Showing posts with label Zubin Mehta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zubin Mehta. Show all posts

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Zubin Mehta's Recorded Legacy in the City of the Angels

Founded as early as 1919, the Los Angeles Philharmonic has had a series of very distinguished music directors – Georg Lennart Schnéevoigt, Artur Rodzinski, Otto Klemperer, Alfred Wallenstein and Eduard van Beinum. Bruno Walter, a distinguished Los Angeles resident, had also conducted the orchestra regularly. 

 

Nevertheless, the orchestra never really established a profile as one of America’s major orchestras. At the time, the talk was always about the “Big 5” orchestras of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Cleveland and Chicago. 

 

Then Zubin Mehta arrived in Los Angeles.

 

Originally invited as a last-minute substitute for guest conductors Fritz Reiner and Igor Markevitch, Mehta established an immediate rapport with the orchestra and a connection with the audience. The circumstances surrounding his appointment as music director is well known and does not need another retelling. Suffice it to say that in 1962, Mehta was appointed music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, a marriage that would last until 1978. 

 

On top of Mehta’s many innovations in the city, the most long-lasting legacy of Mehta’s tenure in Los Angeles has to be the many outstanding recordings he made with the orchestra with Decca records. Now Decca has reissued all these fine recordings in a generous 38-CD box – Zubin Mehta/Los Angeles Philharmonic – Complete Decca Recordings.

 

Having heard all the recordings in this sumptuous box, the first thing one could say is the absolutely beautiful recorded sound, capturing every nuance of the orchestra’s playing. The Decca team of engineers decided early on that the Dorothy Chandler pavilion, while being a fine hall for live performances, was completely unfit as a recording venue. After much scouting, they decided that seemingly unremarkable Royce Hall, on the campus of the University of California, Los Angeles, would suit their purpose more than adequately. I cannot say this more emphatically – the orchestra sounds spectacular in these recordings. 

 

The first recordings of Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic appeared in 1967. It was the first time an American orchestra would be recording for a European recording company. This presented some problems for the orchestra management at the time, as the recording company would only pay the orchestral players according to European and not American (unionized) scale. The management had to look for financing for these recordings in order to make up the difference. 

 

Mehta made the wise decision not to push the orchestra to record until he felt it was ready, and that explains the lag time between his taken over the music directorship in 1962 and the first batch of recordings in 1967. By 1967, the Los Angeles Philharmonic had already become a very fine orchestra, as can be attested in these first recordings. By the time Mehta left, judging from recordings of the late 1970’s, the orchestra had become the world class orchestra it is today. 

 

Listening to these recordings, I was struck by the imaginative and musical conducting of both very familiar repertoire as well as more unknown works of the orchestral literature. There is also a palpable love and passion in the music making in every recording. What is more, I felt that every member of the orchestra was really putting his or her heart and soul into these performances. None of these recordings came off as “routine” studio sessions. 

 

There are some recordings that were and are welcomed additions to the catalogue. There are deeply committed performances of Liszt Symphonic Poems – Hunnenschlacht (S105), Orpheus (S98) and Mazeppa(S100), a convincing recording of Stravinsky’s 8 Instrumental Miniatures for 15 players, an absolutely gorgeous reading of Charles Ives Symphony No. 1, with some outstanding playing from the orchestra principals, a wonderful recording of the same composer’s relatively more popular Symphony No. 2 that stands up to the fine recordings by Bernstein and Tilson Thomas, exciting performances of William Kraft’s Concerto for Four Percussion Soloists and Orchestra and Contextures: Riots – Decade ’60, masterful and convincing readings of Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1, Op. 9 and the thorny Orchestral Variations, Op. 31, thrilling performances of Edgard Varèse’s ArcanaIntegrales and Ionisation, a performance of Carl Nielsen’s Symphony No. 4 (“The Inextinguishable”) that brings out the rugged beauty of the music, and a beautiful reading of John Williams Suites from the films, Star Wars and Close Encounter of the Third Kind that I find superior to the composer’s own recording. None of these works are, even today, hugely represented in the recording catalogue. 

 

Some of Mehta’s Los Angeles recordings have become acknowledged classics of the phonograph. I had not been a great fan of Saint-Saëns’ Organ Symphony, but Mehta’s recording of the work made a convert out of me. He minimizes the bombast of the music, and infused the work with not only a sense of grandeur, but a quiet dignity, bringing out the inner beauty of the music that performances sometimes lack. 

