Badal - Recording The Classics

RECORDING THE CLASSICS
Recording the Classics
Maestros, Music,
and
Technology
JAMES BADAL
THE KENT STATE UNIVERSITY PRESS

Kent, Ohio, and London, England
© 1996 by The Kent State Uni versity Press, Kent , O hio 44242
All right s reserved
Library of Co ngress Ca ralog Card Number 95-35978
ISBN 0-87338-542-X
Man ufactured in the Un ited Scates of America
04 03 02 01 00 99 98 97 96 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Recordin g the classics : maesrros, music, and techn ology / James Badal
[inte rviewer].
p. ern.
Includes bibl iograph ical references.
ISBN 0-87338-542-X (cloth : a1k. paper) 00
1. C ond uctors-Int erviews. 2. Performance practice (Musicl-s-zorh cenruty. 3. Sound

record ings-Social aspects. 4. Sound reco rdin g industry.
ML402.R4 3 1996 95-35978
78I.49- dc20 eIP
MN
British Library Cataloging-i n-Publicat ion data are available.

TO my mother
Elizabeth B. Badal
CONTENTS
Preface ix
Author's Note Xl
Introduction
Lorin Maazel 15
Colin Davis 23
Kurt Masur 33
Antal Dorati 41
Erich Leinsdorf 49
Christoph von Dohnanyi 59
Simon Rattle 69
Charles Dutoir 79
Christopher Hogwood 9°
Vladimir Ashkenazy 1°7
Riccardo Chailly II7
Pierre Boulez 127
Andrew Davis 14°
Erich Kunzel 154

Vl11 CONTENTS
Leonard Slatkin
Neeme jarvi
Bibliography
PREFACE
THIS SERIES OF conversations originally grew out of a professional

journalism assignment. As a contributing editor to the arts magazine
Northern OhioLive, I interviewed Lorin Maazel in 1981 about his recording
activities with the Cleveland Orchestra; portions of that discussion
subsequently appeared in the November issue. Some of the questions
explored or touched on during that conversation struck me as particularly
significant, especially since there seemed to be little discussion in print of
the impact records and recording have had on musical culture. Over the
next nine years, I therefore arranged as many interviews as possible with
visiting conductors through the Cleveland Orchestra's marketing and public
relations department at Severance Hall. All of the interviews since that first
one with Maazel appeared in the record-review magazine Fanfare between
1984 and 1991.
lowe a debt of gratitude to John T. Hubbell, director of The Kent State

University Press, and to my editor, Julia J. Morton, for both their enthusi-
asm and their patient, constant support while this book was being put to-
gether.
Thanks also to John Shambach, publisher of Northern Ohio Live, and
Joel Flegler, publisher of Fanfare, for permission to reprint previously
published material.
I am indebted to several generations of the Severance Hall marketing
and public relations staff Jan c. Snow, Rick Lester, and Gary Hanson not
only squeezed interviews into conductors' tight rehearsal schedules but
convinced some major musicians that a discussion with an unknown, local
writer would not be a waste of time.
Severalpeople were instrumental in helping me compile the photographs
that appear in this book. I especially thank Carol S. Jacobs (archivist),
IX
X PREFACE
Sue Sackman, RosieWithem, and Debbie Clark at SeveranceHall in Cleve-

land. Thanks also to John Eustace at WEA, Dennis Tolly at Columbia
Artists Management, Inc., Odette Gelinas at the Orchestre Symphonique
de Montreal, Gary Reider and Elaine Martone at Telarc International
Corporation, Jennifer Perciballi at EMI, Shaw Concerts, Inc., and the New
York Philharmonic.
Peter Hastings photographed Cleveland Orchestra personnel and guests
for thirty years. In 1981, he published many of his wonderful pictures in
Musical Images. I am delighted that eight of the photographs that appear in
this book are his.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
FOR THE MOST part. I refer to record companies only in passing. I have
therefore made no attempt to disentangle the history of various business
alliances, takeovers, and changes in company names. .My use oflabel names
has been casual but consistent. I assume anyone interested enough to read
these interviews will know that English Decca is known as London in the
United States. that HMV stands for His Master's Voice, and that Columbia
later became CBS and eventually Sony.
INTRODUCTION
THERE IS A STORY, perhaps apocryphal, about a young journalist who

reported on the first public demonstrations oftelevision at the RCA pavilion
during the 1939 New York World's Fair. Though deeply impressed by the
new medium, he wrote an article in which he predicted that this invention,
miraculous though it was, would never replace radio in the public's affections
because no one would have time for it. After all, he reasoned, a listener
could turn on the radio and go about his or her business in the home, but
a potential viewer would have to sit in front ofthe television for the duration
of the program. Who would have time for this?
It is the sort of story the late media theorist Marshall McLuhan would
have eagerly seized upon, for it-together with TV's subsequent history-
clearly demonstrates one of his central theses: the most powerful effects a
medium has on society occur gradually over a long period and are never the
ones that are most obvious. For example, when we debate the great issues of
television, we focus on such matters as sex and violence in prime time and
advertisements aimed at children; rarely do we discuss the degree to which
television has molded the patterns of our lives. Studies have indicated,
however, that the average American TV set is on between six and seven
hours per day; on Superbowl Sunday, the entire country turns into a coast-
to-coast ghost town; in the pre-video cassette recorder world, we adjusted
mealtimes and social obligations around the TV; streets emptied when
M*A*S*H* bowed out and when Dallas revealed who shot J. R. Ewing;
studies even suggest that as a nation we sleep less now than in the years
before TV became such a prominent player in our lives. Somehow,
somewhere-in spite of that reporter's prediction-we have found the time
for television.
Though the medium may be quite different, the situation with recordings
is similar. When we ask what benefits have been derived from recordings,
we generally supply ourselves with a series of music appreciation answers.
2 INTRODUCTION
Recordings have increased the general public's knowledge and sophistication

in the area of classical music; they bring noteworthy performances of fine
music to those who might have little access to live concerts; they allow
listeners to become familiar with music rarely heard in the concert hall or
opera house; and they preserve the work of great artists from the past and
present.
But have recordings also affected how the public perceives music or even
the way musicians make it? Because of recordings, do listeners come to the
concert hall with a certain set of aural expectations? (In one ludicrously
extreme case, as relayed by an assistant head usher at Severance Hall, a
disgruntled concertgoer complained bitterly that, contrary to what a sales-
man had told him, the Cleveland Orchestra "highs" were different live than
from his speakersl) Does recorded music in any way create erroneous im-
pressions of either the music or the performer?
Some ofthese issues did surface in the early days of the medium. Among
the first great conductors to record was the legendary Arthur Nikisch. In
1913, companies from England and Germany teamed up to record
Beethoven's Fifth Symphony with Nikisch and the Berlin Philharmonic,
the first recording of a complete symphony ever made and one that both
EMI and Deutsche Grammophon have reissued over the years to celebrate
various anniversaries. Even allowing for the severe restrictions imposed by
the acoustic recording process, the performance just does not sound like
the work of the wild, flamboyant magician described by those, including
George Szell,'who saw him in the concert hall. Have distant, fading memo-
ries led to exaggerated reports, or did Nikisch simply conduct differently on
those few occasions he recorded?
In a similar manner, Richard Strauss's formidable reputation as a
conductor is ill served by at least part of his recorded legacy. Cynics would
maintain that his interest in making records was financial rather than artistic.
Clearly there were occasions in the studio when he was engaged neither
emotionally nor intellectually, and it is difficult to reconcile some of the
perfunctory performances he left with the magnitude of his reputation.
Karl Muck possessed an astonishingly wide orchestral and operatic
repertoire. Though fiercely conservative in his tastes, he presented music
that he personally disliked, and in some cases did not fully understand,
during his tenure with the Boston Symphony in the years immediately
1. Harold C. Schonberg, The GreatConductors (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1967), 215.
INTRODUCTION
before World War 1.' The public, however, associated him primarily with
Wagner-partially because he conducted Parsifal at Bayreuth from 190I to
1930, partially because of his startling physical and temperamental
resemblance to the composer. Muck also recorded a legendary series of
Wagner performances between 1927 and 1929, including a virtually complete
third act of Parsifal in 1928. Except for some Berlioz, T chaikovsky, Wolf-
Ferrari, and Beethoven with the Boston Symphony in 1917, he recorded no
other composer. Ironically, one of the most versatile performing musicians
is therefore remembered in the public mind almost exclusivelyas a Wagner
conductor.
Among the conductors born in the middle of the nineteenth century,
Felix Weingartner was one of the most prolific in the studio, and in his
case, the body ofrecorded material accurately reflectshis interests, strengths,
and skills as a conductor. The one-time Liszt pupil recorded the music of
his teacher as well as complete cyclesofBeethoven and Brahms symphonies.
(He was the first to record all nine Beethoven symphonies.) Contemporary
reports indicated that the drama ofopera eluded him, and he wisely avoided
the musical theater when he recorded, save for a few overtures, preludes,
and other orchestral tidbits. Oddly, considering his impeccable credentials
in the classical symphonic repertoire, he recorded no Haydn and only one
Mozart symphony, No. 39 (but he recorded it no fewer than four times).
Any recording, even a heavily edited studio product, represents an artist's
interpretation of that work at that moment in time. In essence, it is an
audio snapshot. Indeed, a number of the conductors interviewed here use
the terms photograph or picture to describe recordings. Judgments of
individual performances or overallimpressions ofa musician are conditioned
by the number and nature of the "photographs" available. The recording
industry generally celebrates the new and the technologically up-to-date;
therefore, when a conductor has made multiple versions of the same work,
the newest will usually survive in the company catalogue. If most serious
listeners think of Bruno Walter as warm, genial, even saintly, it is largely
because his stereo remakes of Beethoven, Brahms, and Mozart with the
Columbia Symphony remain more readily available than their older, mono-
phonic, more volatile counterparts. There are, of course, exceptions. All
four of Herbert von Karajan's commercially recorded Beethoven symphony
cycleswere available as of'[uly 1994, fiveyears after his death, thus affording
2. Schonberg, Great Conductors, 220.

4 INTRODUCTION
an opportunity to study the evolution of his approach to this repertoire

over a period of more than three decades.
Recordings can create particularly erroneous impressions of conductors
born late in the nineteenth century, because judgment is often based only
on those performances produced at the end ofa long career. When Toscanini
made his first recordings with the orchestra of La Scala in 1921 at the
Camden, New Jersey, studio ofthe Victor Talking Machine Company (later
RCA Victor), he was fifty-three years old, and fully one-half of his profes-
sional career, about thirty-four years, already lay behind him. Of the ear-
lier period, we have absolutely no aural evidence. The fiercely demanding
maestro contemptuously dismissed this small collection of acoustically re-
corded, sonically dismal tidbits. Thereafter, he visited recording studios
sporadically until his association with the NBC Symphony began during
his seventieth year in 1937. The vast bulk of the commercially available
Toscanini material dates from roughly the last decade of his career-the
late 1940S to his retirement in 1954 at the age of eighty-seven. Over the
years, commentators, especially those immune or indifferent to Toscanini's
powers, have characterized these documents of the maestro's old age as
overly rigid, overly fast, and overly tense; yet a very different picture emerges
from a comparison of the late NBC material with the small handfuls of
commercial discs made with the New York Philharmonic and BBC Sym-
phony Orchestra in the 1930S, the Philadelphia recordings of 1941-42 (not
available in their entirety until 1976), the 1937 Salzburg performances of
Die ZauberfliHe, Die Meistersinger, and Falstaff, as well as all the various
legal and pirated issues of live concerts, including those from the early
NBC years. Recently EMI released a 1935 live BBC performance of the
prelude to act 1 of Parsifal, a performance ofsuch deliberation and flexibility
that it suddenly seems credible that Toscanini did indeed preside over the
slowest Parsifal in Bayreuth history.
The general perception of Otto Klemperer's music-making is similarly
distorted, and for identical reasons. The great German conductor recorded
very little until EMI's legendary producer Walter Legge teamed him with
London's Philharmonia Orchestra in the mid-roses. By then Klemperer
was in his seventies and had survived a daunting series of personal trials
ranging from exile to brain surgery. His style had solidified (some would
say ossified) into a relatively predictable pattern: sometimes grandly
monumental, occasionally just ponderous. As Simon Rattle pointed out
during my interview with him, however, interested listeners who have ac-
INTRODUCTION
cess to the (admittedly scanty) documentation of Klemperer in his pre-

EMI days will hear an entirely different conductor. Though a certain aus-
terity and seriousness ofpurpose characterize all his music-making, his discs
with the Vienna Symphony from the early 1950S, the live material from his
Budapest days in the late 1940s, and the few studio-made recordings from
the 1920S reveal a fiery temperament rarely glimpsed in his later EMI
endeavors.
Klemperer'scontemporary image is further molded by the standard bread-
and-butter, Bach-through-Mahler repertoire he recorded for EMI. For a
listening public that links him with such guardians of tradition as Wilhelm
Furrwangler, Hans Knappertsbusch, and Bruno Walter, it remains hard to
believe that as director of Berlin's Kroll during the Weimar Republic, he
outraged conservative tastes by performing works by Janacek, Krenek, and
Schoenberg, and by producing avant-garde stagings of such popular favor-
ites as Wagner's Der Fliegende Holliinder.
Working successfully in the studio requires an understanding of the role
recordings play in contemporary musical life, as well as enough technical
literacy to be comfortable with the process of making them. Though such
skills may be simple enough for conductors born into an environment in
which recordings have always existed, for their elder colleagues, the studio
remained a totally alien world. In the era of acoustical recording, the stu-
dio forced musicians to crowd uncomfortably in front of a large horn. The
early days of electrical recording presented a world of machines, wires, and
microphones, of distressingly short takes, of constant starting and stop-
ping. The conductor was obliged to try to capture the sense of a public
performance with no public present. Worst of all, the sonic results were
hardly gratifying.
Many famous conductors of the past were understandably unfamiliar
with recording technology and failed to grasp the significance recordings
could have. According to his biographer, Hans-Hubert Schonzeler,
Purrwangler never fully understood the value of a recording until he re-
corded Wagner's Tristan und Isolde for EMI in 1952, though he labored in
the studio from 1925 until his death in 1954. 3 Producer John Cul~haw re-
lated that Hans Knappertsbusch refused to listen to the playback of the first
major take when he recorded act I of Wagner's Die Walkure for London in
1957; rather, he sat alone, serenely smoking a cigarette while cast and crew
3. Hans-Hubert Schonzeler, Furtwangler (Portland, Ore.: Amadeus, 1990), 15I.

6 INTRODUCTION
headed for the control room.' Apparently Klemperer registered genuine

shock when told that a minor mistake in an otherwise exemplary take could
be corrected during editing. The aging giant reportedly turned a despairing
face to his daughter Lotte and proclaimed such technical trickery "ein
Schwindel. "
Toscanini's epic battles with everything connected with the medium have
assumed legendary status. Violinist Samuel Antek remembered that RCA
installed a small speaker at the foot of the maestro's podium so technicians
in the control room could communicate with him easily. When Toscanini
heard a voice issuing from the tiny box, he would bend over and speak back
into it, almost, suggested Antek, as if he assumed a little man resided in-
side.' A scene from the famous 1943 U.S. Office of War Information film
called for Toscanini to place a 78 rpm record on the spindle of his phono-
graph. When the film is shown publicly today, record buffs in the audience
invariably giggle and groan as the maestro mauls the fragile disc like a cham-
pion discus thrower. Both Samuel Chotzinoff and B. H. Haggin have at-
tested to Toscanini's clumsiness while handling his own records, the latter's
description of gouged discs and damaged styli being especially eloquent."
Haggin also remembered that the maestro would sometimes listen to re-
cordings with treble and bass controls turned to the maximum in an appar-
ent attempt to wring every last ounce of sound from a sonically imperfect
document'!
There were, however, conductors born in the last years of the nineteenth
century who managed quite well with recordings. Leopold Stokowski's ca-
reer-long interest in records and recording technology led him to make
some remarkable stereophonic experiments at the Bell Laboratories in the
early 1930S and to embrace the sonic razzle-dazzle of London's Phase 4 tech-
niques in the 1960s. Even though Bruno Walter was in virtual retirement
by the late fifties, Columbia lured him back into the studio to rerecord
much ofhis basic repertoire in stereo. Based on the evidence of the substan-
tial rehearsal material that has been in circulation, the eighty-some-year-
old conductor adjusted to studio conditions far more successfully than many
of his contemporaries.
4- John Culshaw, Ring Resounding (New York: Viking, 1967), 69.
5. Samuel Antek, This Was Toscanini (New York: Vanguard, 1963), II3.
6. Samuel Chorzinoff Toscanini: An IntimatePortrait (New York:Knopf, 1956), 141; B. H. Haggin,

