I am very sorry to learn that the conductor Yuri Temirkanov has died.
I had the good fortune to see Temirkanov many times in Philadelphia. Once, he led the orchestra and chorus in Prokofiev’s “Alexander Nevsky,” with the film. This was years – decades, in fact – before the current practice of conducting scores live to sound film had become so prevalent.
Prokofiev had been a family friend. Temirkanov’s father had invited the composer to work on his opera, “War and Peace,” at their home, far from the fighting around Moscow, during World War II. Yuri later claimed to remember Prokofiev only dimly, like his father, who was executed by a German firing squad. More vivid were his memories of Prokofiev when he encountered him as a teen, while Temirkanov was studying at what was then the Leningrad Conservatory.
Later, Temirkanov worked with Shostakovich. He ruffled the feathers of the Soviet authorities when he programmed Shostakovich’s “From Jewish Folk Poetry,” with its dangerous implications of Russian antisemitism.
With the fall of communism, Temirkanov revitalized the St. Petersburg Philharmonic. He had had a long association with the orchestra, dating back to 1968. He was principal conductor when it was still known as the Leningrad Symphony. Eight years later, he took over the music directorship of the Kirov Opera and Ballet. He returned to Saint Petersburg as the orchestra’s artistic director and chief conductor, following the death of Yevgeny Mravinsky, in 1988.
Concurrently, from 2000 to 2006, he served as music director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. Although he made some fine commercial recordings, including one of the “Nevsky” film score (in Saint Petersburg), none of them, to my knowledge, were made with the Baltimore Symphony.
He was also principal guest conductor of the Danish National Symphony Orchestra and conductor laureate of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra of London (with which he served as principal guest conductor from 1979 and principal conductor from 1992–1998).
In a charming display of modesty, he would always return to the stage at the end of a concert, drop suddenly and sit on the podium, and applaud the standing musicians, a gesture that showed he knew where the true credit lay. He also preferred to conduct without a baton.
Temirkanov relinquished his post in Saint Petersburg in January of last year. He continued to divide his time between the city and London, where he also kept a home.
I didn’t know him personally, but he seemed to be a real gentleman. Although reportedly shy in the U.S. on account of his poor English, he still knew how to connect with an audience.
Temirkanov would have turned 85 next month. R.I.P.
“Alexander Nevsky” in its concert version, as a cantata
Rachmaninoff’s “Symphonic Dances”
Elgar’s “Enigma Variations”
Interviewed by Bruce Duffie
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