 

Listening to the orchestra’s 1967 recording of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, I was struck by how Mehta highlights the contrast between the dramatic sections like Gnomus with the more lighthearted ones like the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks. In a movement like Gnomus or Bydlo, there is a weightiness of sound that bring out all the drama of the music. Mehta’s pacing and sense of timing in The Great Gate of Kiev is also impeccable; he holds the orchestra back from the explosion of sound until the very end of the work. 

 

Mehta’s recording of Gustav Holst’s The Planets suite, an iconic recording not only for music lovers but audiophiles as well, was certainly exciting and beautifully played. But what caught my ears was the lack of bombast (excitement, certainly) and a great beauty of sound throughout the performance. Again, in the final Neptune movement, Mehta draws us into the mystical and magical sound world created Holst created. The same observations apply to his recording of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, Op. 35, and kudos to the London engineers for capturing the sound of the orchestra so vividly and beautifully. 

 

There are only two concerto recordings – a magisterial performance of Beethoven’s Emperor concerto with Alicia de Larrocha from 1979, apparently Mehta’s final recording with the orchestra, and an absolutely delightful disc titled Concertos in Contrast, featuring four principal players from the orchestra. Other than Haydn’s very familiar Trumpet Concerto in E-flat major, Hob. VIIe/1, the other works certain warrant outstanding performances such as these – Vivaldi’s Flute Concerto in A minor, RV445, Weber’s Concertino for Clarinet and Orchestra in E-flat, Op. 26, Wieniawski’s Polonaise No. 1 in D major, Op. 4 and his Scherzo-Tarantelle, Op. 16. Throughout his tenure in Los Angeles, Mehta had been responsible for hiring most of the musicians as the older players retired, probably the most long-lasting aspect of his legacy. These 1974 performances by the players from the orchestra certainly gives us a hint of the extremely high level of playing by the orchestra. 

 

A 1973 disc – Virtuoso Overtures – gives us, among other things, an absolutely gorgeous and darkly brooding performance of Weber’s Der Freischütz Overture, with perfect intonation and ensemble by the horns at the beginning, as well as an echt Viennese reading of Strauss’ Die Fledermaus Overture. Even the recording, Hits at the Hollywood Bowl, no doubt a project they did for the recording company, receives committed and beautiful performances. 

 

In one instance, we hear two recordings, from different time periods, of the same work – Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4 in F minor (Op. 36). The earlier recording was one of the orchestra’s first discs for Decca, done in 1967. The second was part of a complete cycle of the composer’s symphonies – a great addition to the catalogue of Tchaikovsky recordings, unfortunately neglected by critics - taped in 1977. As much as the 1967 performance was a fine one, we hear in the 1977 recording what an absolutely great ensemble the Los Angeles Philharmonic had become.

 

The magnificent recordings of Bruckner’s 4th and 8th symphonies, Mahler’s 3rd and 5th symphonies, Strauss’ Sinfonia domestica (Op. 53), Eine Alpensinfonie (Op. 64), and the tone poems, show Mehta’s affinity for painting large canvases, an absolute grasp of the overriding structure of the works from first note to last. In a record of Mahler Lieder with the incredible Marilyn Horne, I was almost more captivated and fascinated by Mehta’s design of the orchestral writing than even Horne’s unbelievably rich voice. In these recordings especially, we can hear the successful results of Mehta’s efforts to elicit a central European sound from the orchestra. Even in the biggest climaxes and the most dramatic passages, there was never any coarseness in the sound.

 

Since Mehta’s departure from Southern California, the orchestra has had some highly distinguished music directors, from the dignified Giulini to one of today’s hottest conductor, Gustavo Dudamel, every one of them putting his individual stamp on the orchestra’s sound. The ensemble had moved from its fine home at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion to today’s architecturally stunning Walt Disney Concert Hall, where I had the good fortune to attend a concert by Mehta with the orchestra last year. Hearing the orchestra today, I feel that Mehta must be given major credit for creating the world class orchestra we have today. 