Conversations with Toscanini (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1959), 149.
7. Haggin, Conuersations with Toscanini, 30.
INTRODUCTION 7
Relativeyouth is, however, no real guarantee of technical literacy or com-

fort in the studio. According to rumor, one major conductor cast two vocal
lightweights in a major opera recording because he thought digital technol-
ogy would transform their voices to make them sound more heroic.
In the concert hall and the opera house, the conductor controls every
aspect of the performance; the dynamics, the balances, and the tempi pro-
ceed from his understanding of the score, coupled with his assessment of
the venue's acoustical properties. Recording takes away a portion of that
autocratic control in several ways, not least by allotting power to the pro-
ducer and the producer's technical team. Responsible for setting up and
running the sessions, the producer determines the character of the recorded
sound in consultation with the conductor.
During much of industry history, the producer remained unknown to
the general public. Even today, for most consumers, he is simply one name
among many listed in the credits ofa CD booklet. A few producers, such as
EMI's Walter Legge and London's John Culshaw, have managed to achieve
considerable fame. Legge gave Karajan's career a significant boost in the
immediate postwar years by bringing him to London and the newly cre-
ated Philharmonia Orchestra. Today, Culshaw is remembered almost ex-
clusively for his work in opera. Part technical wizard, part music-loving
philosopher, he argued that modern recording technology should be used
freely and fully to create an ideal sound stage, including aurally dramatic
effects clearly called for in the score or suggested in the action but virtually
impossible to realize during the hubbub of actual performance. With the
active cooperation of such major figures as Georg Solti and Herbert von
Karajan, Culshaw put his theories into practice during the late fifties and
sixties, producing a legendary series of sonically spectacular opera record-
ings that included the first commercial Ring cycle. The issue of Strauss's
Elektra, one of the more extreme examples of Culshaws art, provoked High
Fidelity's Conrad 1. Osborne to challenge the validity of his assumptions,
thus touching off a famous aesthetic debate between the two in the magazine's
pages.
The relationship between conductor and producer is an artistic partner-
ship in the best sense of the term, and since preserving the performance as
attractively and effectively as possible remains a significant part of the
producer's job, he must be something of a musician himself Not all such
marriages are happy. In the waning days of Lorin Maazel's tenure with the
Cleveland Orchestra, rumors began to surface about an explosive exchange
between the maestro and his CBS producer during the sessions for Berlioz's
8 INTRODUCTION
Symphonie fantastique which resulted in Maazel polishing off the piece as

quickly as possible and refusing to listen to the playbacks. The interview
with Maazel included in this book took place roughly at the time of this
confrontation, when his rage was clearly still simmering.
There have been some astonishing mismatches between a conductor's
"sound" and the acoustical environment provided by the producer and the
recording team. George Szellfavored a lean, hard-edged orchestra sonority,
precise attacks, and sharp accents. Ideally, this astringent palette would re-
quire a sense of warmth and space around it, a sonic cushion to show the
performance off to best advantage. Instead, Columbia and its Epic subsid-
iary provided a tight, constricted sonic environment that exaggerated the
hallmarks ofSzell's style; while it served Haydn and Mozart, as well as some
twentieth-century scores reasonably well, it could be distinctly unflattering
to Szell's conceptions of Brahms, Wagner, Strauss, and even Beethoven.
Herbert von Karajan suffered a similar technical mismatch with EMI
during the late fifties and early sixties. The well-known characteristics of
the Karajan style-the smooth, luxurious blended sonorities; the seamless,
effortless flow; the rounded contours-demanded a sound picture empha-
sizing clarity: the sort of acoustic Deutsche Grammophon provided him
through the sixties and seventies. Instead, EMI produced a nebulous, murky
sound (at least on the evidence of their American Angel releases of the late
1950S and early 1960s) that turned his performances into sonic mush.
Since no recording can be issued without the conductor having approved
the final tape, perhaps even the resulting LP or CD, it seems inconceivable
that any discerning musician would let pass a sonically butchered job, even
granting the fact that not all listen equally well with technological ears.
Many of these sonically problematic Szell and Karajan performances are
currently available on CD, and the remastering reveals that at least in some
cases, the engineering faults rested not so much with the original recording
job as with the subsequent processing.
It is astonishing the degree to which the sonic characteristics of a record-
ing can be altered. In the past, both Deutsche Grammophon and Philips
recordings appeared on LPs manufactured and distributed by American
companies: the former by American Decca, the later by Mercury. In both
cases, noisy disc surfaces, a constricted dynamic range, and generally muffled
sound made accurate assessment and enjoyment of the performances
difficult. The inferiority of the American product became shockingly evi-
dent when both companies abandoned the local middlemen and began
INTRODUCTION 9
distributing European-manufactured discs-with their silent surfaces and

cleaner, fuller sound-in the United States. The interpretations preserved
on those immaculate German and Dutch pressings seemed better, even
greater, than the identical performances on poorer, domestically manufac-
tured discs.
In 1963 the London label recorded Carmen in Vienna under Karajan.
For contractual reasons, RCA released the set in the United States while in
Germany Telefunken-manufactured discs were issued in RCA boxes. On
Telefunken, the overture in Karajan's hands explodes with thunderously
brilliant cymbal crashes and sharp, powerful tympani blows. On RCA LPs
the aggressive maestro suddenly turns civilized and genteel, the cymbals
somewhat muted, the tympani strokes soft and a little tubby.
During my interview with Erich Leinsdorf he complained about RCA's
Dynagroove-a process utilized by the company during his Boston Sym-
phony days in the 196os-because he felt it severely distorted the dynam-
ics of the original recordings. Newer European issues, he reported with a
certain wonder, had, according to acquaintances, corrected the sonic aber-
rations he found so offensive.
In a posh Los Angeles record store a number ofyears ago, the discerning
collector in search of Wagner's Rienzi on EMI could choose among Brit-
ish, French, and German LP issues of the same performance. To a record
buff, this is not simply an example of Rodeo Drive-inspired extravagance,
for the truly knowledgeable collector could discourse at length on the subtle
and not-so-subtle sonic variations among the sets.
The digital and CD revolutions appear to have solved some of the prob-
lems associated with this particular issue. Although different releasesof the
same performance can reveal variations in the nature of the sound, sonic
differences based solely on the country of manufacture do not seem to be
the problem with compact discs that they were with long-playing records.
Producers and musicians must have nightmares thinking of the infinite
variety of possible sonic mutilations due to differences in playback equip-
ment and home listening environments. John Culshaw complained to a
journalist who had criticized the London release of Tristan und Isolde for
insufficient bass, only to discover the befuddled reviewer played his records
on a machine with the bass controls turned down and treble controls turned
up to the maximum. 8
8. Culshaw, RingResounding, zro-rr.

10 INTRODUCTION
About twenty-five years ago, Deutsche Grammophon recorded all the

Beethoven symphonies with Raphael Kubelik. Perhaps to give the set some
visibility in a market glutted with Beethoven cycles, the company added a
gimmick: nine separate orchestras from allover the world were employed,
a different ensemble with each symphony. Interestingly, the differences among
the various orchestras were not as striking as perhaps one would have
thought. Another quarter-century before then, the national characteristics
of orchestras had been much more pronounced. Did recordings play any
role in this apparent homogenization?
Similarly, the wide interpretive range evident in the recordings of
Toscanini, Mengelberg, Koussevitzky, Stokowski, Rodzinski, Furrwangler,
Walter, Beecham, and so on seems to have narrowed considerably in the
discs recorded by succeeding generations of conductors. Is this
standardization merely a function of changing aesthetic principles, or are
recordings establishing interpretive norms?
As some of the conductors interviewed indicate, a youthful encounter
with a "special" recording can continue to live in the memory. In a
conversation not included in this book, KlausTennstedt remembers listening
to the Stokowski-Philadelphia Tchaikovsky Fifth with his father in bed
under the covers because the Nazis had placed a ban on all Russian music.
One of the classic debates in the industry pits proponents of studio
recording against supporters of"live" recording. On the one hand, the studio
holds out the promise ofperfection: a note-perfect rendition in which every
important voice can be heard, carefully assembled from a series of takes of
varying length. In opera, a singer can attack the most daunting roles in the
repertoire at full throttle, secure in the knowledge that he or she will not
tire, fluffs can be repaired, and the voice will always be heard even against
the most thunderous orchestral explosions. On the other hand, the live
recording promises the excitement of a unique event and the moments of
tension and inspiration that can only occur during a complete performance
in front of an audience. Christopher Hogwood relishes working in the studio,
eagerly embracing the opportunities for experimentation that it offers.
Leonard Bernstein, however, after years of successful work in Columbia
studios as chief of the New York Philharmonic, came to feel that the live
concert situation suited him better.
Some conductors and their recording teams have found inventive ways
ofcombining the studio with the concert hall. Reportedly, Otto Klemperer
polished off some symphonies and concertos in one huge take, a practice
that Simon Rattle has also come to espouse. When Karl Bohrn recorded
INTRODUCTION II
Tristan und Isolde for Deutsche Grammophon at Bayreuth in 1966, the

opera was performed one act at a time over a three-day period before a
specially invited audience, thus preserving the unique Bayreuth acoustics
and the intensity of a live performance while ensuring that Wolfgang
Windgassen could tackle Tristan's lengthy act 3 delirium in fresh voice."
A related issue involves the question of whether conductors, either by
design or inadvertently, produce different kinds ofperformances in the stu-
dio than in the hall. Klernperer's live recordings vary little in interpretation
from his studio efforts; Furrwangler's differ considerably. Though some of
Furtwangler's concert performances manage to preserve the fierce individu-
ality and extraordinary electricity he could generate in the hall, they do not
bear up as well under repeated hearings as his less extreme studio readings.
Are certain kinds of performances therefore more phonogenic than others?
Are certain performers more phonogenic than others?
For many musicians, recordings become a way of achieving fame and
perhaps preserving some ofit for after their death. On his eightieth birthday
in 1954, Bruno Walter expressed his happiness that recordings guaranteed
that all traces of a performing musician's life would not die with him."
Some conductors, such as Leonard Bernstein and Eugene Ormandy, have
left huge recorded legacies; in the final years ofhis life, Herbert von Karajan
seemed almost obsessed with flooding the market with as many
representations of his audio and visual image as his declining health would
allow.Today, the Estonian maestro Neeme Jarvi appears well on his way to
becoming the most heavily recorded conductor in history.
Yet the dynamics of achieving fame through intensive studio activity
remain fickle, for the history of the industry is dotted with performers who
achieved a measure ofrenown with few recordings. Fritz Busch'sconsiderable
reputation rests almost exclusively on his Glyndebourne-based recordings
of the three Mozart-Da Ponte operas made by HMV from 1934 to 1936.
Hans Knappertsbusch owes his continuing stature to multiple versions-
two commercial, at least three pirated-of one work: Wagner's Parsifal.
Victor de Sabata enjoys an enormous reputation on the basis of a single
recording. The Italian maestro's success in what collectors usually refer to as
"the first Callas Tosca" of 1953 remains so decisive that had he never recorded
another note, his fame would still be assured.
9. Karl Bohm, A Lift Remembered, trans. John Kehoe (London: Marion Boyers, 1992), I02-3.
IO. Bruno Walter, Bruno Walter in Conversation with Arnold Michaels (Columbia Masterworks).
12 INTRODUCTION
And then there is the odd case of Sergiu Celibidache, the Romanian-
born conductor who has won notoriety by refusing to record anything at
all. Branding recordings as musical falsifications, he ceased all studio activity
in the early 1950S. Though he has remained steadfast in his convictions,
more recently he has given his blessing to video discs and video cassettes of
his concerts-as long as the audio portion is not released separately on CD.
The ability of any conductor to make recordings depends in part on the
bottom line: do his recordings sell? I once read that Karajan, Solti, and
Bernstein were the only conductors whose discs could be guaranteed to sell
in quantity, the implication perhaps being that this economic reality gave
them the power to record anything they wished. Though his 1970 version
of Die Zauberj1J#e ranks among the best, Solti decided he wanted to record
the opera again in 1990. Though committing a major opera to tape requires
a much greater investment in time and money than simply rerecording a
Beethoven symphony, London bowed to Solti's wishes. Does any major
label say no to a top-selling artist who has recorded for the company for
over thirty years and also happens to be the all-time Grammy-winning
champ?
Karajan, however, ran into trouble when Deutsche Grammophon balked
at his desire to record a four-LP set of music by Schoenberg, Berg, and
Webern. Those who controlled the pursestrings acquiesced only when the
maestro paid for the project himself," That the set turned into a financial
success is a tribute to the commercial power of Karajans name, not to a
newfound public interest in the Second Viennese School.
On the other hand, in my interview with Erich Leinsdorf, he bemoans
his inability to interest major labels in some admittedly esoteric projects
that especially interested him. In this case, economic concerns triumphed
over artistic considerations. No matter what the repertoire, all Leinsdorf's
name on a record sleeve or CD booklet guarantees is a high degree of
professionalism, not high sales.
Recordings also serve as public relations documents and marketing tools,
commodities to keep extra cash flowing into orchestra coffers, the ideal
vehicles to extend the reputations of both ensemble and conductor beyond
the boundaries of their home base. When major symphony orchestras go
through the grueling process of searching for a new music director, candi-
dates' ability to bring a recording contract to the organization weighs al-
II. Richard Osborne, Conversations with Von Karajan (New York: Harper & Row, 1989), 120.
INTRODUCTION 13
most as heavily as solid musical credentials. Apparently Zubin Mehta

floundered in New York partially because the Philharmonic's recording
activities dwindled to almost nothing during his tenure. As Charles Dutoit
suggests during our interview, those musicians who do not record have
"careers a little hidden."
From a marketing perspective, a constant, steady stream of new releases
is ideal. One Severance Hall executive registered his lack ofconcern when I
informed him some of Dohnanyi's initial London recordings with the Cleve-
land Orchestra had been cut from the catalogue, because there was such a
backlog of fresh material awaiting release.
Management, conductor, and label must also deal with vexing questions
of what repertoire to record, an especially difficult dilemma for a younger
musician trying to establish name recognition in a crowded CD market. Is
it wise from either an economic or artistic standpoint for relatively green,
little-known talent to tackle Beethoven and Brahms symphonies when every
major conductor beginning with Arthur Nikisch has placed a personal stamp
on this music? And if mainstream repertoire is to be avoided, how far into
the fringes should one venture?
These interviews do not reveal definitive answers to such questions. I
had no particular ideological positions to defend when I began this project
in 1981; my intention was to explore the issues with people who constantly
have to grapple with them as part of their professional lives.
All the conversations took place when the conductor involved was
appearing with the Cleveland Orchestra in Ohio, either in Severance Hall
or at the Blossom Music Center. Our meetings had to be squeezed in among
rehearsals, meals, semiofficial duties, even other interviews; time was always
a terrible problem, especially during the tightly scheduled summer season
at Blossom. The question I include in almost every interview about the
public accepting a certain level of technology but seeing danger in further
progress seemed a handy way of bringing the conversation to a close-
though in some instances, it obviously provoked further discussion.
I present the interviews here in chronological order. When I spoke with
Lorin Maazel in 1981, he had already produced his first spectacular digital
LPs for Telarc, and the medium of the compact disc stood on the horizon.
Taken in the order in which they occurred, these discussions provide an
ongoing commentary on the developing digital revolution and subsequent
CD explosion.
The interviews are reproduced more or less as they happened, minus a
few potentially libelous remarks. Grammatical slips have been corrected,
14 INTRODUCTION
but everyattempt has been made to preserve individual usagesand phrasings.

Throughout, my aim was to allow each conductor to make his points in his
own way and to preserve insofar as possible the flavor of the individuals in
conversation. There are, no doubt, statements the conductors involved would
love to modify or take back entirely. Like the recorded performances with
which they are concerned, however, these interviews represent specific
moments in time-snapshots of the speakers' thoughts, attitudes, and
OpInIOns.
LORIN MAAZEL
BEFORE LORIN MAAZEL came to Cleveland in 1972 as George Szell's succes-

sor, he had recorded with a variety of ensembles for a number of major
labels. Most of his significant pre-Cleveland studio work, however, had
been for London, and the company-apparently eager to expand its activi-
ties in the United States-followed the young American maestro to the
shores of Lake Erie, just as it had followed Zubin Mehta to Los Angeles in
1967 and Georg Solti to Chicago in 1969.
In addition to this new relationship, the orchestra continued its long-
standing association with Columbia, and Maazel divided the obligatory
sets of Brahms and Beethoven symphonies between the two labels. His
interest in new recording technologies also led him to establish a partner-
ship with Cleveland-based Telarc, an alliance that produced a direct-to-disc
effort in the waning days of analog technology and then the company's first
digital recordings with a major ensemble.
Maazel has always demonstrated a flare for the dramatic, as well as a
touch of the maverick. During his career, he has allied himself with both
major and minor labels and has worked on an astonishingly wide range of
projects. His eclectic recorded repertoire embraces everything from Don
Giovanni to Porgy and Bess, from Bach and Debussy to Zemlinsky and
Andrew Lloyd Webber. Interestingly, his short-lived directorship of the
Vienna State Opera yielded only a single recording, a live taping ofPuccini's
Turandot.
I interviewed Lorin Maazel in October of 198r during his final season in
Cleveland. Despite rumors alleging that a virtual state of war existed be-
tween the angry, departing maestro and the board of trustees, he appeared
calm, relaxed, and thoughtful. Even at the time, his projections of his fu-
ture recording activities seemed overly optimistic, and though he has worked
steadily in the studio since leaving Cleveland, I doubt he has produced
recordings in the numbers he suggests here. ..>('
16 RE CORO( NG THE CLASS ICS
To view this im a ge, pl ea se refer to th e print version

of this book
London prod ucer Michael Woolcock (cm u r) and Lorin Maazel (right) ar a recording ses-
sion for Gershwi n's Porgy and &n in August 1975. Photo by Peter Has tings. Coun esy of the:
Archives of the M usical Arts As.~ociarionlthc Cleveland Orchestra.
BADAL: Maestro, cond ucto rs of your generation seem to accept recordings

