting reflected: the ability of music, at its best, to speak to any time or place.New York PhilharmonicThis program repeats through Saturday at Alice Tully Hall, Manhattan; nyphil.org. More

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    Review: A Soprano’s Sound Floods the Met in ‘Ariadne’

    Lise Davidsen unleashed rare grandeur of tone throughout her range in the title role of Strauss’s opera.“Did you see ‘Ariadne’ last night?” a friend wrote to me on Wednesday. “If you were in Brooklyn, you still may have heard it.”I had seen it, and I knew immediately that by “it” he meant “her”: the soprano Lise Davidsen, who as the title character of Strauss’s “Ariadne auf Naxos” filled the mighty Metropolitan Opera on Tuesday in a way few singers can.Unleashing floods throughout her range, from gleaming, solar high notes to brooding depths, Davidsen offered a nearly supernatural turn in a role out of Greek legend. The radiating, shimmering, ever so slightly metallic overtones that halo her voice make her sound arrestingly powerful and visceral. You feel it as almost physical presence — pressing against your chest, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. Given Strauss’s paring down of his orchestra in “Ariadne” to chamber size, this is the rare occasion when the woman onstage sounds grander at her peak than the forces in the pit do at theirs.It was one of the brilliant ideas of this composer and his librettist, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, to hold their leading lady largely in reserve in a backstage prologue depicting her as an unnamed Prima Donna taking part in the preparations for a nobleman’s evening entertainment. Things turn chaotic when word comes down: Because of time constraints, the somber drama in which she is to star will not play back to back, but simultaneously, with a troupe of clowns. A collision — and union — of hilarity and sublimity ensues.Brenda Rae, left, as Zerbinetta and Isabel Leonard as Composer in “Ariadne” at the Metropolitan Opera.Marty Sohl/Met OperaThe unleashing of an Ariadne in the opera proper is always a thrill for being so tantalizingly delayed — all the more so with Davidsen, 35, a soft-spoken, witty, even daffy presence in the prologue, suddenly endowed with a queenly stature that she fills and overflows. In the role that first brought her international notice a few years ago, she comes off as timeless without losing her youthfulness, penetrating even at more intimate volume than full cry.The conductor Marek Janowski also charted the transition from a lively sound in the prologue to a suaver, more sumptuous one, moving with nimble energy throughout. The baritone Johannes Martin Kränzle was a vigorous, characterful Music Master; the mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard, a delicate, subtly rending Composer.It was too bad that as Zerbinetta, the clowns’ ringleader, the soprano Brenda Rae made less of an impression. Rae performs with charming vivacity, and the part — a kind of Straussian Ado Annie — is more congenial for her than was Poppea in Handel’s “Agrippina” at the Met in 2020. But she still sounded pale. Zerbinetta’s quick-witted coloratura should hold its own next to Ariadne’s spacious majesty, admittedly a next-to-impossible task on Tuesday.Davidsen’s voice still seemed to be ringing in the theater the following evening, when another soprano, Aleksandra Kurzak, offered a more modest performance, in her role debut as Puccini’s Tosca.At the Met on Wednesday, the soprano Aleksandra Kurzak sang the title role in Puccini’s “Tosca” for the first time.Ken Howard/Met OperaFlirtatious and spirited in the first act, Kurzak found her instrument pressed to, and past, its limits in the high — eventually homicidal — drama of the second. Her real-life husband, the tenor Roberto Alagna, sounded sometimes fresh and sometimes worn as Tosca’s passionate lover, Cavaradossi. Bringing out piquant details all over, Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the Met’s music director, luxuriated in the score — a bit too rhapsodically, as momentum kept slackening.This “Tosca,” entertaining even if imperfect, was an opera. The “Ariadne,” thanks to Davidsen, was an enactment of all that opera can do to us and our bodies, how helplessly in thrall to the human voice we can be.Davidsen has already been exciting at the Met in Tchaikovsky’s “Queen of Spades” and Wagner’s “Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.” But her singing is so lavish in its scale that it can swamp even semi-realistic plots. It seems ideal for Wagner’s more mythic works, and thrives in Ariadne’s opulent stylization; here is a role Davidsen was truly born for.Ariadne auf NaxosThrough March 17 at the Metropolitan Opera, Manhattan. And “Tosca” continues there through March 12; metopera.org. More