 

Zubin Mehta/Los Angeles Philharmonic – Complete Decca Recordings is a testament of the work of one of today’s most honest and dedicated musicians, working with musicians that were sympathetic to his music making, and well served by knowledgeable and musical recording engineers. It has been a richly rewarding musical experience listening to these fine performances once again.

 

 

 

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Revisiting a special Brahms First PIano Concerto

Shortly before the end of his long performing career, Arthur Rubinstein made a final recording of Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, Op. 15, with Zubin Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.  Mr. Rubinstein had been playing the concerto since he was around twelve years old. According to My Young Years, the first volume of the pianist’s memoirs, his teacher laughed when he expressed the wish to learn this work, but then young Rubinstein brought it to the subsequent lesson and played it to his teacher’s amazed satisfaction. 

 

The recording also represents Mr. Rubinstein’s only appearance on London-Decca. Special arrangements had to be made at the time to temporarily release the pianist from his contractual obligations to RCA Victor. 

 

My first live performance of this concerto was with Claudio Arrau, and it has remained one of my favourite symphonic works. I somehow felt the need to hear that recording again this morning, First off, if you are looking for a note-perfect, silken smooth performance of this concerto, this is not for you. Mr. Rubinstein was close to 90 when he played this performance, and hitting all the correct notes was certainly not his primary goal.

 

I found this performance incredibly moving, and felt that it represents a wonderful bookend to Mr. Rubinstein’s artistic and musical life. For him, to play this concerto with Mehta, an old friend, and this “orchestra of exiles” from the nation of Israel, whom he loved, made for very special music making. 

 

Having played chamber music all his life, Mr. Rubinstein does not make the superhuman demands of this enormous work a showcase for himself, but takes an almost chamber music like approach to make the piano’s musical line an organic component of the giant orchestral fabric. As well, there is a real give and take, a real feeling of dialogue between him and Mehta. Mr. Rubinstein had said that it was always a feast to play with Mehta, as it was with George Szell before that. 

 

In the slow movement, Mr. Rubinstein plays the music in a reflective manner, and imbues the music with an inner glow, while in the outer movements, the sound evokes a feeling of ruggedness. In addition, the relatively modern recording technology (or perhaps it was the London engineers) captures the pianist’s piano sonorities, much more so than in his earlier RCA recordings. His earlier recording with Fritz Reiner, long considered a classic, seems more “light-weight” compared with this Israel recording, which really has a sense of weight in the sound.  

 

Mr. Rubinstein’s performance with Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic evoke in my mind the image of magnificent granite. To be sure, the musicians in this recording bring out the epic quality of Brahms’ great concerto.

 

With the state our world is in – challenges and stress during this pandemic, political division in the United States, and the hopelessness of the fight for freedom and democracy in Hong Kong - hearing this deeply moving performance was for me a cathartic experience, as well as one that gave me hope during this bleak time.

 

I am still young enough to remember that every Rubinstein recording was a special occasion, something to celebrate. The music world has changed much since those innocent days. At least we have this unforgettable artistic memento by the great Arthur Rubinstein, someone who to this day represents for me what it really is to be a musician.

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Zubin Mehta and Mahler's "Resurrrection"

Conductor Zubin Mehta returned to “his” orchestra in Los Angeles for a series of concerts to begin the New Year. In the 1960’s and 1970’s, the names “Zubin Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic” were synonymous, and it was this musical marriage that put the orchestra on the musical map, dispelling the idea of the “big five” American orchestras worthy of mention. Since then, the orchestra had had a number of fine music directors, and Mehta had also been at the helm of many orchestras and opera companies. Even so, there is something special when the conductor returns to make music with the orchestra of the city that he still considers one of his homes.

I was fortunate to have been in Los Angeles this past weekend, and was therefore in the orchestra’s beautiful home of the Walt Disney Concert Hall for Mehta’s stunning reading of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 in C minor, more commonly known as “Resurrection”. The performing forces for this massive work also included soprano Chen Reiss, mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura, as well as the Los Angeles Master Chorale (under the expert direction of Grant Gershon).