fairly read ily; yet the older gene rations, men like Toscanini and Fun-
wangle r. hated the process and hated the results.
MAAZEL: Undoubtedly, they were affected by pro blems ofsound reproduc-
tion . It really was quite awful at that time, what with the 78. You see,
they cou ld never get mote than five minutes per movement on a side.
And five min utes of the firsr movem ent of the Brah ms whatever or th e
Beethoven whatever was the amount you could get th rough. You'd have
to blend out and then blend in to the spot you 'd left off at on the ot he r
side of the record ing. That's hardly satisfactory to a musician. JUSt un-
thinkable! But with the advent of the long play, 33, you got to the point
where you could put most normal-length works on one side of the re-
cordi ng. And that changed- tha t and high fidelity and then stereo--
that changed everything. I can't imagine life without recorded sound.
BADAL: W hat value do you t hink recordings have?
LORIN MAAZEL 17
MAAZEL: Well, assuming the recording represents the view of the work held
by the interpreter at that time-a view developed over a period of years
in the concert hall-the recording does become a kind of document. As
a document of the interpreter's view of the work, it is very precious in-
deed. Assuming the interpreter has something to say, such documenta-
tions have value. I find recording an extremely important part of our
cultural life today. I can't imagine not having recorded sound at my dis-
posal. And I'm a professional musician and don't listen to as many re-
cordings as music lovers would. I don't have the time; and when I do
listen, it's usually for professional reasons-to familiarize myself with a
work I haven't heard, some odd or offbeat affair, or more likely with the
interpretation of an artist I've never heard live. The recorded music I
listen to when it's a question of enjoying an evening, that is usually re-
corded music in fields other than my own. And I can't imagine listening
to the imperial court music in Japan-having to go there and listen,
hear it, as I have, and then not have the opportunity of being able to
hear that music someplace else at some other time. It's true of classical
music or whatever-to be able to put that recording on, on your terrace
on a summer evening; it's absolutely marvelous. I just can't imagine that
there would be any overriding reason not to record. Having said that,
everything has its place. The live performance has in no way been af-
fected negatively by the recorded one.
BADAL: Some say that live performances have been adversely affected by
recordings.
MAAZEL: Well, I think a live performance can only be positively affected, if
I can draw upon my own experience in this matter. The microphone is a
great monster. It tells you everything. The impression the younger artist
has, and must have, of his performance-the very nature of the subjec-
tivity in which he prepared his view, developed his very fresh, green,
young view-makes it absolutely impossible for him to grasp the true
effect ofhis performance on the listener. It is the task of the performer to
project a view of the work. He can't do so unless he's effectively project-
ing, "effectively" meaning translating into true terms, practical terms,
his inherent, felt, intuitive view of the work. That requires finding the
proper technical means to express what he wants to say. He may think
that he has found them. More often than not, in microphone terms, he
hasn't. Ifhe's an intelligent artist-and many aren't and therefore fall by
the wayside-he will note there's a discrepancy between what he wants
IS RECORDING THE CLASSICS
to say and what's been said. He'll try to find out just why that's happen-
ing. He hears it one way, and the result is quite different. Listening to his
first effort, he begins to discover that there's only one way to be efficient
in artistic projection. I use that word advisedly, and I know it may sound
very shocking; but I read a phrase about a year ago, an apparently sim-
plistic little phrase, to the effect that there are just two activities. One is
effective, and one isn't. Ofcourse, it struck me as being dreadfully simplis-
tic. And then I began to apply it to everything that human beings ... every
activity that a human being may find himself involved in. I discovered,
in truth, there are only two courses to take. And that's certainly true in
music. However sensitive a musician may be, if you don't find the means
to express that sensitivity, express your view technically, you won't be
able to project what you have to say to a third party. Therefore, the
recording is extremely helpful; and I've found that, yes, it has affected
my performances, but only to the good.
BADAL: Do you conduct differently for a recording than you do for a live
concert?
MAAZEL: I don't draw a line between a recorded performance and a live
performance. The only exception in this as far as I'm concerned is the
area of timing, because there are certain spaces that cannot be filled au-
rally. The visual effect, obviously, is a component and should be, and
should be. A dramatic sweep of the hand across a guitar means nothing
except a lot ofwrong notes and cut fingernails on a recording. And yet in
the concert hall that rhetorical sweep of the hand is very important-
very effective and important, extremely important. And when you real-
ize that those effects, the visual effects, if you will-those which playa
role in projecting your expression-cannot be used, then obviously your
timing is affected, and you tend to tighten spaces between notes. Also,
there is a question of the acoustics of the hall. Usually one records in
halls with a great deal of resonance. One tends to adjust tempi, depend-
ing on the nature of the work, to that sound. But then one does so
anyway in a live performance, and one should.
BADAL: In the ten years you've been conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra,
the ensemble has made many recordings with you but few with other
conductors. In that same time frame, the Chicago Symphony has re-
corded with five major conductors. Which arrangement is better for an
orchestra?
MAAZEL: Well, I think that a major orchestra should record with several
LORIN MAAZEL 19
conductors, providing they are major conductors. I would think, per-

haps, three or four. But the Cleveland Orchestra was a very special case.
The Cleveland Orchestra had no recording program when I arrived here.
They were not considered to be commercial. And it was my task as mu-
sic director to prove the contrary, that any orchestra enjoying a fine repu-
tation could also enjoy that reputation while selling a lot of records. So it
was my task to establish the reputation of the orchestra again in the
recording field, which we managed to do over a period of five or six
years.And then the association ofthe orchestra with me became so firmly
planted in the minds of the record-buying public that other conductors
... it didn't seem likely they would record with the orchestra, even
though I would have welcomed that. That is not the situation now, how-
ever. Now as my tenure is coming to an end, I've gone out of my way to
see to it that other conductors record with the orchestra, take up the
slack. It will be recording with other conductors, and I think that's very
good.
BADAL: Can an orchestra establish a character of its own apart from a con-
ductor?
MAAZEL: Yes, an orchestra can achieve, and every orchestra does, a kind of
character of its own. The conductor who knows his job, who is a fine
technician, who knows how to make an orchestra sound, can take a
student orchestra made up of good players and produce a performance
that would be as characteristic of his view as that recorded with the
Berlin Philharmonic or the Vienna Philharmonic. But there are orches-
tras, because of their tradition, their roots, which develop personalities
of their own, such as the Berlin Philharmonic, such as the Vienna Phil-
harmonic. American orchestras with character? Yes! I think I would rec-
ognize the Cleveland Orchestra, though the orchestra has a much more
homogeneous sound. Very sensitive! A very versatile orchestra! It does
respond to what's demanded of it but will not necessarily give an idiom-
atic performance if there is not someone of great authority at the helm,
which is not the case with the Vienna Philharmonic or the Berlin Phil-
harmonic. They will play idiomatically and well irrespective of who's
conducting; but the performance will be much, much better, a much
greater performance, if there's a good conductor there.
BADAL: You have stressed the importance of orchestras utilizing all forms of
media: recording, filmmaking, television. YetEuropean orchestras seem to
be much more involved in this sort ofactivity than American orchestras.
20 RECORDING THE CLASSICS
MAAZEL: One of the problems is money. The A. F. of M. [American Fed-

eration of Musicians] contract prohibited any work of this nature at all.
In order to develop an idea, you need time, and the cost is so prohibitive
as to nip any initiative in the bud. It's not just a matter of subsidy in
Europe; it's just a different way of viewing the role that TV plays. Or-
chestras are paid and paid handsomely, but the contractual arrangements
are such that you don't have to have up front money of several hundred
thousand dollars to be paid within two weeks if you should want to
record an orchestra, which is the case here. It's an immense amount of
money. That contract has been renegotiated, as we all know, because the
A. F. ofM. has come to realize that it has prevented American orchestras
from getting involved in what can be, in the long run, a very lucrative
and artistically an extremely interesting affair.
BADAL: You have made many recordings with the Cleveland Orchestra.
Why are works which you have performed with the orchestra, such as
Tippett's A ChildofOur Time and Britten's warRequiem, passed over?
MAAzEL: Well, again we're dealing with some facts oflife. I don't know how
many times I've attempted to get some of our contemporary music pro-
grams even funded, foundations, whatever! Get them on record. And
just to no avail.And I do have a lot ofclour. And I just ... I wasn't able to
swing it. There's one recording of the Britten! Very lovely! I would have
loved to have recorded that and made several attempts to get it recorded,
just to no avail. You see, there was a crisis, a recording crisis, about three
or four years ago. The market just fell apart. And there was a plethora of
recordings and a dearth of sales. It was a bad situation. And of course,
the digital, and in addition to the digital, the threat of the video disc! No
one is taking any chances whatsoever. They're rerecording the basic rep-
ertoire inch by inch and watching the market very, very carefully. And
it's going to be more Beethoven, more Brahms. I'll be recording a great
deal for CBS. As you may know, I have a five-year contract with them,
and that calls for something like fifty LPs. I also have a very long term
and deep relationship with Deutsche Grammophon. I'll be working with
them a great deal. So I may produce one hundred LPs in the next five
years, almost all of which will be right in the center of the repertoire.
BADAL: Many record collectors would say that the sound quality on CBS is
mediocre and the pressings are noisy. If this is the case, does it do you or
the orchestra any good to appear on CBS?
MAAzEL: With regard to CBS, you're quite right. The pressings were not
LORIN MAAZEL 21
good. The quality of the recordings was very good, but the pressings
here in the United States were poor because they were being pressed by
people who knew nothing about classical music. There's been a pro-
found reform at CBS in the last two years, and everything has changed
at Masterworks. They've now bought a new laboratory for pressing;
they've changed the administration profoundly. They're aware of the
problem. It's no problem in Europe because the tapes, which were very
good, were pressed in Europe.'
BADAL: Record companies are sometimes accused of exploiting promising
talent before it has fully developed.
MAAZEL: They were at certain times. I think things have settled into place
now.The companies have learned their lesson.They lost a fortune, mainly
because people were incompetent. It takes a long time to become com-
petent, very long. You can show a lot of promise, but if you have four
hours to record a fifty-five-minute piece that's complex, you've got to
have a lot of experience under your belt. And since each quarter of an
hour costs $15,000, you can't waste time. You need accomplished, com-
petent soloists who will go into the studio and do the job beautifully.
And that takes a very high degree of professionalism. I've heard hun-
dreds of broadcasts of artists I've never heard of who are very brilliant
and who were working wherever-Phoenix, Calgary, New York.Ifsome-
one is truly of value, he doesn't have to be nurtured by a recording com-
pany. He's just going to pop into public view because he deserves it. The
era of the undiscovered talent is long since dead. It's not with us at all.
We have too many discoveries of untalented people.
BADAL: Don't people tend to think of any artist in terms of what he has
recorded?
MAAZEL: That I don't know. I've no way of knowing that. Some people like
Michelangelo and Celibidache hardly record, and their careers are ex-
traordinary. On the other hand, you have many artists who have re-
corded everything who are no better thought of today than they were
many years ago; I can think ofone conductor who I think has recorded
every piece ever written. Their reputations haven't been helped or hurt.
It's just they've recorded. Fine! Everybody takes note of it, but it doesn't
mean anything insofar as their careers are concerned. A career is really a
meshing of several undertakings, initiatives, one ofwhich is recordings.
Television plays a role too. All of these playa role.
BADAL: You are often given credit for being the first major conductor to
make digital recordings. How did your association with Telarc come
about, and what do you think of digital sound?
MAAZEL: Hearing in this case is believing. I was in Japan, and Mr. Akio
Morita, a good friend of mine of the Sony Company, played a digitally
recorded opera for me, which at that time was not in commerce. It was
the first digital recording ever made. It was made alongside the analog.
And I was absolutely stupefied. It was just incredible. And when the
technique was explained to me, and I understood why the sound was so
pristine and pure as it was.... And then when Telarc came along about
six months later with a relationship with Soundsteam, they showed me
what they could do, and I said, "Yes, that's great. Let'sgo ahead and do it."
This is the sound of the future; there's no questions about it. The
difference is so, is so .... Many people don't realize they don't have the
proper playback equipment for digital recording. In four or five years
we're going to have it, and then everything that's being done today will
come into its own. The difference today is, let's say, a 10 percent jump in
quality, but when you hear it on digital playback equipment, you're in
heaven. You really are in heaven because it's the purest sound. It's purer
than the sound itself, if you know what I mean. Somehow hearing an
instrument-there are visual interruptions. A lot of people listen to music
with their eyes closed in a concert hall; but still there is the sound of a
distant trolley, an overhead flight, or a radiator or something, or a creak-
ing chair, somebody rustling a program, or a cough, or whatever. This is
just pure sound. And to be in your room with a wraparound situation,
then you're in heaven; you're in sound heaven.
Notes
1. At the time, the composer's own recording remained the only available version. There have
been others since.
2. CBS is now Sony.

COLIN DAVIS
ONE OF THE keys to a successful recording career is to find a niche. Colin

Davis found his with a French composer on a Dutch label. After some
sporadic studio activity early in his career for EMI and LOiseau-Lyre, Davis
signed with Philips in the mid-sixties and began to record Berlioz.
The Colin Davis Berlioz cycle stands as one of the phonograph's most
significant achievements. Well over a decade in the making, the series em-
braced virtually everything Berlioz wrote involving the orchestra, includ-
ing the first commercial recordings of the operas Benvenuto Cellini and Les
Troyens. A large measure of Davis's success with the French master derives
from his ability to stress the delicate, even classical side of the composer's
thinking as well as the romantically extravagant.
As his years with Philips coincided with his tenure at Covent Garden in
London, Davis's discography includes a number of operas. Of these, his
readings of Mozart, Britten, and Tippett tended to garner more favorable
critical attention than his forays into Verdi and Puccini.
More recently he has recorded for Sony, RCA, and the relatively small
German label Orfeo.
Our interview occurred at Severance Hall in March of 1982. Davis had
made a spectacular debur with the Cleveland Orchestra the summer before
at the Blossom Music Center, and the rumor mills were circulating his
name freely as a possible successor to Lorin Maazel. At the time of the
interview, Davis was fighting a crippling case oflaryngitis, and the rigors of
the morning rehearsalhad clearly eroded his vocal resources. Still, he pressed
on gamely-sometimes relaxing in his chair, sometimes slapping the closed
score on the desk before him for emphasis-until by the end ofthe interview
his voice had dwindled to little more than a hoarse whisper. ...",
23
1.4 R.I! C O RDI N G T I1.1! C LASSICS
To view this image, please refer to the print version

of this book
Colin Davis. Autho r's ccllecrion.

COLIN DAVIS 25
BADAL: Maestro, the older generation of conductors, men like Toscanini

