Even if we were to restrict ourselves to his achievements as a conductor, he was one of the very top interpreters of American music, Haydn, Schumann, Mahler, Nielsen, Shostakovich – on the evidence of his recordings, too many others to catalogue.
Here’s just an example of his artistry: in London, from 1966, Lenny captured in his prime, conducting Stravinsky’s primal “Le Sacre du printemps” (“The Rite of Spring”) – without a score.
At the end of the performance, the musicians refuse to rise, but only continue to applaud him from their seats.
An appropriately orgiastic salute to Leonard Bernstein on his birthday!
PHOTO: Bernstein’s magic elevator only goes in one direction: up!
Monday may be Tax Day, but much more pleasantly, it also happens to mark the centenary of Sir Neville Marriner, who was born on April 15, 1924.
This morning on “Sweetness and Light,” we’ll honor the prolific English conductor, who died peacefully in his sleep on October 2, 2016, three days after giving his last concert in Padua, Italy. The next day, he was scheduled to begin a tour of Austria, Germany, and Belgium, with the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, the orchestra he founded in 1958. At the time of his death, he was 92 years old.
Hardly gone, then, and certainly he left so many recordings, that he’ll continue to be remembered, with gratitude, for quite some time.
Under Marriner’s direction, the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields became the most-recorded chamber orchestra in the world, the partnership yielding over 500 recordings.
Too many, obviously, to survey in an hour, so I’ll focus on four, which have meant a great deal to me, personally.
Marriner could always be counted on to deliver solid, interpretively, middle-of-the-road performances. Occasionally, he would even surprise by turning out a world-beater. He was the perfect choice to supervise the soundtrack for Milos Forman’s “Amadeus.” He was also a sensitive collaborator, in concerto and opera.
It seems there wasn’t much Marriner couldn’t accomplish in the studio, in the days when the major labels still dominated the classical music recording industry and, by extension, radio air time. Rare was the morning or afternoon drive that didn’t feature at least one recording by “Sir Neville and His Marriners,” as one host in the Philadelphia area memorably dubbed them.
There will be nothing taxing about the music this week, as we celebrate Sir Neville Marriner on “Sweetness and Light.” Start your day with a smile, this Saturday morning at 11:00 EDT/8:00 EDT, exclusively on KWAX, the radio station of the University of Oregon!
It’s been observed (and borne out) that composers are not always the best interpreters of their own music. But when composer Péter Eötvös turned his hand to conducting Beethoven, the result was one of the most thrilling 5th Symphonies I have ever heard.
Eötvös, born in Transylvania, was aided and encouraged by Zoltán Kodály at the Franz Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest, and Béla Bartók was in his blood.
He continued his studies in Cologne with Bernd Alois Zimmerman. He also apprenticed with Karlheinz Stockhausen, working as Stockhausen’s engineer and copyist, and kept up his modernist credentials as a founding member of the live electronics-heavy Oeldorf Group and director and conductor of the Pierre Boulez-founded Ensemble InterContemporain.
In addition, he was drawn to the music of Renaissance madman and murderer Carlo Gesualdo and American jazz.
Eötvös composed in many genres, including experimental music for film and at least 13 operas.
To my ears, he was at least as good a conductor as he was a composer. Eötvös died yesterday at the age of 80. R.I.P.
Conducting Liszt’s “Dante Symphony”
His own “The Gliding of the Eagle in the Skies”
“Dialog mit Mozart”
Beethoven (each of the four movements posted separately)
In his prime, Seiji Ozawa was like a breath of counterculture fresh air, assuming the podium in mop top, turtleneck, and love beads. Later, perhaps, he overextended himself, raising a family in Japan while putting the Boston Symphony Orchestra through its paces.
But routine performances cannot take away from a lifetime of achievements.
Ozawa was the first and most prominent Japanese conductor to wow the West with his mastery of the European classics.
As a young man, his talent and tenacity carried him to France (he arrived on a cargo ship, with a scooter and a guitar), where he attracted the attention of then-BSO music director Charles Munch. Munch invited him to study at the Berkshire Music Center at Tanglewood, the orchestra’s summer home. Ozawa then studied with Herbert von Karajan in Berlin and was taken under the wing of Leonard Bernstein, who appointed him assistant conductor of the New York Philharmonic in 1961.
Ozawa’s breakout post was with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, where he was installed, on Bernstein’s recommendation, in 1965. He served as music director of the San Francisco Symphony from 1970 to 1976.