Mehta has always been a champion of this work, and his early recording of it with the Vienna Philharmonic is still in the catalogue, a remarkable achievement given the number of recordings available. Since then, his interpretation has matured, and Friday night’s performance positively glowed with a beautiful burnished quality in the sound of the orchestra. Indeed the hallmark of any performance by Zubin Mehta is the beauty of the sound he elicits from whichever orchestra he is leading.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the energy with which Mehta and the orchestra tore into the opening of the first movement. Mehta effectively observed Mahler’s accelerando marking for the C minor scale at m. 4, giving the music a real sense of direction and drive. The Los Angeles cellists and double bassists played with the requisite thickness and pesante quality the music calls for. The violins played the rising motif at rehearsal 3 with great warmth and tenderness, giving real contrast and a sudden shift of mood from the storminess of the opening. Mehta conjured up a truly awesome apocalyptic vision at the orchestra outburst at rehearsal 15 (schnell), and the brief passage of triplet figures at rehearsal 20 (Molto pesante) was played with an incredible sense of urgency. The descending scale that ends the movement (rehearsal 27), with its lengthened silence (Mahler indicated a ritenuto marking over the rests – before the two final C’s), left the audience truly breathless. 

In this opening movement, Mehta highlighted for me, perhaps for the first time, the startling "weirdness" inherent in Mahler's orchestral writing.

The Ländler that makes up the second movement betrayed Mehta’s Viennese upbringing, and the music overflowed with warmth and abundant emotion. The musicians certainly rose to Mahler’s indication of Sehr germächlich. Conductor and musicians played the music with an overwhelming sense of flow, making the music sound like it was drawn from a single breath from beginning to end. Even the dramatic outburst at rehearsal 6 (Energisch bewegt) could not dispel the overall mood. The quiet transition back to the Ländler at rehearsal 12 was simply magical, and the arrival of the beautiful legato theme by the violins had a real feeling of inevitability to it. Mehta’s timing of the ending of the movement was done to perfection. 

Mahler took us out of our brief reverie with two arresting notes by the timpani, launching us into the Scherzo. Mehta expertly guided the musicians through the many shifting moods of this movement, inviting rather than commanding the orchestra as they traverse the musical landscape. This movement, more than others, is a real showcase for the solo wind and brass players, and the virtuosi of the Los Angeles Philharmonic rose to Mahler’s challenge with aplomb and with flair.

Mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura sang the otherworldly “Urlicht” with great depth of feeling, Mehta and the orchestra supported her with a beautiful cushion of sound. The feeling and mood conjured by Fujimura were matched by the orchestra’s horns and trumpets. Here, Mehta conjured up not just beauty but an incredible depth in the sound, giving the music a truly innigkeit quality.

I remember one critic writing of Mehta’s recording of Mahler’s 3rd symphony, that he really had a special way with Mahler finales. This was evident in how conductor and orchestra played this vast movement with a sense of inevitability and of organic unity. The incredible opening of the movement was not merely dramatic, but awe-inspiring, as if the heavens were really opening. In the grosse Appell section, the music took on a very spacious quality, and Mehta and the orchestra painted a bleak sonic landscape. The brief flute solo was hauntingly played.

Is there any symphonic work that rouses our emotions like the finale of this work? Mehta gauged the many levels of sound carefully, and expertly built the music to its emotional peak. Unlike so many “star” conductors, he did not try to pack a punch and knock us out with maximum volume, but always kept the beauty of both the instrumental and vocal sounds. No matter how shattering the climaxes were – and there were many – there was always the feeling of something in reserve.  The result was a performance that did not seek to “impress”, but rather served as an invitation for everyone to share in communion with both the beauty of the music and the emotion it conveys. 

Friday’s night performance was one where all the elements came together. Perhaps because of Mehta’s preeminence, particular in Los Angeles, it felt that every single member of the orchestra and chorus wanted to give their all. I felt extremely privileged to have experienced this stupendous musical experience. Mr. Mehta seemed to have been much more physically robust than I have seen him in a long time. All we could wish for is many more years of good health, so that he could give us many more memorable performances like the one we witnessed. 

Patrick May


Friday, August 26, 2016

Teatro Colon

A journey to South America affords even the most seasoned traveler new and different experiences. For the last few weeks, I have had the pleasure of traveling through many cities in that incredible continent. And of all the memorable experiences I had these past weeks, none came close to the two performances I had attended at Buenos Aires’ famed Teatro Colón.