and Furtwangler, hated records.They hated the physicalprocess ofmaking
them, and they hated the results-not just because they sounded
inadequate. I think they had an aesthetic objection to the whole idea of
making a record. Now, someone like yourself who has made a lot of
records, and a lot of very significant records, must have come to some
kind of terms aesthetically with the whole idea of recording. Why do
you think your point of view is different from theirs?
DAVIS: Well, they didn't have the same techniques as we do. They had to
play six-minute sections to fit on one side of a 78, and if anything went
wrong, they had to go back to the beginning and do it again. Then they
had to stop, and then they had to do the next bit. That is really no way
to make music, now is it? It's amazing the records came out as well as
they did. Now we have a technique whereby we can play the whole piece
through, and then if there are little disasters, we can patch them up.
BADAL: Would you call yourself an adherent to the long-take principle?
DAVIS: Oh, but ofcourse. I mean, that's obvious. Sometimes one gets into the
position when one is recording an opera of having to do it in all the wrong
order, and it is amazing how it sounds, for the most part, logical. The
musical mind has some means of kind of locking in where it should be.
BADAL: I suppose it would be easier to record a Mozart opera out of se-
quence than it would be Wagner, for example.
DAVIS: Yes, of course it would. That is certainly so. But I regard records
principally as information. What has happened is that the whole of the
musical literature as we have it from the sixteenth century onward is
now available--or it was available, because, unfortunately, gramophone
record companies are not primarily interested in music. They're inter-
ested in money, and if they don't make money, they tend to delete the
music [from their catalog], which, of course, irritates musicians enor-
mously. I wanted to get a recording ofa certain Mozart string trio, and it
was deleted. That's a scandal. I have a very small opinion of the musical
commitment ofrecord companies, and I'm sure they would entirely agree
with me. But when one has made available, for example, all the chamber
music of Schoenberg and Berg, and all the chamber music of Bach and
Brahms, and so on, you've done something useful. And then if anyone
wants to, he can go to a library, borrow a record, and find out what that
music is like. I feel that I've done something useful with the recordings
of the Berlioz pieces because they weren't available, and nobody really
knew that music because nobody played it. Records are immensely
useful now because opera houses always refer to them.
BADAL: So you're saying that records have a certain educational value.
DAVIS: It's information. It's actually there. And if you want to know what
Beatrice and Benedict sounds like, you can go and get a record and find
out, whereas before, you couldn't. If you looked the piece up in a book,
somebody would say, "Oh well, Berlioz wasn't a very good composer
anyway," and you would come away with no idea about the piece at all
and probably no interest in it.
BADAL: I must say I never thought Berlioz was a good composer until I
heard your recordings. I like the Symphonie fantastique as much as
anybody, and I get a physical kick out ofthe massed parts ofthe Requiem,
but I never really liked him until I heard your recordings.
DAVIS: Well then, perhaps I have been useful. But beyond that, I don't feel
that making records is really a true way of making music, because there's
nobody there to listen to it. It's a slightly incestuous thing because it's
musicians making music with musicians, trying to produce something
perfect, which is impossible because we are human, and we do make
mistakes, and nothing that we do in a performance is that perfect-not
perfect in that sense, in a scientific sense. The human element is vari-
able, and very often the performance of a piece is greater than the num-
ber of mistakes that are made in it. That's one aspect of it. The other is
that a record is really like a dead butterfly pinned to a wall in a museum.
I much prefer to see them flying around.
BADAL: Do you listen to your own recordings?
DAVIS: Well, I listen to them when they come out because I want to know
what kind of job we've made of it, and then I very rarely listen to them
again-unless it's some particular piece, say, Sibelius's Sixth Symphony,
which nobody plays, and I want to hear that particular sound. Actually,
the last time I wanted to hear Sibelius's Sixth, it turned out to be Lorin
Maazel and the Vienna Philharmonic, and that was lovely. But I won't
listen to my recording of Tosca unless I have to conduct Tasca: I have,
however, listened to the recording we made of the Missa Solemnis, more
than once.' And although it is by no means a perfect recording, I think
that is the thing of which I am most proud. I think that sounds, to me,
something like Beethoven in his struggle with God.
BADAL: There was a time I thought the Missa Solemnis was the greatest pieceof
music everwritten by anybody, and I'm not sure I don't still believe that.
COLIN DAVIS 27
DAVIS: &, I said on the Marathon,' it is the greatest piece of public music.
That leaves out things like the Mozart string quintets, so we don't have
to get into that. But it is astounding, and I was proud of that recording.
BADAL: How do you use recordings? Simply, as you say, as information-to
find out what a piece is like?
DAVIS: Yes. I mean, if I've got to do the Berg Three Pieces for Orchestra and
I've never heard them, I can't see any shame in following a record and
just getting an impression of the kind of sound. Of course, I'm lucky
enough to have done WOzzeck and Lulu, so I know what to expect. And
I don't think there's anything wrong in that. People say that if you listen
to gramophone records too much, you'll become so used to the
performance that all you'll do is imitate it. That is absolutely untrue. All
that happens to me when I listen to a record is I see the possibilities; and
since I don't want the piece to go that way, I can't bear to listen to it
again. Even with my own recordings I think, gosh, that was ten years
ago. That was absolutely dreadful.
BADAL: Is that why you rerecorded the Symphonie fantastique?
DAVIS: No. I rerecorded the Symphonie fantastique because the record
company wanted me to. And so I did.'
BADAL: I've noticed that certain kinds of performances don't repeat well. You
take a Furtwangler radio tape, for example. The first or second time you
play it, you can be absolutely bowled over by the incredible intensity.
DAVIS: You never want to hear it again.
BADAL: You don't want to hear it too many times. The very qualities that
make it so exciting the first few times don't repeat very well.
DAVIS: That's right.
BADAL: Your performances repeat very nicely.
DAVIS: I don't know that. I don't know that. But then I'm a certain kind of
musician who does not go in for eccentricities-I hope. The man who
doesn't is probably more bearable more often. But I don't leave out the
eccentricities because I want people to listen to my records. That's not it
at all. I just happen to be that kind ofman, and that's my attitude toward
it. Now, listening to music in a concert hall has nothing to do with
listening to records. It's a different attitude altogether. First of all, some-
one is there playing; the orchestra is there playing. That's already excit-
ing. And the people who have come have taken the trouble to shave and
put some clothes on-they may be in blue jeans, but I'll bet they've
washed-and they've made an effort. They've come expecting something.
The man who goes home, worn out, and puts on a disc is not in that
frame of mind at all. When you're sitting in your own room listening,
there's no adrenaline running. There's nothing at all except a desire to
find pleasure, or, if you're a musician, a kind of clinical appraisal ofwhat's
going on. When I listen to tapes of live performances I've given, good-
ness me, I learn what I'm doing wrong. And that's why the Furrwangler
performance isn't going to work on record. If the listener had been in a
hall with the Berlin Philharmonic, he would have probably gone out
blown out of his mind. But when you hear Furtwangler do a Brahms
symphony, and he makes those special slowing downs which interrupt,
for me, the logic of the performance, and he's not there doing it, I can't
enjoy it. When I heard Toscanini's Missa Solemnis on record, I got in
such a rage that he should do such a thing that I didn't even want to get
to the end. Whereas if I had been there, I might have accepted it.
BADAL: Do you conduct differently for records than you do for a concert?
DAVIS: I'm trying to make music the way I want it to sound. I mean, that's
all I can do. I'm just mad about music, and that's how it is. I'm trying to
find the life of that music, whether it's for a recording or whether it's for
the audience.
BADAL: There was a time when the range ofinterpretive possibilities seemed
very great. SayToscanini, Klemperer, Furrwangler, and Walter doing the
Beethoven Fifth. That range seems to have narrowed. Differences be-
tween conductors today don't seem as great. Is that simply an evolution
of musical understanding or are recordings playing a part, establishing
interpretive boundaries which some people feel they can't go beyond?
DAVIS: I haven't the faintest idea about that. But since you ask the ques-
tion, I'm going to put this to you. There has been an explosion of schol-
arship since the men you are mentioning were in their prime. There is
much more attention given to the detailed instructions in the score.
From what we read about Wagner's conducting and Mendelssohn's, and
so on, they were pretty cavalier with the music they conducted. Wagner
complained about Mendelssohn taking everything too fast. Wagner was
famous for his accelerandi and his wild crescendos, and all the rest.
Berlioz was famous for his clinical French mind, which didn't go in for
those kind of excesses, though his music does sometimes. They cer-
tainly were much freer in their own subjective, romantic response to
music. We have dropped all that really, and we try quite seriously to get
back to what the composer could possibly have meant. We are less con-
COLIN DAVIS 29
cerned with ourselvespossibly, possibly. I'm not saying it's better or worse.
There's no moral judgment in this. But it wasn't until the middle of the
nineteenth century that anyone had heard of the St. Matthew Passion.
BADAL: Thanks to Mr. Mendelssohn.
DAVIS: Exactly, and what the devil they knew about John Wilbye or Purcell
or Orlando Gibbons! And all those fantasies where there weren't any bar
lines at all and the rhythm was completely free! Did they know any-
thing about that at all? I doubt it. The editions of Mozart that you find
in the nineteenth century are really not what we think of as Mozartian
at all. And all these men you've mentioned were born in the nineteenth
century and carried that tradition with them.
BADAL: With the passage of time, orchestras seem to have lost something
of the distinctive characteristics they had forty or fifty years ago, with
certain exceptions, such as the Vienna Philharmonic or some of the
East German orchestras. But it seems to me that if you play recordings
made in the twenties or thirties, you are much more conscious of-
DAVIS: National characteristics.
BADAL: I'm wondering if records have played a part in the disappearance of
those national differences.
DAVIS: That I don't know. But I do know that it's Mahler and Bruckner
who have changed all that. In Paris, they all played with vibrato, and
they used to play their French bassoons, and their clarinets made a cer-
tain kind of noise. Then along came Solti and Barenboim wanting to
play Bruckner and so on, and they demanded that they play German
horns and buy Heckel bassoons. So they don't play with vibrato any
more. It's a different thing. I went to the Orchestre de Paris, and we did
Ravel. And I said, "What's happened? We should play it like French-
men. Play it with vibrato." They all laughed because that's gone. I loved
it. It was beautiful what they used to do. But the first horn in Dresden
plays with vibrato, and that surprised me no end. Very beautiful.
BADAL: You just made some recordings with the Dresden Staatskapelle.
DAVIS: That's a beautiful orchestra. So it's the kind of music that has be-
come popular, especiallywith conductors, that has ironed out the sound.
There are still national ways ofplaying the oboe, certainly, and the clari-
net. There's the English clarinet. And the Berlin clarinet, which is a
round sound. Then there's the Italian, which is very thin, and the French,
which is thin. But it's strange that the Orchestre de Paris has an English-
sounding clarinet player.
BADAL: So this might be a function of the jet age rather than records.
DAVIS: I think so.
BADAL: Record companies are sometimes accused ofdoing one of two things:
on the one hand, they are often accused of ignoring new talent and
concentrating on established names in established repertoire; on the other
hand, they are sometimes accused offinding new talent and exploiting it
before it is ready. Do you have any comment on this?
DAVIS: I have only one comment, and that is that the prime business of a
recording company is to make money. Actually, they haven't got a hope
in hell of making money, so all they're trying to do is lose as little as
possible. They don't really have any artistic line of thought or de-
velopment. And we have to face that. They may feel very affronted if I
say that, but I know that this is true. I will not bore you with my experi-
ences with my own record company-not that it's mine, but I've had
a relationship with it for fifteen years. Sadly, I've come to that con-
clusion.
BADAL: From my perspective, were I a musician, I would far rather record
for your company than a few others I could name.
DAVIS: Yes, that is probably true. Philips has a very good record in this
respect.
BADAL: There was an interview that Bruno Walter gave when he was eighty.
One thing he stressed was the historical aspect of records. A singer can
playa Caruso record and hear where he took his breath. Or someone
can hear how Toscanini phrased something. Is this important to you?
DAVIS: Oh, yes. That is the most positive aspect of it. We have now laid
down fifty years of the history of musical performance. That's beautiful
because you can fish out, if you want, Grumiaux's two old recordings of
the Mozart violin concertos. I don't know if you can get them any more,
but every kid who plays the fiddle should hear them, because there's
something about the way Grumiaux played that fiddle which is unbe-
lievable. Or if you can find the old recordings of Menuhin playing the
Elgar! I was brought up on Kreisler's Beethoven Concerto and Mischa
Elman's Tchaikovsky. And Schnabel playing the Beethoven G Major
Concerto. I remember those things, and they were wonderful. There's
something special about Rachmaninov and Kreisler playing Schubert's
Grand Duo. These things should be preserved, and people should hear
the way they played. You may not like it, but they were great musicians.
What comes out of these people is that search for the life of the music.
COLIN DAVIS 31
It's a different kind of taste, but it's still genuine. Something else I want
to stress is all the men you've mentioned learned their trade in the opera
house. How many people are doing that now?
BADAL: Not too many. If I remember your biography, you did.
DAVIS: I'm still there. I think that's the place where you find out about
conducting and find out about music, because all this wonderful sym-
phonic music really began in the theater, and the theater really began in
the church.
BADAL: Well, it's like drama too.
DAVIS: Well, it is, isn't it? How can you really handle a Bruckner symphony
if you don't know Die Meistersinger or The Ring? Bruckner worshiped
Wagner. He was his god. You can't approach it the other way around.
And when you've done the fourteen hours of The Ring, a Mahler
symphony doesn't seem so long.
BADAL: I read yout negative comments on Mahler.
DAVIS: Yes, the Fifth is a bit of a problem for me; but really, some of his
music is so wonderful, and I was only being a bit naughty because Mahler
is such the fashionable composer now.
BADAL: Bruno Walter also said in that same interview that he was glad that
all traces of his career as a performer would not disappear. Now, you're
far from being an old man, and certainly nowhere near as old as he was
when he made that statement, but do any such thoughts enter yout
mind as you're making a recording?
DAVIS: Not really, in that sense. I think I've done, as I say, some useful
things. If I hadn't fought three battles, four battles, there wouldn't be
any recordings of the Berlioz pieces. I took seven years-it's like Jacob
and his wife, and then he got the wrong wife and had to work another
seven-to get The Trojans on record, seven years. It took almost as long
to get Peter Grimes. And then there was The MidsummerMarriage and
all those Tippett pieces. If we hadn't done The Midsummer Marriage,
nobody would know that music. I do feel that it's perhaps been useful.
That doesn't count as a tremendous statement about anything. But I am
pleased with certain things that we've done. I was very pleased with those
Sibelius symphonies we made in Boston.
BADAL: What do you think about the debate between digital and analog
sound?
DAVIS: I'm sorry, I don't find any of it interesting. I can't really tell if you
play me a recording whether it's digital or not. I don't listen to music like
that. I'm not a hi-fi fiend. All I'm doing is listening to the music itself, so
I really don't know. It's like playing Mozart to cows so they give more
milk. Let's try them with digital! If it turns into butter, there must be
something wrong.
The only thing I can say about the new technology is that records will
have to be made allover again, and people will have to buy an awful lot
more equipment. The industry, you know, is in grave difficulties because
the whole literature has been recorded. There is hardly a work by
Dittersdorfthat you can't get somewhere or other. And this is the tragedy
of our civilization. Our literature has come to an end, and it's wearing
out. There is, of course, all the experimental music, but we shall not live
long enough to know whether Stockhausen's Donnerstagor Boulez's Eclats
will be the daily fare fifty or one hundred years from now. Berlioz said,
"One hundred years from now people will listen to my music," and he
was right. And Mozart! He didn't say that, but he's there too. He came
out right on top of all of them, that poor little man. For the moment,
the great tradition of Europe has come to an end with its last daughter,
which is music. And I happen to feel that it is our duty to preserve this
thing because it's the only thing we've got left.
BADAL: Ingmar Bergman said something very similar.
DAVIS: Well, I think many of us feel this. And that is why music is so
important to us and why we must not do it any harm.
Notes
1. The reference here is to his Philips recording. He has since produced a digital version on RCA.
2. The annual WCLV-FM Marathon to raise money for the Cleveland Orchestra.
3. This refers ro his second recording ofthe piece with the Concertgebouw Orchestra ofAmsterdam.
His earlier recording was with the London Symphony. He later made a digital version with the
Vienna Philharmonic. All three were for Philips.
KURT MASUR
ONE OF THE positive aspects to working as a performing musician in com-

munist East Germany was that artists with the state-supported VEB
Deutsche Schallplatten could record almost anything they wished without
having to keep a vigilant eye on the bottom line. Though the regime's in-
herent conservatism placed any radically modern musical experimentation
off limits, Kurt Masur was able to record, along with the expected standard
repertoire items, some major projects of undoubted value during his long
and continuing tenure with the venerable Leipzig Gewandhaus: a massive
Liszt cycle, including all the tone poems, the oratorios, and the music for
piano and orchestra; Schumann's virtually unknown opera Genoveva; and a
multidisc exploration of Max Bruch's music for violin and orchestra.
When Germany was still divided, segments from Masur's vast discogra-
phy were licensed for released in the West through EMI, Philips, Teldec,
and Eurodisc. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall and his appointment to the
New York Philharmonic, Masur has continued his association, or forged
more direct ties, with most of these labels.
I interviewed Kurt Masur in July of 1982, when he conducted the
Cleveland Orchestra at Blossom. His comment about music banned by the
Nazis is interesting since no one else has recorded as much Mendelssohn as
he: all the early string symphonies, two cyclesofthe canonical five sympho-
nies, both oratorios St. Paul and Elijah, Die erste Walpurgisnacht, the piano
concerti, the Violin Concerto, and the incidental music to A Midsummer
Night's Dream. The possible second cycleof Beethoven symphonies to which
he briefly refers finally appeared in 1993 on Philips-the first recordings
based on the new critical editions of the scores published by C. F. Peters.
His stated desire to record a Prokofiev series and the complete symphonies
of Shostakovich has so far not been realized. J>'
33
34 RECORDI NG TH E CI. A~~ICS
To view this im age, p lease refer to the print version

of this b ook
Kurt M asur ill rehearsal. with the New York Philhar mo nic. Photo by Chris Lee. Co unesy of
t h", N",w Yo rk Philharmo nic.
BADAL: Maestro, you've only been in Cleveland once before; and yet, if you
were [0 talk with local music lovers, they would p robably know your
name. And I think t hat's because you've made so many records. Do you
have any thoughts about records as an aid to building your career or, in
the case of your orchestra the Leipzig Gewandha us, to making it better
known in the West?
MASUR: I must tell yo u one thing . Normall y I'm not the type [Q think of
building a career. I have only tried [Q be a good musician, and I am
always happy if people und erstand what I want to tell them, what I
th ink about and what I feel about these works I am conducting. For my
orchestra, it's anot her case, and in that case, you are right. Record ings
help a lot. Vou can say the same thin g about t he Cleveland O rchestra.
Cleveland is a beaut iful city, one of the most beauti ful places on Lake
Erie, but Cleveland is not a city in the cente r of th e world. But I think
for America, fo r th e United States, your orchestra has the richest rradi-
rion you can think of. Of course, I know t hat the New York Philhar-
monic is your oldest orchestra; but the Cleveland Orchestra under George
Szell and continuing with Maazel makes-
KURT MASUR 35
BADAL: And now with Dohnanyil