For decades – 29 years, in fact, beginning in 1973 – he was Boston’s music director and enjoyed many successes, both on the orchestra’s home turf and elsewhere. However, the consensus among players, critics, and audiences is that he stayed too long.
During his time in Boston, he remained active on the other side of the globe. He became honorary music director of the Japan Philharmonic (now the New Japan Philharmonic). He also helped found the Saito Kinen Orchestra, named for cellist and conductor Hideo Saito, a principal mentor during Ozawa’s youth.
Other posts included an early appointment as artistic director of the Ravinia Festival, summer home of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, co-artistic director (with Gunther Schuller) of the Berkshire Music Center, and much later, artistic director of JapanNYC.
Ozawa left Boston for the Vienna State Opera, where he served until 2010. Alas, the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Health issues predominated for the rest of his life. He was diagnosed with esophageal cancer in 2010. More recently, he was hospitalized with heart valve disease. His convalescence was complicated by sciatica. It was painful to see such an energetic presence diminished in his later years.
In some respects, he remains underrated. His legacy was marred, no doubt, by his extended tenure in Boston, which lent him high visibility, even as he ruffled feathers and outstayed his welcome. Back in Japan, he received scorn from older players for being too Westernized.
But he excelled especially in contemporary music (including that of his compatriot Toru Takemitsu), the Russian classics, and in opulent orchestral showpieces. He could be extraordinarily adept at managing the large forces required of monumental works such as Benjamin Britten’s “War Requiem,” Arthur Honegger’s “Jeanne d’Arc au bûcher,” and Arnold Schoenberg’s “Gurrelieder.” He led the world premiere of Olivier Messiaen’s “Saint François d’Assise” at the Paris Opera and concert performances of Richard Strauss’ “Elektra” in Boston.
Ozawa died at his home in Tokyo on Tuesday. The cause of death was reported as heart failure. He was 88 years old. R.I.P.
Ozawa conducts gorgeous Gabriel Fauré
Mendelssohn’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” incidental music, with Judi Dench
Introduced by Bernstein on one of his “Young People’s Concerts”
In 1963, as a contestant on “What’s My Line?” – on the same episode with Woody Allen and Peter, Paul and Mary
Conducting the Muppets (with Placido Flamingo)
At Bernstein’s 70th birthday
I was just listening to this yesterday, for John Williams’ birthday – “Tributes! For Seiji”
Takemitsu, with violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter
Ozawa as I’ll always remember him, with the love beads, in a live performance of Arnold Schoenberg’s late Romantic masterpiece, “Gurrelieder”
PHOTO: Ozawa rehearsing the BSO with Jessye Norman in Frankfurt in 1988
Classical music has had its share of Grinches, but few were as cactus-cuddly as Fritz Reiner. From a musician’s standpoint, Reiner was one of the most dreaded conductors, in an era when tyrants of the podium still very much roamed the earth. With a glower that could make Karloff quake (though he resembled more Bela Lugosi), Reiner was forged in Hungary at the twilight of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Hungary at the time had quite the reputation for churning out great conductors. George Szell, Eugene Ormandy, Antal Doráti, Ferenc Fricsay, Sir Georg Solti, and István Kertész all achieved considerable international success.
Among Reiner’s own teachers was Béla Bartók, with whom he studied piano. Reiner would later repay the favor with what many consider to be the benchmark recording of Bartók’s “Concerto for Orchestra.” He also worked closely with Richard Strauss in Dresden, and his recordings of Strauss’ works are equally revered. All in all, the Chicago Symphony under Fritz Reiner was a surefire choice to give the ol’ hi-fi a good workout in the early days of stereo.
In 1928, Reiner became a naturalized American citizen. He began to teach conducting at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, where among his pupils was Leonard Bernstein. His first American post was as principal conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony. He took over the Pittsburgh Symphony for a decade, beginning in 1938. Then he spent several years at the Met. But it was as music director of the Chicago Symphony that he attained legendary status.
For a master interpreter of some of the largest and most challenging works in the repertoire, his baton technique was notable for its precision and economy. Much of what he achieved, unfortunately, was through the brutality he exuded in rehearsals. Reiner emerged from an Old World steeped in aristocratic privilege. At the top of their profession, conductors then were regarded as gods-on-earth. When drive and ego were bolstered by absolute power, working conditions could become downright perilous. Before strong musicians’ unions, conductors exercised the authority to fire anyone on a whim. So when musicians played for Reiner, they played as if their lives depended on it – or at the very least their livelihoods.
Did it make for better musicmaking? You can’t argue with the excellence of Reiner’s Chicago Symphony.