On Saturday, August 20th, the Teatro Colón presented a production of Puccini’s Tosca, based on a concept by Roberto Oswald, the late opera director and set designer, and conducted by Carlos Vieu. The great buzz of the production was that Argentinian tenor Marcelo Álvarez, was returning to sing the title role of Cavaradossi for a hometown crowd. Eva-Maria Westbroek sang the role of Floria Tosca, and Carlos Álvarez - no relation to the tenor - played a thoroughly and suitably evil Barón Scarpia.

The production itself was a traditional one. This was no “concept” production to show off the cleverness of the director. The set designer strived to recreate the locations of the three acts. At the end of the first act, when the Te Deum was being sung (with real incense!), the chorus of the Teatro Colón was truly magnificent. This was opera with a capital “O”.

I was therefore able to focus my attention entirely on the music, and I was not disappointed.

There is perhaps nothing more difficult than performing for those who know you best. Marcelo Álvarez, I thought, was most impressive from first note to last, and the audience roared its approval both during and after the performance. I felt that Eva-Maria Westbroek gave a very good portrayal of Tosca. I did think that her voice did not really blossom until the third act, where she gave an intensely theatrical as well as musical performance. I had a little trouble with her pacing in the famous Vissi d’arte, as I did not think that she builds the aria towards a real climax. Even though the vocal demands for the role of Scarpia are considerable, I believe the real challenge to the part is more theatrical than musical. Carlos Álvarez outdid himself as Scarpia, both musically and in his portrayal of this thoroughly evil character. His singing of the famous line from Act One, “Tosca, you make me forget God,” in the middle of the Te Deum, was most memorable.

Conductor Carlos Vieu was sensitive and supportive in his guidance of the orchestra. I thought that principal clarinetist Carlos Céspedes’ playing of the introduction to E lucevan le stelle was particularly memorable in both beauty of sound as well as in pacing. The “pit” orchestra was excellent, and I would rank it just slightly below the orchestras of Vienna and Covent Garden.

I was thankful to have experienced the fabled acoustics of the Teatro Colón, which was truly incredible. Every detail in both the singing and the orchestral playing was audible. Even though I had seats quite far up on the side, the sound was immediate and vibrant. This was an experience I would not soon forget.

I returned to the theatre the subsequent evening for a performance by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, whose visit to South America, as I discovered with joy months ago, coincided with our stay in Buenos Aires.

Going to the same theatre two nights in a row, I was able to compare the acoustics of the venue for an operatic as well as a symphonic concert. Although the sound was just as vivid on both evenings, the acoustics of the Teatro Colón were even more immediate when the orchestra is on stage.

The concert began with Antonin Dvórak’s Carnaval Overture, Op. 92. I had heard Mehta conduct this very piece with the New York Philharmonic on August 28, 1980, at the Lucerne Festival. If memory serves, the New York orchestra had a brighter sound, and the Israel Philharmonic had a mellower, more Central European sound. At the beginning of the performance, I felt that the musicians were still getting used to the acoustics of the Teatro Colón, but the music gained much more vibrancy and lightness as the performance went along.

Mehta and the orchestra continued with Maurice Ravel’s Suite No. 2 from Daphnis et Chloé. Although being brought up musically in Vienna, Mehta has always been a convincing and idiomatic interpreter of the French repertoire, something he credited his father for. It was a great reading of the Ravel’s work, both in terms of how Mehta enabled the music to unfold naturally as well as in the beauty of the Israel Philharmonic’s sound. In the opening evocation of sunrise, I was bowed over by the beauty of orchestra’s strings. A work such as Daphnis et Chloé also allows the wind soloists to shine, which they did.

After the interval, the orchestra played Richard Strauss’ huge tone poem, Ein Heldenleben. Mehta is perhaps one of the great conductors of Richard Strauss today, and he had performed and recorded this work on numerous occasions. This intimate knowledge of the score was obvious from the first note to last, since he guided the musicians (and the audience) through this complex score with the sure hand of a master storyteller. As much as the many musical climaxes were overwhelming, it was the many intimate moments in the long work that was, for me, memorable, like the oboe solo in Des Helden Gefährtin, which was especially movingly played. The concertmaster’s playing of the work’s many solos was stunning. In Des Helden Weltflucht und Vollendung), Mehta managed to hold our interest in the extended ending, until the sublime ending of the work, which the orchestra played with a special sonic glow. Mehta’s total absorption of the score was borne out by the fact that there seemed to have been a connection between first note to last. There was a barely perceptible moment of silence before the tumultuous applause began, growing into the rhythmic applause that brought Mehta back for two encores.