MASUR: And Dohnanyi, ofcourse, a very old, good friend of mine-makes
a part of the history of the United States, and I think a very important
part. And recordings help make the orchestra better known.
BADAL: Maestro, you are young enough to have grown up with recordings
available to you. Did recorded music play any role in your formative
musical education?
MASUR: The radio did, yes!When I was young, I listened very often to the
radio, and I must tell you, a few of the impressions I received I have
never forgotten in my whole life. I heard Bruno Walter's first perfor-
mance after the Second World War with Mozart's G Minor Symphony.
It must have been 1946. As I understand, he was in West Berlin, I think.
And this was one of the deepest impressions I ever received. And so I
started to try to find out what kind of person he was. Really, he led me
on my way even though I never could meet him. And then also at the
same time, there were very often transmissions from the open rehearsals
of the Boston Symphony under Charles Munch. They came over the
radio in West Germany, mostly for the American forces network. And
this was also very inspiring for me, because they played a lot ofpieces we
could never hear in the Nazi time, and this was another impression I
received.
BADAL: You know, you mention Bruno Walter. When he was eighty years
old, he was interviewed, and the subject of recordings came up. He said
one of the most important things about recordings was the historical
aspect. Do you consider the historical aspect ofrecordings very important?
MASUR: I think in one way, yes!You can listen to a lot ofrecordings and can
compare them with your own ideas about a work. And ifyou find a way,
if you think, "Oh, that's it! This is what I was always looking for, to do
this like that. I wanted to have the sound like this," then you can learn a
lot. But I must tell you, I always avoid hearing records just before I am
conducting a piece. There are a lot of young conductors who are trying
to copy great conductors, and they are starting not to be creative by
themselves. And that's a danger. There was a time when recordings were
not so dominating, when perfection was not so dominating. Only making
music. And then the spirit of the music and the mentality of the artist
came out. Then you can learn a lot about interpretation.
BADAL: Do you think the proliferation of recordings is destroying the
spirituality of music? Is there too much pursuit of perfection?
MASUR: There was more danger of this ten or fifteen years ago, when per-
fection was more dominating. Now you can notice that a lot of music
lovers are buying the recordings of Bruno Walter, of Toscanini, of
Furtwangler, of the old conductors, of the old pianists, ofthe old singers,
because they feel there is something here which they haven't had.
BADAL: What do you think is the greatest benefit recordings have?
MASUR: The greatest importance of recordings is that anybody who wants
to can play at home, at any time, a piece which he likes.
BADAL: Something which I just finished playing last night, and speaking of
Bruno Walter again, was Hans Pfitzner's Palestrina, which is almost never
performed in this country. Bruno Walter conducted the world premiere
in 1917, and the last letter he wrote in his life was to Frau Pfitzner. In that
letter he said that he thought Palestrina would survive, that it had all the
elements of greatness. And I thought, I would never have been able to
hear that work if it weren't for recordings.
MASUR: Yes, and we are very proud that we did the first recording of
Schumann's Genoveva. The opera!This is the same. And I think television
is also very important. You can send to anybody up in the hills who is
never able to come down to any city a concert, a great performance. He
can listen. He can take part. And this is a wonderful thing in our time.
BADAL: The world community of musical understanding.
MASUR: Yes, I think so.
BADAL: Let me get just a little philosophical. Music is an art that exists in
time. And if you were to conduct the same piece twice in a row, the
second performance would be different than the first. But the recorded
performance is always going to be the same. And I know there are some
musicians who are upset by that. Does that ever bother you?
MASUR: That's not a very nice feeling for an artist. As you know, you make
a recording, and before it comes out to the audience, you are really one
step beyond it. And you always get one of your recordings, listen to it
and think, "Oh my God! What did I do?" And I think for instrumentalists,
in a different way, it's even worse. I remember I had with David Oistrakh
a talk as he started to conduct. He said to me, "Dear Masur! I know I
will not be a great conductor. I only try to be as good a musician as I can
be. But as a violinist, I can never play better than I did on recordings." I
think, though, that everyone tries to go his own way. There are some
good results. As you know, Karajan now is in the position to say,"I want
to do this piece again, now!" And he does. But this is unique. Maybe
KURT MASUR 37
Solti can do something like this, too, but not more than three or four
conductors can. But I was very glad that in the opening of our new
Gewandhaus we could make the Ninth Symphony again, because, re-
ally, now it sounds so different from ten years ago.
BADAL: The Beethoven Ninth?
MASUR: Beethoven Ninth, yes.
BADAL: Are you going to do all the Beethoven symphonies again?
MASUR: Maybe yes! We have to start now because of digital recordings.
And I think this opportunity givesyou the possibility to show the audience
that you are growing up, and maybe people understand better what you
are trying to do.
BADAL: What do you feel are the greatest problems with recordings?
MASUR: Look, we talk about the recording always being the same. If you
have a recording which is really perfect, you can play it again and again,
but you feel the spirit doesn't change. It is not so painful for the listener
as for the artist himself. But ifyou have any faults on the recording, then
it is painful for the listener. You discover, "Oh, this is not together, and
this was not together, and this was not so perfect." And then it starts to
disturb you more and more because you expect it. And I think it is
difficult to do a performance on records which is alive and perfect at the
same time. I always tell my orchestra it is not enough to be perfect on
recordings. It must be like a live performance which will bring people up
from their seats.
BADAL: On a recording?
MASUR: Yes, on a recording.
BADAL: Do you find it difficult to work in the studio?
MASUR: No! No! I think we have a very good situation. If a recording is not
finished, we continue it later. It's not a question of money and time. If
we find out that we are not able to do a piece very well, so let's go, and
next time we come together, try it again.
BADAL: Do you like the principle of the long take?
MASUR: I like it. I like it very, very much. Recording can make an orchestra
very, very dead, and yourself also. So let the music go! And then very
often we repeat small places, only to make ... to repair it. Nothing else.
BADAL: As you look back at the recordings you have made, which ones are
you the most proud of?
MASUR: I must tell you, I think I'm always in the kind of mood in which I
would tell you I want to do it again and better. I never will be proud of
a single result. I'm proud that, with my orchestra, we could grow, work-
ing together with a recording company. And that's a result I'm proud of,
but that's a result of twelve years.
BADAL: Are there some things you would like to record that you haven't had
the chance to record yet?
MASUR: Yes. We ended with Liszt. We are now starting the whole works of
Prokofiev. And then we will start the whole symphonies, and maybe the
whole works, of T chaikovsky. And then I would like to do all the
symphonies of Shostakovich because I was a very close friend to him.
And I think the Gewandhaus was the only orchestra in the world which
did a cycle of his symphonies within two seasons. He was very glad
about it.
BADAL: Do you like making recordings? Do you like the process?
MASUR: I don't hate it. I don't hate it. I must tell you that if I am able to
concentrate on the work as I would in a concert, the microphones don't
disturb me. They are not disturbing to me.
BADAL: Why do you suppose the older generation of conductors hated
making records so much? I mean men like Toscanini, Furrwangler,
Klemperer, Walter. You know, they hated the process, and they hated
the results.
MASUR: Of course. Because they had the feeling that their concerts were
much more perfect than they were. It is a very, very true story that
Furrwangler, as he listened to his first recordings, went away and was not
able to listen anymore because he found them so bad. It wasn't together.
It was not perfect. It was not in the right tempo. So he discovered his
own faults. It was a bad surprise. But our generation now knows this
about listening to our own recordings, and we expect it. And I think also
that orchestras are better trained today, a little bit more perfect than the
orchestras before.
BADAL: Let me ask you a question about orchestras. Thirty or forty years
ago, orchestras seemed to have very different national characteristics.
This doesn't seem to be quite so true anymore, with the exception of the
Vienna Philharmonic and the Leipzig Gewandhaus. Do you think
recordings have had anything to do with that?
MASUR: I don't think so. There is a different danger. Ofcourse, if you would
like to have the best musicians of the world and you have enough money
to pay anybody. You start to build an orchestra, and somebody is coming
from China, some from Japan, some from Germany, and so. You can
KURT MASUR 39
build a fantastic orchestra, but this will be an international sound. You

will never have the kind of individual profile, the special sound! And the
secret of these old, traditional European orchestras is that they have their
own schools. So Mendelssohn founded, more than 130 years ago, the
high school for music in Leipzig. And still we get our members-more
than 85percent of our members in the Gewandhaus Orchestra are from
this school. And it is not only the bad points-as Gustav Mahler said,
"Schlamperei ist die Tradition"-but it is also, for our time, a kind of
stability, of steadiness in an orchestra because you can feel this special
old, traditional, maybe old-fashioned sound. And I think one should
listen to these few orchestras because they are important in finding out
what kind of sound Brahms must have, and Bruckner!
BADAL: Because of this traditional sound in an orchestra like the Leipzig
Gewandhaus, would you be reluctant to record something like a Verdi
opera?
MASUR: I would try to avoid it, yes. Of course, generally the orchestra plays
everything. We also did a recording of works of Gershwin.
BADAL: I didn't know that.
MASUR: Yes, yes, we did. And we enjoyed it very much. I think it is not so
bad, but still you hear the sound of the Gewandhaus. And our orchestra
plays every evening at the opera, also Verdi. But it's another sound. It's
another style. It's the Gewandhaus style.
BADAL: Do you listen to records?
MASUR: I do listen to records. But I must tell you one thing. I listen only to
two kinds of records: very strange ones, jokes about classical music.
BADAL: The Hoffnung Festival?
MASUR: Hoffnung, yes. I like them. I have a lot of the Portrnouth Symphony.
I don't know if you know it. This is the kind of happening that I
sometimes like very much. On the other hand, I listen to records of
traditional-the recordings of Arthur Nikisch. I have a lot of the
recordings of Furtwangler, of Bruno Walter, ofToscanini. And I always
try to compare their styles and to find out why they went to this style.
Because Toscanini's Brahms is so different from Bruno Walter's, and
Bruno Walter's Brahms with American orchestras is different than with
the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. This is very interesting for me.
These records I listen to very much.
BADAL: What do you think of digital sound? Do you like it?
MASUR: Yes and no! I think we are still on the way with digital sound. I
think it is at the moment a little bit dangerous to have this presence of

sound, this kind of direct sound, naked sound, which makes a listener
hear things he could never hear in the hall.
BADAL: Erich Leinsdorf tells a story in his book The Composer's Advocate
about a man who listens to a lot of records, goes to a live concert, and
doesn't like it because it doesn't sound like his stereo.
MASUR: Yes, yes, he's absolutely right. And I try in our recordings, together
with the technical members ofthe crew, to avoid giving people a different
kind of sound than they could expect in a concert hall.
BADAL: But still a good sound.
MASUR: Still a good sound. But still we try to bring out things which are
not well heard in a concert hall. But I always tell any technical man,
"Please, I want to hear on record what I am hearing when I stand in
front of the orchestra."
BADAL: Do you see danger with the increased application of technology to
music?
MASUR: If somebody tells me, "Close your eyes," and the sound from a
stereo is as natural as that you could imagine if someone were in front of
you making music, then I say that's the highest point we can reach. But
very often you have a stereo set which makes a sound you never can hear
from any instrument, you never can hear in any hall. And that's a dan-
ger, especially for our young people. They go into a disco, and they are
used to hearing this sound. And then they are coming in to hear the-
BADAL: Electronic sound.
MASUR: Electronic sound! And then they are coming to hear the Bolero of
Ravel and it is not disturbing for them because it is not enough. It is not
enough. If! am at home, I like to play chamber music. I like to play very
often on a clavichord. The sound is so small and so nice, and I have to
listen very carefully so I can hear. And I always try to get to a point
where I am able to hear whispering. If I am at home and I am listening
to a fantastic stereo, maybe not only stereo but quadraphonic sound,
and my ears are full ofsound, it may be I feel like I have taken a wonderful
drug, and I am very high. But if I am high, I am losing control, and I
never will have a spiritual impression. And that's a danger because I think
music is the kind of art which is able to fill your body, your heart, your
soul, and your spirit.
ANTAL DORATI
IN HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY Notes ofSeven Decades, Antal Dorati dismisses the

often repeated assertion that he is the world's most recorded conductor as
a typical bit ofexaggerated public relations. Though Karajan and Bernstein
probably surpass him in sheer numbers of discs, Dorati has indeed left a
recorded legacy that remains impressive in size and scope.
During the fifties and sixties, the bulk of his recordings appeared in the
United States on Mercury; in the seventies, he shifted most of his studio
activity over to the London label, for which he produced such noteworthy
items as the complete orchestral music of Kodaly with the Philharmonia
Hungarica and all the Tchaikovsky tone poems with the National Sym-
phony Orchestra of Washington, D.C. As music director of the Detroit
Symphony, he performed and recorded Richard Strauss's rarely heard Die
Agyptische Helena. Though a flawed performance of a seriously flawed op-
era, the set remains a souvenir of historical and sentimental value since
Dorati had served as Fritz Busch's assistant at the work's 1928 Dresden
premIere.
Of all the recordings Dorati made throughout his long career, however,
none approach the significiance of his Haydn project, a massive undertak-
ing, split between London and Philips, that occupied him for well over a
decade. He had to peddle his plan to record all the symphonies to two
other labels before London agreed to the huge, financially risky undertak-
ing. When the three-year project reached completion in 1973, it sparked a
virtual renaissance of interest in the little-known early Haydn symphonies
among other labels and conductors. Unfortunately, the equally significant
and superlatively performed series of operas for Philips ground to a halt
after eight works: approximately half, including the marionette operas, of
Haydn's surviving output for the stage.
For a while it looked as if my interview with Dorati would not take
place. Appearing with the Cleveland Orchestra in September 1982, Dorati
41
41 RECOROING TH £ C L ASSICS
failed to show up in the con ductor's offi ce in Severance Hall at the a p~

pointed time, nor was he anywhere else in t he building. Sudde nly he strode
vigorously into the office, flashed a magnificent smile, and apologized for
h is tardiness, explaining that he had taken advan tage of t he beauti ful fall
day and gone for a morning walk. .......
To vi ew this image, please refer t o th e print ver sion

of this book
Antal Do rari. Photo by Peter Hasnngs

ANTAL DORAn 43
BADAL: Maestro, of all the recordings you have made in your career, I sup-
pose most collectors would associate you with that monumental project
of all the Haydn symphonies. Did that take a lot of preparation on your
part?
DORATI: Oh, yes. Because I didn't record these symphonies, for instance, as
Haydn wrote them, one after the other-just waiting until God gave
him an idea and then just writing it down. I had to do them upside-
down and every which way. We started with the Symphony No. 56.That
was the first one I put on tape. I had to be absolutely clear in my mind
where that symphony belongs in the big scheme-what went before,
what came after. To record the Beethoven nine symphonies, of course, is
a wonderful thing. But every one of us grew up with them from our very
childhood. If we record the Sixth, we very well know how it fits in be-
tween the First and the Ninth. But with these hundred . . . . There's
actually material for 110 symphonies in this set, with all the extra move-
ments and all the variants of symphonies. Now then, how else can one
go about it except to make a tremendous study of the whole thing?
BADAL: But you actually planned, as I remember, how many sessions would
be involved, how long each one would take.
DORATI: Approximately! We know the sessions in Europe are three hours.
They are all three hours.
BADAL: Did you feel it was necessary to make this kind of preparation before
you approached a record company?
DORATI: Yes, absolutely. Because the plan was so big that if they had been
confronted with this rock, let us say, this block of marble, they would
have been scared of it. And so I had to make a statue from the marble
first and show them. "Here it is, that's what we wand"
BADAL: You said in your book that Decca was the third company you had
approached. I
DORATI: Second. I think so. The book is correct; I don't remember.

BADAL: I'm just curious what kind of reasons the first companies gave for
not going ahead with the project.
DORATI: Too big! Too complicated! No sales! Not popular enough.
BADAL: Good old-fashioned commercialism.
DORATI: That's right, that's right.
BADAL: Maestro, the fact that you would devote that much time and energy
to such an incredibly massive project says to me that you really must
believe recordings have a great deal of value.
DORATI: Recordings have a great deal of value, indeed yes. But not prima-
rily in the sense which most people believe. What is important is that it
is set down that in the seventies the Beethoven symphonies, by the finest
artists of the epoch and the finest orchestras, were played like this.
Beethoven's piano sonatas by the finest pianists ofthat decade, were played
like this.
BADAL: So you would stress the historical importance of recordings?
DORATI: Yes! And also important is that less famous works be recorded,
you know. The word "record" has two meanings. It means the disc which
turns, and it means the record like of a marriage or a birth. Actually, the
score of a piece is rather dead material. It is only good for us musicians,
and we have to reviveit. Whereas the sounding record is a living document
of the result of the score. And I think it is important that records are
there for general use. The fact that in your public library in Cleveland
there are the complete works of Shakespeare is not important because
other writers and other dramatists can see how Shakespeare wrote his
plays; it is important because they are there, and everyone can see how
Shakespeare wrote. Everyone can! And it will be very interesting to see
how-already it is interesting to see how the same piece was played fifty
years ago. And some of these records are good; some of them are
impossible. I have heard performances on record which today are being
rejected, and justly so. But at that time they were justified, and they were
the best.
BADAL: Maestro, the generation of conductors to which you belong was
really the first one to embrace recording. The generation before had their
doubts about recordings. They hated the process, and they hated the
results. What do you think happened to bring about this change of
attitude?
DORATI: The only things which really count are the advent of the long-
playing record and the advent of tape. You know, it was really hateful to
have only four-and-a-half minutes of music, and then you had to stop,
and then start again for the next segment, you know. And it was very
difficult to give any continuity to a longer piece, a two-hour piece. And
then, ofcourse, the record was a rarity. It was not the rampant thing as it
IS now.
BADAL: Music is an art that exists in time. If you were to conduct the same
piece twice in a row, the performances would be different.
DORATI: And that's what makes it a great art. And there I point out the
ANTAL DORAn 45
great danger of records. The danger of the record is that it catches a

moment's expression and eternalizes it in a way which shouldn't be. It is
like a photograph which catches a person in a moment, and if you don't
know that person, then that moment is a falseimpression. In an aphorism
you could say that an immovable smile is a grimace.
BADAL: One of the books on Mahler that is currently available has a picture
of him smiling. You don't usually see photographs of Mahler smiling,
and it was a picture like it that his daughter once picked as the one that
looked the most like him. She said, "This is the man that I remember."
DORATI: Yes, but she had, ofcourse, the advantage, we might say, ofknowing
many of his faces. If someone only knew Mahler from that smile, he
might think, "That's a hydrocephalic, that's a stupid man," you know. I
went through this. I once went to visit a country in the New World, in
South America. It was Colombia, where the orchestral culture was very,
very little. Nevertheless, I went there, and I conducted. It was very
interesting. I was a young man, and it was a very interesting experience.
And I met music lovers in the country. These were mostly refugees from
Europe, from the Hitlerian regime. And they were very, very poor.
Nevertheless, they liked their music, and they liked to listen to it. They
had records, and they made a record club. Then they came together and
gave themselves recorded concerts twice a week or so. But they didn't
have duplicates; they had only one recording of each work. I visited
them, I talked to them. I found, to my horror, that they didn't know the
music; they knew one interpretation, one rendition of that music---one
rendition of the music, not the music itself And what is interesting in
music is that it is performed in several ways. I suppose it starts when a
composer performs his music, his own work. He ceases to be a composer
and becomes a performer with the same rights and same duties as any
other performer. Naturally, he will always change. There will be no two
performances alike. Even ifwe are convinced ofa piece and should want
him to make his performances alike, he will never succeed one hundred
percent.
BADAL: You can tell this with musicians who have recorded the same piece
more than once. There are tremendous differences sometimes.
DORATI: Oh yes, oh yes! Sometimes these changes are justified. Sometimes
they are just whims. These, then, are not to be justified, these are not to
be condoned. But if it is an evolution of penetration into the work's
spirit, then it is justified; and if it is an evolution of one's own personality,
then that's also justified. Here we come to the eternal question: how
much should a performer inject his own person into the work he per-
forms? A silly question! Because he cannot help but inject himself. The
question should be asked this way: how much can the performer inject
of the creator's intention? And he should try to inject the most, because
his person, small man that he is, or woman, is an element he cannot
eliminate. I should love to be Beethoven if I conduct the Symphony
NO.7. But I never .... So even with my greatest ability, if! could have
one iota of Beethoven's spirit, then already that's something. If I could
have two moments of Beethoven's own spirit, it's much better. If! could
have three, well . . . .
BADAL: There are people who would say that it is much easier to project
that spirit during a concert than when you are making a recording.
DORATI: No, I would not say that it is so. But it requires a different phi-
losophy, a different approach. When I am at a concert, I put my physi-
cal presence into the battle, so to say. It's not a battle, but I put my being
there. Willy-nilly, my presence will exert some influence upon the hearer.
Because I exert some influence on my colleagues, the performers, evi-
dently it's something which gets to the hearer also. Although one should
never try. That's another chapter of the conductor's life which we will
have to have another interview for. So when I make a record, I am in fact
obliged to make an extra effort to get even closer to the composer be-
cause when the record is played, I won't be there. Not only will the
composer himself be absent, but I'll be absent as well.
BADAL: Anyone who listens to a lot of records very quickly learns that certain
kinds of performances don't repeat well. My favorite examples are tapes
oflive Purrwangler performances. The first time you hear them, they are
the most exciting things you can imagine. But the qualities that make
them so exciting don't seem to repeat well.
DORAn: I believe you. Of course, I can't say. I haven't had the same
experience. I have never had such experiences because I listen to very
few records. I simply haven't got the time to listen to many records. But
there are those personal things which are ephemeral, which are fleeting.
Art altogether is a free expression of human beings, and there are no
rules. I can't say what is the right way of making art. It's everybody's ...
matter of his own conscience between himself and his God.
BADAL: You say in your book that you made your first recordings in 1936.
DORAn: Something like that, yes.
ANTAL DORATI 47
BADAL: Do you remember the sessions at all?