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    A Conductor Brings Nearly a Century of Experience to Beethoven

    Herbert Blomstedt, 94 and leading the New York Philharmonic this week, discusses the famous opening of the Fifth Symphony.Herbert Blomstedt just keeps on going. The Illinois-born, Swedish conductor is 94, and he maintains a schedule that musicians half his age might blanch at.At the start of February, Blomstedt was in San Francisco, where he was the music director from 1985 to 1995. A week later, Cleveland. Then Boston, conducting Mozart and a new edition of Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony that is dedicated to Blomstedt himself. Next week, he repeats that program in Chicago.This week, Blomstedt leads the New York Philharmonic in two symphonies that testify to the strength of the human will: Nielsen’s Fourth and Beethoven’s Fifth.Blomstedt’s service to Scandinavian music has long been lauded, and his recordings of works by Berwald, Nielsen, Sibelius and Stenhammar still repay repeated listening. If his Beethoven has been a little less prominent, that is only because its virtues are not of the flashy or radical kind.Although slightly different in tempos and textures as a result of Blomstedt’s adoption of the new editions of Beethoven’s scores that came out in the 1990s, both symphony cycles he has recorded — with the Staatskapelle Dresden from 1975 to 1980 and the Gewandhaus Orchestra of Leipzig, Germany, from 2014 to 2017 — remain beacons of good taste, with a distinctive spiritual power shining through the music. In both sets, that’s particularly true of the Fifth, which may be less brutally violent than under other conductors but has a merciful empathy to its relative restraint.Asked to choose a page from the Fifth’s score, Blomstedt went for the first, which announces the four-note motif that dominates the symphony’s passage from darkness to light. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.The opening page of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, whose first four notes make up one of the most famous motifs in all of music.Bärenreiter-Verlag, KasselThis is probably the most famous opening in all of music. But is it deceptively difficult to conduct?It’s very difficult. We are all haunted by this saying of Anton Schindler’s, that fate is knocking on the door. Of course, we cannot knock on the door so fast, so it becomes [singing slowly] “baaam-baaam-baaam baaaaaam.” That’s obviously not what Beethoven wanted. On the top of the page it says “Allegro con brio.” If the first bar is like that, it’s not con brio at all; it’s allegro comodo or allegro pesante or something like that.It’s also strange that there are no staccato dots there. Some of my colleagues are very conscientious; they play it [singing smoothly] “duhduhduh duhhh” because there are no dots. So that’s also another subject that can get heated.The new Bärenreiter score now has a metronome mark, in parentheses, because he wrote the marking some years later. The marking is quite shocking for those who were used to listening to Wilhelm Furtwängler or his followers, who are about twice as slow.Then, the second fermata is longer than the first one, tied over to an extra bar. The question is, why is that? So, there are many things to discuss.What are you aiming for yourself, then?The first point about the tempo is that in earlier editions of the symphonies, there were no metronome marks, so that authorized slow tempos. Of course, there were books; you could go to the musicological literature in the library and find out. Now, it is right at the top of the page, even if it is in parentheses. It’s part of the composition. And that makes a difference.When I was young — and it’s almost a hundred years ago now — the attitude toward the scores of Classical composers was much more casual than it is today. It cannot go so far that we are put in a straitjacket; that does not help the music very much. We know that Beethoven was himself very differentiated in tempos. He might start in one tempo, and after a few bars there was another tempo. Schindler reports on this; in that case, he’s quite a reliable source.Before I started conducting, I was a musicologist, so I’m trained to think like this. I’m sure Beethoven wanted the tempo as it stands. I heard so many crazy theories about what he meant with this. Some say that his metronome was going too slow, but I don’t believe that, because you can check the metronome by looking at your watch. Since the new editions have come, I’m convinced that he meant the metronome markings as they stand.Of course, I’m not alone in that. With a couple of exceptions, I think the markings are ideal. You just have to change yourself and not do what you find from tradition. You had heard Furtwängler or Bruno Walter do it, so that must be right. No, it is not right. The right thing is what he wrote.What we think Beethoven actually wanted has changed dramatically over the course of your career, with new research and shifting tastes. How do you reconcile that?That’s normal. I don’t have to apologize for that. My first ideals were what I heard Furtwängler do. I heard him many times, in rehearsal and in concerts. It shaped my musical world; it was magic. But, little by little, I discovered that there are other ways to interpret Beethoven’s music that are at least equally motivated in what he wrote.It’s not easy for a conductor, or any musician who has the task of interpreting this music, to get onto Beethoven’s wavelength, because you have so many memories, so many ideas about the music from what you have heard. You have to free yourself of that if you are looking forward. It requires that you change your mind, but I think that is what we must do. Once you are accustomed to that, you discover new expressions in the music that perhaps were not so evident a hundred years ago.What about the fermata over the last of the four notes in the motif?From a musicological standpoint, the fermata shows that the tempo does not exist anymore. What really says how long a fermata is, in this case, is how long the bow is. When the bow is at the end, you have to stop, unless you want to do two bows, which some people do. I think that misses the point, because to hold the fermata with a single down bow requires great control of muscles. If you do two, you don’t have to have that tension in your arm; it’s too easy.Why do you think Beethoven remains such an obsession for so many of us?One could write a whole book about that, but one thing to me is characteristic. We know that Beethoven was a sufferer, but he never expresses his suffering in his music, like Mahler does. You can hear it in every bar of Mahler — I’m suffering, I’m suffering, I’m suffering — and it’s wonderful, the way he does it.Beethoven was another type of person. He doesn’t put his emotions on display, and that makes it more objective. It can represent the suffering of everyone, not only his, but mine, the suffering of the whole society. The suffering of today, in Ukraine for instance. It could symbolize anything. That helps it to outlive the personal situation of the composer, or the personal situation of the interpreter. It’s something that we go through, as humans. More