Appropriately, Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic gave the audience Dvórak’s Slavonic Dance, Op. 46, No. 8, another work that the conductor has conducted often. In this short work, I sensed the chemistry between conductor and orchestra, since Mehta seemed to be hardly “conducting” at all, but allowed the orchestra to let itself go with only an occasional prompting. With the urging of the audience, Mehta ended the concert with an overture, one to Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro, which the orchestra played with all the lightness and zest that the music calls for.

Comparing the two evenings’ performances, one thing was apparent – the work of a very good conductor and that of a great one. And Mehta is one of the great ones. Although only a spry 80-year old, the conductor is now very different from the fiery and energetic musician of his youth, I felt that in Ein Heldenleben, it was almost as if he was telling his story of his own storied life.

Looking at the calendar of the theatre, it appears that the venue is extremely well used, both by local companies as well as by major orchestras and musicians. It is nice to know that Buenos Aires remains one of the world’s great musical capitals. What a privilege it had been to experience one of the great theatres of the world, and to hear a great conductor and orchestra at work.


Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Orchestra of Exiles


There are times when, living in Vancouver, I feel that we, in spite of the natural beauty, are culturally the backwater of North America. The film Orchestra of Exiles, the story of the formation of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, has been making the rounds of theatres in the United States, but never came to Vancouver. I was therefore happy that this wonderful film had just been released on DVD. Watching the film, I was moved by this incredible story of compassion, bravery, vision, and perseverance, the effort of one man, who founded this now world class orchestra.

Bronislaw Huberman was a master violinist, beloved by audiences in major musical centres in Europe and the United States. In 1929, he visited and concertized for the first time in Palestine, and was moved by the frontier spirit of the people living there at the time. When Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany in the 1930’s, and began firing Jewish musicians from major orchestras, Huberman took a public stand and refused an offer – artistically rewarding and financially lucrative, to be sure - from conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler to appear with the Berlin Philharmonic, the premiere German orchestra then as it is now. Seeing the days that Jewish people could safely live in German were numbered, Huberman had a dream of forming a world class symphony orchestra in Palestine, to give a musical and physical home to the many accomplished musicians displaced by the Nazi regime

Putting his career on hold, and going against incredible political and financial odds, Huberman travelled throughout Europe and auditioned players for “his” orchestra. He foresaw that Hitler’s ambitions would not be restricted to Germany, and therefore did not limit his activities just within Germany. Because of all the travelling and pressure, there were times when he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, not to mention financial ruin. For musicians who were not good enough to become a part of his orchestra, he knew that they would have to remain in Europe, where their lives would be very much in peril. He even tried to extend assistance not only to the musicians who had been chosen, but to their immediate and, sometimes, extended families, eventually saving about 1000 Jews from certain death.

Finally, in 1936, the Palestine Symphony Orchestra was formed, with its first series of concerts conducted by Arturo Toscanini, probably the most famous conductor of the time, and a firm anti-fascist who, like Huberman, had refused to perform in Germany and Austria. Huberman himself refused to appear as soloist with the orchestra, insisting that the stage being devoted entirely to showcasing his orchestra. Because of his efforts, the Israel Philharmonic - the name of the orchestra since the foundation of the State of Israel in 1948 - is now one of the world’s great orchestras.

Part documentary and part dramatisation, Orchestra of Exiles tells the story of the birth of this great orchestra. The orchestra has been referred to as an “orchestra of concertmasters”, since many orchestra members were concertmasters and section leaders in orchestras in Germany, Austria, and throughout Europe. Director Josh Aronson effectively combined re-enactments of Huberman’s life, episodes from Huberman’s search for musicians, and the orchestra’s initial rehearsals with Toscanini, with actual archival film footages from the orchestra’s history. There are interviews with past and present members of the orchestra, family members who were helped by Huberman, violinists Joshua Bell (who now owns and plays Huberman’s violin), Ivry Gitlis, Itzhak Perlman, and Pinchas Zukerman, and Zubin Mehta, the Israel Philharmonic current Music Director.