DORATI: Oh, yes, very well.
BADAL: Do you remember what you recorded?
DORATI: Oh, yes. It was all ballet music which the Ballets Russes de Monte
Carlo played at Covent Garden. And it was the London Philharmonic
Orchestra. We went from the performances into the recording studio. It
was LeBeau Danube by Johann Strauss. It was the Sheherazade by Rimsky-
Korsakov. Ofcourse, it was not ballet music; but it was danced to. It was
]eux d'enfants by Bizet. It was the Polovetsian Dances by Borodin. It was
Stravinsky's Baiser de fa Fie.
BADAL: All of that in those first sessions?
DORATI: Well, I'm telling you. We took as many sessions as were needed.
Those were the first records, those half-dozen records.
BADAL: Do you like to make records? You've made so many.
DORATI: Oh, yes, yes! The quantity of my recordings shows that I enjoy it.
Because if it were a tremendous sacrifice, then I wouldn't do it.
BADAL: What do you think of digital technology, Maestro?
DORATI: Well, recording began with the very primitive invention ofEdison's,
as you know. And I know you've heard how scratchy they sound. Then
they made it somewhat better. Then records really sounded like music
or speech. Then they made them even better. The humming was there,
but not so much. Then carne the long-playing record, which was a great
advance. Now comes the digital record, which is even better. Now comes
the compact disc which has made its appearance. I haven't heard them
yet, but on my next appearance in Amsterdam the company promised
to show them to me. So I will hear them then. This is almost like real
music.
BADAL: All these developments in recording technology that you've
mentioned took place during your lifetime, except, of course, the
invention of recording itself
DORATI: Yes, that was earlier. Indeed, I began with the 78s.
BADAL: Media theorists say that people tend to accept the level of technol-
ogy they are born into but tend to regard further development as a
danger.
DORATI: Not us who record! Certainly not the artists who participate in
recordings.
BADAL: You've made so many records, and I saw that Beethoven series you
made with the Detroit Symphony for PBS. So you are obviously
comfortable with all the various technologies. Do you see any danger to
music from the increased application of all this technology?
DORATI: Oh, no, I don't see any danger at all. I think it serves music. How-
ever, everything, you know, has a backwash. To everything there are dis-
advantages. Now, you could argue that while this tremendous mass of
new listeners who are arriving to our kind offine music is an advantage,
the superficial knowledge of this music is some kind of danger.
BADAL: The sort of thing you mentioned earlier about only knowing one
rendition of a piece rather than the music itself
DORATI: That, I would say, is a danger, but it is a danger I would willingly
undertake for the ultimate gain. It is the same thing as with the discovery
of America. Don't you think that was a danger to discover all this new
territory?
BADAL: Sure!
DORATI: Well, and aren't you happy that someone faced that danger?
BADAL: I'm glad they did, yes. What do you think are the benefits to music
from recordings?
DORATI: There are two benefits. And I do not say that recording is a bless-
ing. No! And I do not go on my knees to thank God that recording has
arrived. No! Music would be just as interesting, beautiful, and deep with-
out recordings. But here they are, here we have them, and they have
advantages. The advantages are twofold: there are more people listening
to music than before, and there are documents. I'm using "record" now
in the other sense. There are documents of sounding music-not only
printed music, not only music which is written down. Those are the two
advantages.
BADAL: We can hear the repertoire that has been put on records.
DORATI: Actually, yes. Before recording you could go into a library, a public
library, and there are all the scores. These were of value to only a select
minority, namely very good musicians who could read all this stuff. Now
you can go into a public library, a record library, and get everything
from Vivaldi to Penderecki and listen with your own ears without hav-
ing to learn anything.
Note
1. Notes ofSeuen Decades, rev. ed. (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1981).
ERICH LEINSDORF
IN ONE SENSE, Erich Leinsdorfhad a rather strange career in the recording

studios. During the 1950S, 1960s, and into the 1970s, he recorded frequently,
building up a discography impressive in both size and diversity. He was
virtually the house opera conductor for RCA and recorded a full complement
of standard repertoire items by Wagner, Strauss, Mozart, Verdi, Puccini,
and (rare for an Austrian-born conductor) Rossini, as well as novelties such
as Korngold's Die tote Stadt. As music director of the Boston Symphony
from 1962 to 1969, he recorded not only such standard fare as Beethoven
and Brahms symphony cycles but works by Berg and Ginastera. And then
suddenly-around the turn of the decade between the seventies and
eighties-the entire industry seemed to lose interest in him, and one of the
most prolific voices in the studio fell silent, though he remained very active
in the concert hall.
Leinsdorfhad been music director of the Cleveland Orchestra for a brief
period in the mid-roaos, and after Maazel's departure he appeared regularly
with the ensemble to provide a sense ofcontinuity until Dohnanyi's arrival.
Our interview took place in November 1982following a morning rehearsal.
Things must have gone well, for the talkative maestro was clearly in a relaxed
and jovial mood. Brandishing a cigar oftrue Churchillian majesty, he veered
from combativeness to thoughtful reflection, from good-humored com-
mentary to rigorously learned analysis, with awesome dexterity. J>'
BADAL: Do you remember your first recording session?

LEINSDORF: Vaguely! I think the first time I recorded was as a piano accom-
panist for a singer who sang Hugo Wolf songs. But I cannot with assur-
ance pinpoint-it must have been in the middle 1930s.
BADAL: When you made those first recordings, Maestro, what sort of role
did recordings play in people's lives?
49
50 REC O R D IN G THE C LA SS ICS

of this book
Erich Leinsdorf in rehearsal with the Cleveland Orchesna. Photo by Peter H""rings.
L EI NSDO RF: It was a wondrous thing. In Vienna we had a publi c place

where there is now a very elegant sort of food depa rtment store, and
there was a salon with booths where you could go and listen to record-
ings. They were like the machine s wh ich you have today in bars where
people put coins into- '
B ADAL: Ju kebox.
LEi NSDO RF : Jukeboxes, yes!And there was an entire repertoire ofplaners of
whatever they had , and for the money you put in, you selected what you
wanted to hear. I would say that th e major attractions were the great
singers wirh arias and Lieder. T hat is certainly the way I got familiar
with the great singers: by going to this salon and listen ing to their voices.
BADAL: You know, in both your books Cadenza and The ComposersAdoocate,
one of which I read with a great deal of pleasure and th e other with a
great deal of interest-
LEI NSDO RF: T hank you.
ERICH LEINSDORF 51
BADAL: -you speak about records and recording companies, and some-
times rather harshly, And yet there are few conductors who have made as
many records as you have. And so would it be safe to assume that, in
spite of the difficulties inherent in the medium, you think recordings
have value?
LEINSDORF: Recordings have enormous value; and it's very good of you to
ask me these questions, because one can never be explicit enough. I think
recordings are an almost unmitigated blessing for the public, for the
music lover, but they have been abused by the professional. And my
caution against using records for study is, of course, the basis of my
second book which you so kindly mentioned before. I believe that the
professional-the performer-be it a pianist or a conductor or a guitarist
or whatnot-should study with the composer from the score and not
with other performers from recordings. If a person ... What I am telling
you now is an improvised comparison which is not a good one.
BADAL: Sometimes improvisations work the best.
LEINSDORF: Well, let's see if it sits as any kind of good comparison. I, as a
reader and layman of the literary world, read book reviews with the
greatest of pleasure. I have several subscriptions to book reviews. Since
one can't read all books, one might as well read the reviews of the
important books which interest one. If! were a book reviewer, I should
not read other reviews before reviewing a book myself Because the critic,
the book critic, should interpret a book for the person who reads the
review. So if! want to interpret a book, I should not read another person's
interpretation of the book. I should read the book myself and then write
my review.
BADAL: What you are saying then is that one of the great dangers for a
young musician with recordings is that the urge is going to be to imitate
what he hears on a recording and not look closely at the score.
LEINSDORF: Or be hell-bent to do the opposite! And you cannot hear
everything on recordings. You miss things. And you don't know under
what circumstances records have been made. There have been many re-
cordings which were issued, even from the most independent recording
artists, which should never have been issued.
BADAL: I think I have some of those in my collection.
LEINSDORF: I'm sure! We all do. We all do. And I know how it goes. There
are pressures brought to bear which of course one never admits publicly.
But there are pressures, and one sometimes OK's something that one
shouldn't have OK'd. So for all these reasons, technical and philosophi-
cal! But the main reason is it should not be another interpreter who
leads a young conductor to the composer, whoever the composer is. My
discontent with the record companies is centered around one single is-
sue: that the major companies are unwilling, and have always been un-
willing no matter if they were in prosperity or in distress, to record a
work for the first time.
BADAL: I remember the difficulty you said you had in recording Mozart
and Haydn with the Boston Symphony.
LEINSDORF: That was a matter of the master contract between the associa-
tion and the union. That is a different thing, and that I really cannot
charge to the record companies. That is a matter ofcollective bargaining
which has never been successfully resolved with respect to the big or-
chestras, and that I certainly cannot charge against any record company.
What I charge them with is this: lack of confidence in doing something
for the first time. And there I have a very nice story. There was in Austria
some sort of a decrepit aristocrat, Count Bobbie, of whom many stories
are told. And one day a man comes to him and says, "Count, I'm a profes-
sional marriage broker, and I have a very nice young lady for you to
marry. She is about twenty-one, pretty as a picture, very wealthy, from a
good family, and a guaranteed virgin."
And the count says, "You know very well, my good man, that I need
money, so a rich marriage is very welcome. The good family is also im-
portant. I could not come home to my family with anybody who was
not from a good family. That she is pretty helps. The age is fine. But I
won't take her because she is a virgin."
And the marriage broker says, "But Count! This is the rarest item you
can find today."
And the count says, "That's exactly it. One whom no one has wanted
before me, I don't want either."
And this is the story of the record companies when one comes to
them with a work which nobody else has recorded. They don't want it
either. They don't want virgins. They want the same works which have
been recorded before, because I have tried without the slightest success
to interest record companies in some very stunning and epoch-making
works and haven't had any bite at all.
BADAL: Such as?
LEINSDORF: Such as the Faust of Schumann! Such as the complete Le bour-
ERICH LEINSDORF 53
geois gentilhomme of Strauss with narration! There are a variety of things

which could really be great record productions, and nobody is inter-
ested.
BADAL: When Bruno Walter was eighty, he gave an interview in which he
stressed the historical importance of recordings. Is this aspect of record-
ing important to you?
LEINSDORF: Yes, ofcourse!I think it is an important thing that performances
can be recorded, and I think they will be as important as historical records
are in old baptisteries where people go to find birth certificates. I read a
fascinating story last Sunday about Sigmund Freud and his father's
remarriage. These records were only to be found in Germany where his
father lived, you know, in the synagogue in the archives. So records of
the past are very interesting. If they are as accurate as we want them to
be, I doubt very much. For instance, we have today facsimiles of the
great composers' works. More are being issued, and I buy them up
whenever they appear. But what the editors of the printed versions have
done with these facsimiles! They have printed every slip of the pen which
the composer made writing the music down. Youknow, even the greatest
composer can make a writing error. And they did.
BADAL: Or make a blot on the paper.
LEINSDORF: Yes, and the quill may drain, you know; and sometimes I know
that Beethoven's quill made a little spot and that people took this for
either a note or some metronome marking. And I've seen these cases, so
I'm a little bit skeptical. I think our imagination and our knowledge are
a better guide and will lead us better into the past than too many records.
BADAL: Well, to me, the fact that I can hear Arthur Nikischs Beethoven
Fifth made in 1913, as awful as it sounds, the fact that I can hear him
conduct anything at all-
LEINSDORF: Yes, but do you really know how he did it then?
BADAL: No, not really. I've nothing but an indication of tempo at best.
LEINSDORF: Yes, but this is only half the battle. Today if somebody imitated
the tempi in a different context, they may be all wrong. Or the pitch
may be all wrong. I'm not quibbling. I would love to have a record of
Nikisch because I've not the foggiest notion of what he did. You are
perfectly right. It is a fascinating-the ear equivalent of a glimpse, you
know. I understand your fascination. Yousee, I have every good thing to
say about recordings for the public. And of course, I think if people live
away from the music centers-for instance, how many people live in
cities where they can hear the great operas? So one day the video tapes
will be in the same position as recording. People will buy the video tapes
of operas, and they will get an idea of what the staging looked like. If
they live in Idaho or the wilds of Arkansas, they will be able to get the
great opera performances.
BADAL: You know, an actor who has been trained on the stage will tell you
that when you start acting for the movies, it involves more than making
a few practical adjustments. You really have to sit down and come to
some aesthetic understanding of how one medium is different from the
other. Is it the same for a conductor going from the concert hall to the
recording studio?
LEINSDORF: Totally, totally, totally! It is the same thing. You see, your entire
projection is different. Let us say that at the utmost extreme, you go into
a very large hall which we encounter sometimes in touring-we get halls
which sit six-, seven-, eight-thousand people-of course, your projec-
tion is one way. But when you project into a microphone which is a few
feet away, your projection is entirely different. It is an intimate medium;
and that, of course, allows for things which are different-compels you
to be different in your approach.
BADAL: Music is an art that exists in time, and were you to conduct the
same piece twice in a row, the second performance would be different
from the first.
LEINSDORF: Definitely!
BADAL: But the recording is always going to be the same. I know there are
some musicians who are disturbed by that.
LEINSDORF: There's no sense being disturbed. It is why I don't think that a
recording can ever be anything more than a single performance. The
recording is a performance, one performance of a work. And this is one
of the reasons, this fact that a recording is only one performance which
doesn't change, that I warn all young musicians not to study with
recordings. You have served the perfect example.
BADAL: You and the members of your generation are really the first to em-
brace recordings. You take the generation ofconductors before that, and
they hated the process, and they hated the results.
LEINSDORF: Well, first of all, it was unbelievably difficult to do the four-
minute, twenty-second bit when we worked with 78s. I made the first
microgroove for RCA, the first long-play record in 1948, and I know the
relief which we all felt. And then of course, when taping came in, you
ERICH LEINSDORF 55
could splice. I made a few years ago a direct-to-disc recording which