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    Renowned Conductor, Battling Brain Cancer, Steps Down From Orchestra

    Michael Tilson Thomas, who helped found the New World Symphony in 1987, said his condition was prompting him to step down as its artistic director.The conductor Michael Tilson Thomas announced on Wednesday that he would step down as artistic director of the New World Symphony, a prestigious training orchestra for young artists in Miami that he helped found, as he battles an aggressive form of brain cancer.Saying he was “taking stock of my life,” Thomas, 77, the former music director of the San Francisco Symphony, said he was reducing his administrative duties to focus on his health.“I now see that it is time for me to consider what level of work and responsibilities I can sustain in the future,” he said in a statement.In the statement, Thomas provided for the first time details about his condition, which he announced last summer, when he canceled a series of engagements. He said he had glioblastoma, one of the most lethal forms of brain cancer; had undergone surgery last year to remove a tumor; and had also received chemotherapy and radiation treatments.“Currently the cancer is in check,” he said. “But the future is uncertain as glioblastoma is a stealthy adversary. Its recurrence is, unfortunately, the rule rather than the exception.”The New World Symphony, where Thomas will remain artistic director laureate, praised the “genius of his vision and the strength of his leadership” in a statement, in which the chairman of its board, Will Osborne, said, “We are honored to have his continued presence and involvement.”Thomas said he planned to continue conducting in the United States and Europe. In the coming months he is scheduled to lead more than two dozen concerts, including with the National Symphony Orchestra, the Cleveland Orchestra and the London Symphony Orchestra. On May 6 and 7 he is scheduled to be in Miami to lead the New World Symphony in the Fifth Symphony of Mahler, one of his specialties.Since his surgery, Thomas has led 20 concerts, appearing with the San Francisco Symphony, the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the New York Philharmonic. Audiences have greeted him with hearty ovations, and he has seemed relatively energetic.“I will continue to compose, to write and to mull over your thoughts and mine,” Thomas said in his statement. “I’m planning more time to wonder, wander, cook and spend time with loved ones — two-legged and four-. Life is precious.” More