I was completely engrossed, captivated, and moved by this inspiring story, of how one man faced incredible odds, sacrificed his own comfort and well-being, to create something lasting, something that now benefits the entire world. Hurberman insisted that musicians of the Palestine Symphony Orchestra also taught, with the result now that many musicians of the Israel Philharmonic are students - in many cases children and grandchildren - of the original musicians. And he saved an important part of the European musical tradition.

Orchestra of Exiles is not - in the words of a review I read - “just another Holocaust story”. It is not just another story about a famous musician. It is a story of the human spirit, of how one man can take a public stand against overwhelming odds, and against great evil. It is a story that should be known not just by violinists or musicians, but by anyone with an interest in history – not just history of the Jewish people, but of all humanity.



Monday, December 17, 2012

50th Anniversary in Los Angeles

On January 15th, 1961, a young conductor named Zubin Mehta arrived in Los Angeles to rehearse the Los Angeles Philharmonic in preparation for a series of concerts. Mr. Mehta was almost completely unknown to orchestra or audience in Los Angeles. He had just been appointed music director designate for the Montreal Symphony, but who in Los Angeles had ever heard of the Montreal Symphony in 1961? Mehta’s appearance with the orchestra was the result of a cancellation by Fritz Reiner, who was supposed to have conducted.

At both rehearsals and concerts, the chemistry between conductor and orchestra was apparent from the start. The day after an especially successful concert, the orchestra administration offered Mr. Mehta the post of “associate conductor”. There have been many versions of the events that transpired next, but what eventually happened was that Georg Solti, the orchestra’s music director designate, was offended that he was not consulted about Mr. Mehta’s appointment, and resigned before he even began his tenure with the orchestra. Suddenly left without a music director, and seeing Mehta’s incredible success with both orchestra and audience, they offered the job to him instead. For the next 16 seasons, Mr. Mehta elevated the Los Angeles Philharmonic to a world class orchestra, with successful concerts throughout the musical world and recordings that still remained cherished items among music lovers.

This past weekend, the Los Angeles Philharmonic celebrated the 50th anniversary of the beginning of Mr. Mehta’s tenure as music director of the orchestra. The programme was a re-creation of the concert he conducted as music director – the Busoni version of Mozart’s Overture to Don Giovanni, which incorporates the use of trombones as well as music from the end of the opera, Hindemith’s Mathis der Mahler Symphony, and Dvorak’s Symphony No. 7.  It is a serious programme, certainly far from the “showy” pieces Mr. Mehta has been accused of favouring.

Mr. Mehta’s 16-year tenure with the orchestra was not all smooth sailing. Despite his chemistry with the orchestra and popularity with audience, he would, for years, receive scathing reviews from the Los Angeles Times and its chief critic, Martin Bernheimer, who seemed to have devoted much of his career to (unsuccessfully) destroying Mr. Mehta’s reputation. Indeed, in his younger days, Zubin Mehta did not seem to have much luck with the critics, the main complaints being the conductor’s apparent superficiality, a lack of discipline and “depth” in his interpretations. I remember one reviewer, praising the conductor’s recording of Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodies, adding that, “Alas, he is good for nothing else.” Such a statement is not only an insult to Mr. Mehta’s talents, but also disparaging towards the music of Liszt.

I have had the good fortune to hear Mr. Mehta in person on several occasions. In those occasions, and in listening to the conductor’s many recordings, I find the complaints from the gentlemen of the press entirely unjustified.

Is Zubin Mehta a great conductor? Certainly.  Is he the “greatest”? I do not know, because I do not know what the word means. From listening to his music making, I can only say that Mr. Mehta is a hugely talented and extremely serious musician. Yes, he did conduct the by now famous “Three Tenors” concert, but then so did James Levine, whose reputation did not seem to have suffered from such an association.

In recent years, critics seem to have been kinder, at least fairer, to Mr. Mehta. Perhaps he will now receive what he has always deserved, to be judged by the merits of each performance, and not by the preconceived and malicious stereotypes.

Rather than relying on the words of the “distinguished” critics of the Times, maybe we could end by recalling the words of Arthur Rubinstein, who said, “Some of my most joyous and inspired performances have been in collaboration with Zubin Mehta.”

Endorsement indeed, coming from a pianist who had probably played with most of the greatest conductors of the 20th century.