again brought back all the nervous tension of the old days.' I liked it
very much for another reason. I liked the direct-to-disc because nobody
can change your balances, you see. What you hear at the playback, that
is the balance which nobody is going to change. I had enormous trouble
with the people who went back from Boston to RCA and then doctored
balances, particularly when RCA came out with this disastrous-what
did they call it-Dynagroove, which was an unmitigated disaster. They
ruined some of our records. Once in a while now when I get to Europe,
people tell me that they get new pressingsofsome ofthese recordingswhich
some other companies have made, and they're totally different records be-
cause they don't have this squashed-together dynamic range.
BADAL: How do you feel about digital?
LEINSDORF: I like it, I like it. I think they are constantly making techno-
logical improvements; and certainly we have nothing but improvements
ahead of us, I'm quite sure. For instance, I got a pair ofspeakers recently
from a friend of mine, who is behind the manufacture of these speakers,
which are really tremendous. And all this I think is wonderful. When
people have their own sound equipment! Also, the standard of the lis-
tener is going to be very much improved, because he will know what a
first-classperformance is, especially people who live in places where they
don't have a first-class orchestra or where they don't have an opera com-
pany. I think it should raise the standards of the public. As I said, for the
public, I think it is all to the good.
BADAL: Anyone who listens to a lot ofrecords very quickly learns that certain
kinds of performances don't repeat well while others do. For example, a
live taping of a Furtwangler concert: the first time you hear it, it is the
most dynamic thing you've ever heard, but the qualities that make it so
dynamic don't repeat very well.
LEINSDORF: Let us face it. The vagaries don't repeat very well. It is as simple
as that. I grew up with Furtwangler and can vouch for the enormous,
grand tension and excitement which his every appearance created. But
we were fully aware, with all our boundless admiration, that this was not
the only way to do Beethoven or Brahms. As a matter of fact, it was
highly, what should we say ... the word "unorthodox" would not bother
me . . . but it was something which was entirely bound up with the
moment. It would be like a type of oratorical style that maybe William
Jennings Bryan had enormous successwith, but today if a contemporary
politician should use that kind of oratory, it would not sit very welL I
think that the style of Furrwangler was born out of a-
BADAL: It came down from Wagner, didn't it?
LEINSDORF: Well, I suppose so. But of course, there are things which
Furrwangler did, even objectively speaking, better than anyone else, and
they were not the kinds of things he was famous for. For instance, I find
that he is the only conductor of whom I know who did the Marriage of
Figaro overture correctly. Yes, he's the only one who did not go to the
Indianapolis racetrack with that piece. No, you open here a tremendous
can ofworms with this question. There arc pieces ofwhich you get tired
of, too, and other pieces you don't get tired of. This is really-this goes
through the whole of music. There are people who wear well and people
who don't wear welLAnd sometimes some ofthe most fascinating people
don't wear well. There are performances which don't wear well. And this
is really what you are bringing forth with some of these recordings you
have.
BADAL: While we are talking about Furtwangler: one ofthe musical examples
you discuss in The Composer's Advocate is the final presto in the last
movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. I remember in the book
you said when Walter and Furrwangler were alive, you didn't know the
proper question to ask as to why they played it the way they did. And
when you knew the question, they weren't around to ask. Now when I
read that passage, I played my Furtwangler and Walter recordings. There
are still people who play it that way.
LEINSDORF: Oh, of course, of course. I remember, a friend of mine who is
a musician spoke to Karajan when they did the Ninth Symphony. He
asked him, "Tell me, have you read what Leinsdorf wrote?" Karajan had
very nice things to say about the book; but at the end of the Ninth, I'm
sure he does it the same way.
BADAL: The way he has always done the end.
LEINSDORF: I suppose. I cannot vouch for that. This example appeared in a
short German essayoffifty-nine pages. It's reallythe way I started writing
about these subjects. You see, there is no doubt about it. Taking the
maestoso slowly as I've heard it all my life since I was a boy is wrong.
There are no two ways about it. This is wrong. I mean, we are not here
in the realm of individual liberty. I'm all in favor of, in fact, I want
people to study with the composer so they should develop their own
ways of reading the composer-which will mean that everyone will read
the composer somewhat differently. But when something is wrong, it's
ERICH LEINSDORF 57
wrong. And this is wrong. As I've analyzed it, you have three different
proofs in the score. So here we are in the realm of a custom which is just
a total error.
BADAL: And yet these recordings exist, and both men are highly respected.
LE1NSDORF: Of course!
BADAL: The recordings are classics.
LE1NSDORF: Ofcourse! Winston Churchill was certainly not only respected
but beloved and revered. And rightly so. But in 1914or whenever it was,
I think he was first lord of the admiralty then, he advocated a disaster at
Gallipoli which wiped out I don't know how many British troops. It was
an absolute, total abortive effort. Well, he's still a great man.
BADAL: But in your book, you advocate going back to the score; and doesn't
the existence, the mere existence of those Walter and Furrwangler records
lend a certain credibility to that misreading?
LE1NSDORF: Well, this is exactly why I wrote the book! To say, don't take a
great man's vagaries for the truth because he was a great man. You see, if
a conductor had never listened to the Furrwangler-Walter version of the
end ofthe Ninth, I think any normal musician reading Beethoven should
come to the same conclusion which the score presents, as I've said, in
triple proof. And then of course, people assume that because someone is
successful that he is always right. Now, this is our misevaluation ofsuccess.
A successful person can be just as wrong, at times, as an unsuccessful
person.
BADAL: Or as an unsuccessful person can be right.
LE1NSDORF: Yes, yes. You see, the element of success in any field is not
necessarily always a direct indication of their being right or wrong.
BADAL: Do you listen to records?
LE1NSDORF: I do not. Well, for pleasure I listen to records, but certainly not
in any reference to the work I'm doing.
BADAL: What would you listen to?
LEINSDORF: If somebody gives me a Lieder recital of Richard Tauber, I
would listen with the greatest of joy because it would be a great treat for
me. Or a recording of Pablo Casals playing the cello! I would adore
listening to that because it would be an enjoyment, a benefit, and so on
and so forth.
BADAL: Media theorists say that people tend to accept the level oftechnology
they are born into but regard all successive developments as dangerous.
Do you see danger in the increased application of technology to music,
or do you see a benefit?
LEINSDORF: The entire question goes right back to our seeming difficulties
in making the best of the various industrial revolutions through which
we live. Human beings have an infinite capacity of abusing what could
be an unmitigated benefit. It is the same with all our technological ad-
vances. They can be of benefit and are much benefit; they can be abused,
and they are much abused. Look at the airplane! How great it is to be
able to go to California in five hours instead of three nights and two days
as I had to do when I came to this country. But people abuse it. People
abuse the airplane by overtiring themselves by flying too much-in my
profession, certainly, and other professions as well. We human beings
have the capacity of using technology for the best for our human race,
and we have the capacity of abusing it. And we do both.
Notes
I.Cadenza: A MusicalCareer (Boston: Houghron Mifflin, 1976), and The Composer's Advocate: A
RadicalOrthodoxy fir Musicians (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1981).
2. Actually there were two discs recorded for Sheffield Lab: a Wagner collection and excerpts from
Prokofiev's Romeo and]uliet.
CHRISTOPH VON DOHNANYI
BEFORE CHRISTOPH VON DOHNANYI succeeded Lorin Maazel at the Cleve-

land Orchestra helm in 1982, he possessed very little recording experience.
His daunting reputation as an exponent of contemporary music was
reflected in his limited discography by the two Berg operas on London and
Henze's DerJunge Lord, an opera he had premiered in 1965, on Deutsche
Grammophon. Except for a cycle of Mendelssohn symphonies-part ana-
log, part digital-on London, there was little else. Something about the
Dohnanyi-Cleveland Orchestra combination aroused the interest of the
major companies, however, and before the conductor became an exclusive
London artist, the new partnership also appeared on Telarc and Teldec,
making the ensemble the country's most recorded orchestra.
Dohnanyi arrived in Cleveland for a round of meetings and ceremonial
appearances in October 1983. Since the tightly packed series ofmedia events
fell behind schedule almost immediately, our interview took place while
the Severance Hall public relations staff literally held reporters from a local
television station at bay.
Dohnanyi's 1983 projections as to the symphonic literature he would
like to record proved entirely accurate; his opera plans, however, ran into
some snags. His stated desire to record a Mozart opera with the Cleveland
Orchestra has not yet been realized. Some rather complex plans to perform
(at Blossom), record, and film Strauss's Salome and Elektra fell apart owing
to soft funding for the films. In 1992, however, as part of the orchestra's
seventy-fifth anniversary, London began a project to record Wagner's
complete Ring cycle under Dohnanyi's direction, the sessions for each op-
era following concert performances, over several years.
In 1990, London made a substantial financial investment in its future
with the orchestra by building a removable platform in front ofthe Severance
stage, extending over the seats on the auditorium floor, thus making the
hall a far more satisfactory recording venue that it had been in the past.
59
60 RI!CO RD I N G T HII C LASS iCS
"The sound is very good , very natural ," remarked Dohnanyi to me at the
time . "Wh en we know [his place better after, maybe let's say, about six
sessions or something like rhar, we will have an absolutely optimal recording
situation there, I'm quite sure. And I thin k it's going to be one of the best
places to record ." ~~
To view this im age, pl ease refer to t h e print ver sion

of this book
Chri smph VOIl D<"hllariyi conducts the Cleveland O rchestra. Phot o by Peter Hastings.
CHRISTOPH VON DOHNANYI 61
BADAL: Maestro, the public tends to think of musicians in terms of what

they record. Though I should know better, I'm just as bad as anyone
else. When your appointment here was announced, people would come
to me and say, "Well, who is he?" And I'd say, "Oh, he conducted that
recording of Henze's DerJunge Lordon Deutsche Grammophon." Now,
is this something that musicians today simply have to live with?
DOHNANYI: You have to live with it, I think. But, you know, it's just a
question ofwhether it bothers you very much. There are some very good
conductors who don't record at all. For instance,Celibidache doesn't do
any recording, and he is one of the greatest. I think recording is very
important for-it's more a matter of history, of ... how do you call it ...
archive value. Because there are some people whom nobody knows these
days who are very important. For instance, Leibowitz. You know the
conductor Rene Leibowitz? There are some recordings, unfortunately
not available in this country; but I think you can get them somehow-
Beethoven, and so on-which are very important. And since nobody
can hear Leibowitz anymore, these recordings I appreciate very much.
Old Furtwangler! Some of the Toscaninis! And, for instance, there was a
German conductor named Rosbaud, Hans Rosbaud, who really was a
very fabulous conductor. He recorded very little.
BADAL: There are some.
DOHNANYI: There are some, but very few. He was a really great musician.
And so I would say it is just a matter ofsome people recording a lot and
not even caring very much about what they put down. Maybe the records
sold well, but if you listen carefully, they don't sound too good. They
don't mean much. Some record little, which doesn't mean they have to
be better; but it's very hard to record a lot and be good. That's very hard
because, you know, there is not so much money for recording, and things
have to be pushed at sessions. Even if you play things before in concert,
even if you rehearse them, it is very seldom that you are really happy
after a recording. You know, we did some recordings-my operas and so
on-and afterwards I said, "Oh, couldn't we do just two or three more
hours? There's so much left to do." And you find some recordings by
some of the most famous conductors of our day where bars are missing.
Bars are missing! So one has to be very careful.
BADAL: What value do you think recordings have other than their archive
importance?
DOHNANYI: You know, we do a Beethoven symphony, and somebody says,
"I want to take it home." That's like the tourist who says, "Let's have a
picture." Went to Paris and took pictures; went to Lyons and took pic-
tures, and so on. In a way this is what is happening with recordings.
That's why, for me, recording is mainly a medium of report. It records
something which is actual, something which is going on. So that's why I
like live recordings, even if people are coughing. A recording is-how
could I put it-a recording might be like a photograph rather than the
real thing. It's very good for a conductor, for any musician, to record
because it's a tremendous way of controlling your musicianship, your
tempi and balances and things like that. But now some people, likeTelarc
for instance, record with very few microphones, and this makes a lot of
difference because this is much more realistic.
BADAL: Is it possible for a conductor to make recordings too early?
DOHNANYI: I never pushed the idea of recording very much for myself
And I'm happy that I haven't recorded the Brahms symphonies yet and
so on, because it is a matter of maturity, and I don't think it's too wise to
put down Brahms and Beethoven and Mozart when you are twenty-
eight.
BADAL: Do recordings have any educational value for the music-loving
public?
DOHNANYI: Actually, the knowledge about music has been developed tre-
mendously by recordings. There are so many people who know a lot
about music who don't even play an instrument. On the other hand, I
think a recording never really represents the realistic sound of the com-
position the way you hear it in concert. But I think we are coming to a
certain point where recordings will achieve the proper balance with live
concerts. You know, there was a time when recording just overwhelmed
music, and everybody had to have everything: five Tbscas, five Beethoven
Ninths, and so on. Now I think everything is a little more selective. If
you consider, for instance, how radio developed, it was just a mess and
trash, and you couldn't get any good music on it. And now it's some-
thing very different. And I think recording will become a much more
artistic thing-if it can be paid for, you know, because it's tremendously
expensive.
BADAL: Maestro, you're young enough to have grown up with recordings
available to you. Did recorded music play any part in your early musical
education?
DOHNANYI: No! Not at all.
BADAL: Are there any particular recordings you remember from when you
were a boy that made an impression on you?
DOHNANYI: Very, very few. My parents didn't have many recordings, but
we had some. You know, those 78s! I remember when I was a child, there
were some recordings ofSchlusnus singing. And, if course, we had some
of the Beethovens, you know, things like that. But living in Berlin in
those days, I went to concerts as many times as possible.
BADAL: Musically, that was an incredible time in Berlin.
DOHNANYI: Yes! So we didn't need recordings. We had a lot of chamber
music at home, and we went to concerts.
BADAL: There's that very famous photograph taken in 1929 in Berlin of
Walter, Klemperer, Kleiber, Toscanini, and Furrwangler standing in a
row.
DOHNANYI: All those people, yes. But even in the time when I was brought
up in the thirties, Purrwangler was there, and I went to his rehearsals
and concerts. So I didn't listen much to recordings, actually.
BADAL: You haven't made too many recordings up to this point. Does the
desire become stronger when you have an orchestra you can call your
own?
DOHNANYI: Yes. You know, I did some recordings with the Vienna Phil-
harmonic. This is a marvelous orchestra which I love very much. I did
the Mendelssohn recordings because I wanted to study Mendelssohn.
We didn't have much experience with Mendelssohn in Germany. When
I was young, his music wasn't played, unfortunately, so I had to make
up for that somehow. I studied Mendelssohn very carefully, and then I
recorded those symphonies. And I also recorded some operas. But with
the Cleveland Orchestra, it's different, of course. This is an orchestra
which is so quick and so routined in recording. And I'm not now a
young beginner anymore, so I'm looking forward to doing some impor-
tant recording work.
BADAL: Are there any works which you have wanted to record and now feel
that you can?
DOHNANYI: I am looking forward to doing a lot ofthe Beethovens, Dvorak;
later maybe Brahms, Mozart, and Haydn. I mean, these are allvery special.
And ifpossible-I mean, it's just a matter ofmoney-I would love to do
some opera with the Cleveland Orchestra; I would love to do some Mozart
operas.
BADAL: Lorin Maazel did one, the Porgy and Bess.
DOHNANYI: Yes, and I would love to do some Strauss maybe, and things
like that.
BADAL: All of us in town are very excited about the Telarc recordings that
you are going to make. It seems to me that I read once that one of the
things you disliked about Hamburg was that you had to leave the city to
make records.
DOHNANYI: Yes. I think to be able to record is very important for an or-
chestra because the musical level, the artistic level, the professional level
must be very high. So I think it's a very healthy thing to be able to
record. In Germany, actually, there are two orchestras which record.
There's just the Berlin Philharmonic and the BayerischeRundfunk. Some
of the orchestras, you know, are rather well paid, and they just say, "OK,
so other people record. We will just play," so the standard is not very
high, technically speaking. In Hamburg, there were some marvelous
musicians, but there were some other ones who really-you couldn't
use them for recordings. And this situation you don't find over here in
America.
BADAL: Music is an art which exists in time. If you conducted the same
piece twice in a row, the second performance would be different from
the first. But a recording is always going to be the same, and I know
there are some musicians who are bothered by that. Does that bother
you?
DOHNANYI: It does bother me, yes. It does bother me. That's why I didn't
even have a record player, a machine, in my house. The people from
Decca would come to my house and say, "How did you like the record?"
And I would say, "You know, I have to be honest; I haven't heard it yet."
My own recordings! And then they put a machine in my house, and I
listened to them. Sometimes I liked them very much. For instance, two
of the Mendelssohn symphonies, maybe three, I still like very much.
But the other ones, I would like to do differently now, you know.
BADAL: Dare I ask which ones?
DOHNANYI: Yes, the "Lobgesang" for instance. The "Lobgesang," I think,
even in the casting, it is not so perfect. I wasn't so close-I'm still not
very close to this piece.
BADAL: It's a very difficult piece.
DOHNANYI: Very difficult piece. But the "Lobgesang" and the "Reformation"
Symphony, those two are very difficult, and most likely I would have
needed a little more time for them. But the "Italian" and "Scottish" I like
very much. I also like the recording of the First, which is a beautiful
pIece.
BADAL: Anyone who listens to a lot of recordings learns something very
quickly. Certain kinds of performances repeat over and over again very
well. There are other kinds that don't. My favorite examples are always
live radio tapes with Funwangler. The first time you hear one, it is just
the most incredibly dynamic and exciting thing you can imagine, but it
doesn't repeat well.
DOHNANYI: You are perfectly right. The great recording conductors are not
the oneswho are the most individual conductors. Of course, that's why
it is so hard for some people who try to imitate Furrwangler. It's very
hard to do, and one shouldn't even try, because if he did something, in
some way, it was very convincing. What I think is, if you are very indi-
vidual, if you are a tremendous personality and you express something,
at that moment people are very taken, you know, really just hypnotized.
For instance, I know Furrwangler's Beethoven recordings, and I heard all
the Beethovens, of course, many times in live concerts with him. It's a
strange thing. Live he was much more convincing than on recordings,
much more convincing. I don't agree with his picturing of the structure
in Beethoven symphonies; I don't agree at all. Now, I think the Szell
recordings are much closer, much closer to the picture of Beethoven
than some of the Furrwanglers.
But you are perfectly right. Ifyou listen to him later with a little more
distance, then you say, "Why does he slow down so much here? What
does it mean? Or why does he stop? Why doesn't he at least think about
Beethoven's metronome markings?" You don't have to take the metro-
nome markings in an absolute sense, but one thing should be consid-
ered very carefully. If Beethoven writes that something should be felt in
one, you can't feel it in two. You can do one slower or one faster, but you
can't feel two. And in this sense, metronomes are very important, I think,
especially with Beethoven. There has been a lot of thinking about this,
for instance, from the Kolisch Quartet. Leibowitz was one who was very
close to this problem, and Szell very much so.' And suddenly, you listen
to Furtwangler; you listen, for instance, to Furtwangler's Beethoven Ninth
Symphony.
BADAL: The Bayreuth one.
DOHNANYI: Yes. You know, you have the feeling the slow movement is
falling apart in some way. It's just falling apart. But Beethoven has very,
very little metronome difference between the two tempi in the slow
movement, and one should realize this. You can't do one very quickly
and the other very slowly, you know. So in this sense, the metronome
means a lot to me in Beethoven symphonies, even ifyou cannot play the
music at the right speed because sometimes you just can't accomplish it
technically.
BADAL: What kind of effect do you think recordings have on young
conductors?
DOHNANYI: You know, I think if you are very young, it's good to be
influenced by somebody. And that's one of our most difficult situations
today, that young conductors look upon too many different so-called
schools or Schulen. There was Gustav Mahler and Bruno Walter, and
Bruno Walter didn't care about anybody else but Gustav Mahler. He was
his master, you know. And there was Jochum to Furrwangler, and so on;
and if you are young, that's very important. Some ofthe young conductors
today, I have the feeling, can't bring any meaning to music anymore
because they are listening to all those hundreds of records. I know a very
famous conductor today, one ofthe most famous, who really puts together
tapes ofdifferent kinds of interpretations, and then that's his master tape
for studying a piece.
BADAL: Who were your idols when you were growing up?
DOHNANYI: You know, for me it was Furtwangler, I lived in Berlin, and it
was Furrwangler, Then after the war, I coached in Frankfurt with Solti,
who was very important to me, very important. Then when I was over
here, I was very interested in what Lenny Bernstein did with music,
because this was so different from anything you could experience in
Europe. So it was rather fascinating up in Tanglewood.
BADAL: That was in the early fifties, right?
DOHNANYr: Yes. And Rosbaud was very important to me. He was in Munich,
you know, when I studied. And then, I always-it's very interesting
because Szell's work here was always very important to me. Even way
before I was in touch with the Cleveland Orchestra, I was always follow-
ing what he did, listening to concerts when he came, and so on, because,
you know, he was-he tried to be so close to what was written. He was
just very important to me.
BADAL: If you talk with an actor who has been trained on the stage but is
now working in film, he'll tell you that there is more involved than simply
doing things differently because the mediums are different. He'll say you
really have to come to a philosophical understanding of how the theater

is different from a movie. Does a conductor have to do the same thing
when he moves from the concert hall into the recording studio?
DOHNANYI: No, no! I don't think so, because the difference is the actor has
very seldom to face the same "libretto" in film as he does in the theater.
Ifyou write for film, that's one thing; ifyou write for the stage, it's different.
Now if we would write music for recording-
BADAL: Which no one has ever done.
DOHNANY:r: Which no one has ever done, you know.
BADAL: Except the rock groups, maybe.
DOHNANYI: Yes! Ifwe would write music for electronic equipment, it would
be very different, of course. I think that's the trouble, for instance, with
opera on television. One should write an opera for television.
BADAL: There are a few who did.
DOHNANYI: Yes, there are some. Some people tried, but there is almost
nothing. They just try to do Butterfly on television. This is very hard to
do.
BADAL: Media theorists say that people tend to accept the leveloftechnology
that they are born into but regard all subsequent development as a threat.
What dangers or benefits do you see with the increased application of
technology to music?
DOHNANYI: There is a benefit. Of course, technology has helped increase
the knowledge about music. But there is a tremendous danger, too. I
think recordings put people in a position where they just lean back and
listen. But that's something very different from a concert; it is more passive.
It is like a voyeur. Our whole time is a voyeur time. You go to Africa, see
those hungry people suffer, see those children with the flies in their eyes,
you know. You take pictures and bring them home and say, "Isn't that
terrible?" But that's as far as it goes. Our time is a voyeur time. And we
are also voyeurs in music, and as a voyeur, you are not very creative. I
think the media put too many people in this situation of not being
creative. People who are just sitting back and listening to recordings
would be better off and closer to music if they would go to the violin
and the piano, have a friend over and do some chamber music, you
know.
BADAL: I remember what a thrill it was for me the first time I could pick up
the score to TheMarriage ofFigaro and really read it.
DOHNANYI: Things like that, things like that. But to be able to have a score,
go for a walk, and read a string quartet! Very few people will do this
because ofall this Walkman business. They have their tapes. And I think
this tremendous development of technological equipment cuts down
creation, the ability of people to create themselves. But to stay with the
philosophical point of view: the more information you receive, the greater
your personality has to be; otherwise, you can't cope with it. Yousomehow
get into this kind ofsituation where you suffer from feedback, you know,
and you can't think anymore. Sometimes it's better not to go too far in
being fed by other people's thought because then you don't think any-
more . That's why some people don't compose anymore. It's a different
situation. It's not only good , but it's not only bad.
SIMON RATTLE
IT HAS BEEN said that Simon Rattle is an old-fashioned conductor. In an

age when many ofhis colleagues use orchestra appointments as mere rungs
on the career ladder, he has remained contentedly with the City of Bir-
mingham Orchestra since 1980, patiently developing both its potential and
his own considerable talent. Reportedly, he also ignores lucrative offers to
appear on other podiums, largely turning his back on the rat race of the
guest conducting circuit.
Shrewdly aware ofthe problems he and other conductors ofhis generation
facewhen they begin to record, he wiselyselected Deryck Cooke's performing
version of Mahler's Symphony No. 10, a work few have tackled on disc, for
his first major project on EMI in 1980, a company for which he now records
exclusively. Since then, he has consistently added interesting repertoire to
his growing discography, such as works by Henze, Adams, and Weil. Though
he has moved closer to the center of the so-called standard repertoire in
recent years, he continues to shun Beethoven and Brahms in favor of
Debussy, Janacek, Shostakovich, Sibelius, and Stravinsky. His decision to
record his Glyndebourne Festival production of Porgy and Bess can be seen
as both a confirmation of the opera's international status and a bold challenge
to American domination in the Gershwin repertoire.
Rattle also demonstrates his individuality in his personal approach to
working in the studio. Like Otto Klemperer before him, he has rebelled
against the technology that makes it possible to assemble "perfect"
performances from different takes of varying length and instead records
large, multimovement works in single extended takes.
Whatever his attitude may be toward the practice now, Simon Rattle
was obviously still guest conducting when he appeared with the Cleveland
Orchestra in November of 1984. The rigors of his schedule dictated an
70 RE COR D IN G -rnu CLASS I C S
interview in the lounge area of his downtown hotel. He maintained his

good h umor throughout, though dearly annoyed by [he Muzak pouring
from the ceiling speakers. ~.,
To view this im age, pl ease refer to th e print version

of this book
SImon Rattle. Photo by Victoria Mihich. Co urtesy of f.MI.

SIMON RATTLE 71
BADAL: All the other conductors I've interviewed so far have been over
fifty. If they grew up with recordings available to them at all, we're deal-
ing with 78s. You, however, are young enough to have grown up with
recordings available to you that represent the advanced states of the art,
and I would think that would make a difference in your attitude toward
them.
RATTLE: I'm sure that's true. But that being said, I think that 78s often give
a more accurate picture of what an orchestra sounds like than many of
the recordings I hear that are brought out now. I like that very clear,
clean, honest sound of the 78s, which I also grew up with. My father
had a very large collection ofearly records. Lots ofStokowski and Phila-
delphia. Those 78s sounded wonderful, actually, wonderful.
BADAL: Did recordings play any significant part in your musical education?
RATTLE: Oh, I think so. There was a great deal of music in Liverpool, and
the orchestra played an enormously wide and adventurous selection of
music. Between Liverpool and London there were always plenty of op-
portunities. But records obviously enabled me to explore even further. I
started as a small child with an enormous love of twentieth-century
music and worked backwards. And of course, in my teens I discovered
that there were probably performances available on records that were
more extraordinary than performances I would have a chance to hear,
purely because the conductors were all dead. I did see Monteux as a
small boy, and Barbirolli. So at least I had some contact there. But I
never managed to see Klemperer, for instance-very, very sadly. But as a
teenager, I found records of Furtwangler, Kleiber, Toscanini, Bruno
Walter, of course, an enormous inspiration. Also, one felt that those
records were produced honestly. I think that one can hear they are per-
formances.
BADAL: Honestly from a technical standpoint?
RATTLE: And honestly from the point of view of giving you a performance
as opposed to something snipped around. I find I listen to almost no
modern recordings, although I do have them. What listening I do will
tend to be to-I have lots of mono records.
BADAL: Were there any particular performances that made an impression
on you?
RATTLE: I think I'm going to surprise you enormously. And I still think it's
one of the great performances of the piece I've ever heard. It's the Brahms
First Symphony with Stokowski, made very, very early on. Wonderful!
BADAL: With Stokowski?

RATTLE: Yes! You've never heard it?
BADAL: I don't think so.
RATTLE: Later in life there are very strange performances; but this one is
marvelously propulsive, classical, straight, yet flexible. Marvelous!
BADAL: I guess Furtwangler was more straightforward when he was young,
too. It was later that his performances became even more flexible.
RATTLE: That's interesting! I mean, everything he did was supported by
such an extraordinary intellect. I think that people's-how shall I put
it-people's conception ofperformances became straighter, and therefore
Furtwangler will appear as more wayward.
BADAL: As a musician, how do you use recordings?
RATTLE: Sometimes I listen to recordings out of interest to find out how
Mr. or Ms. X gets around a particular problem. That can be, sometimes,
very interesting. I find them very useful when I don't know a piece at all,
and I find them very useful when I know the piece extremely well-one
that I have conducted a number of times. In between those extremes, I
think they can be dangerous.
BADAL: You touch on something I'd like to get to in a minute.
RATTLE: Sadly, I can't do my answers in the same order as the questions.
BADAL: That's all right. In what way do you feel that recordings are
dangerous?
RATTLE: I think the very availability of recordings has led to a rather
embarrassing standardization of performances, and the range of what is
considered the acceptable interpretation in many pieces has been very
narrowed. I think people tend towards the mean, and I think recordings
are culprits there. Hearing performances ofmany ofthe great masterpieces
recorded now, one notices a great deal less individuality. It may be just
that the conductors are less individual and less interesting. I think it's
chicken and egg. One doesn't know which has come first. But I think
recordings have been a blessing, and I think they have been a curse at the
same time.
BADAL: As I said, everyone else I've interviewed has been over fifty, and they
all speak very eloquently about the dangers of recordings for young
conductors.
RATTLE: But never for themselves! Isn't that interesting!
BADAL: Well, I wouldn't quite say that. For example, Masur feels that young
conductors may be inclined to imitate what they hear on recordings,
SIMON RATTLE 73
and Leinsdorf feels they may be tempted to do the opposite ofwhat they
hear. Dohnanyi says there is a time in your life when you have to imitate
someone, that it's important when you're young to have someone to
look up to. And he mentioned Bruno Walter to Mahler and Jochum to
Furtwangler,
RATTLE: But then he's a very smart man indeed.
BADAL: But he said that today with so many recordings available to them,
young conductors may have difficulty finding their own voices.
RATTLE: I think the difficulty is that, as a young conductor, it's possible to
pick up idiosyncrasies without the discipline behind them. What one
has to realize about Furtwangler's interpretations is that they were based
on an extraordinary bedrock of intellect, and there was nothing that
man didn't know about the structure of the music, about the intellec-
tual hard core. He wasn't an instinctive musician like Toscanini or
Stokowski, for instance. He understood all the foundations of harmony,
counterpoint, and structure, and so his departures were all structural
and all organic to the music. As a young conductor, you can listen, and
it's like being set free. But, of course, to imitate it is very dangerous
because one has to start once again from the--one has to go from the
bottom up. Just as Schoenberg was, of course, the most rigorous con-
ventional-harmony teacher of the century! His pupils were not allowed
to go beyond it until he felt they were absolutely secure and had that
background to fall back on. Atonality without that is just an indul-
gence.
BADAL: Somehow one feels that Mengelberg's departures were not as struc-
turally motivated as Furrwangler's.
RATTLE: But we rarely hear Mengelberg conducting except as a very old
man. Having only heard Klemperer, seeing him conduct on television,
as a very old and sick man, it was a revelation to hear recordings from
the twenties.
BADAL: Or some of the live performances from his Hungarian days.
RATTLE: Or even the earlier things with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra.
One sees an entirely different person. I mean, one understands why
Klemperer and Boulez became so close. Many, many similarities! And
so, in these ways, recordings can also give a distorted picture. There is no
doubt that a record is a recording of an event in a moment of time,
reflecting only the choices available to one at that time. When I come to
recording certain pieces I've already recorded, it will be very interesting
to see. Even now when I listen back to things I recorded three or four
years ago! I don't find them unacceptable, but I do sometimes think,
"Oh, foolish young man." Just purely because things change. As a
conductor, one has to be going-one has to be changing all the time. I
think the greatest danger of recording is that one can be standardized
and that one can think having done a piece, that then, there it is! And of
course, music is always changing; it was not meant to be captured; it was
not meant to be the same each time. Music was not meant to sound like
gramophone records.
BADAL: I gather from what you've said that the historical aspect of recording
is very important to you.
RATTLE: I think it is important to listen to old recordings and not say when
those things come unexpectedly upon you, "Oh, but that's ridiculous."
Actually sit and ponder why, at that particular time, that was deemed to
be necessary.
BADAL: Have you ever heard the recordings of Nikisch?
RATTLE: Oh, yes!
BADAL: Extraordinary!
RATTLE: But if one hears Oskar Fried's recordings of Mahler-despite the
fact that one can hear the double basses are played by four tubas-there
is still a flexibility which is of a tradition almost lost. In fact, I've the
feeling that Toscanini, who was without doubt one ofthe most important
musicians of the century, that his recordings came upon an unsuspecting
world and created a kind of mania of rigidity.
BADAL: But most of his recordings come from his later years. There is a
record of his first recordings made in 1921 with the La Scala Orchestra.
RATTLE: I'm sure that they will be very different, just as Stravinsky's early
recordings are very different. I mean, Stravinsky's recordings of his own
works seem to have persuaded an entire generation to play his music like
graveland at twice the speed. Indeed, I've seen occasionswhere conductors
have very faithfully listened to the records of Stravinsky and taken the
wrong notes that the players have played in those recordings and changed
the notes in the score. They've also taken some of the ludicrous tempos
that either he or possibly Robert Craft took. There's an extraordinary
recording of the Symphony in Three Movements made by the New York
Philharmonic just after the work's premiere in 1945, and one hears what
a marvelous conductor Stravinsky was. And of course, in those days the
New York Philharmonic was a great orchestra. It's full of color, life, pas-
sion, and singing as well.
SIMON RATTLE 75
BADAL: How do you feel about working in the studio? Do you, for ex-
ample, like the principle of the long take?
RATTLE: I will no longer record works that have not been played by the
orchestra and myselfmany times in performance. And apart from absolute
disasters, I will not cut in. The new cycle of Sibelius recordings which
we've started-we did the Second during the summer, and we decided
from that time onwards that we would do those recordings in takes ofan
entire symphony.
BADAL: Not just individual movements?
RATTLE: Not split into movements! The Second is just about to come out,
and I think you can tell that we made-we had three sessions. Having
rehearsed frantically first, we then made a take of the entire symphony,
listened to it, worked through the evening, and then came back the next
morning and made another take ofthe whole symphony. What the effect
is for the musicians and myself is that we forget we are in a recording
studio, which is one of the hardest things to do. It felt to us like a
performance, as though we were performing for each other as a kind of
ideal audience who understood what each other wanted. We were all
very excited by the cumulative sense of the recording and the feeling
that this is how we play, at that moment that was what we wanted, and
that there was nothing cosmetic in the process.
BADAL: Did you record Britten's war Requiem that way?
RATTLE: There are some pieces one is simply not able to-
BADAL: You'd have a hell of a time recording an opera.
RATTLE: I know. Well, I mean, if you've heard Giulini's Falstaff, which is
taken from live performances, it's wonderful! The war Requiem was split
into a number of sections with chamber orchestra, a number ofsections
with large orchestra and chorus, and it was frantically difficult to record
because ofthat. The contrast ofthe piece is implicit in the two ensembles.
It is very difficult to spend three hours recording only the choral sections,
very hard.
BADAL: I imagine you have to be very clear in your own mind where each
section fits into the whole.
RATTLE: We had done it many times. And don't forget that the orchestra
and the chorus did, among other things, the first performance of that
piece. So there are still many of the orchestra who can remember seeing
these scrawly pencil-written parts and scrambling their way through the
Libera Me believing they'd never seen anything quite as difficult. And
the orchestra had played the piece, extraordinarily, at least twice a season
every year since the first performance because it's been an enormously
played piece in England. We had played the piece five or six times over
the course of two years.
BADAL: I think anyone who listens to records and attends concerts has had
the experience of hearing a recorded performance and thinking, "I don't
care for that," but ifhe had heard the same artist perform the piece live,
he may have accepted it.
RATTLE: That is precisely, of course, one of the reasons for the lack of risk-
taking in recordings, because every musician realizes that.... Any mu-
sician is probably going to hate his own recordings. That's one of those
things. By the time they come out, it's always a year or so after you've
made them, and one has always moved on. I can't pretend I listen to my
records. There are some I have never even heard apart from actually
approving the final pressings. I use recording, of course, for a different
purpose-in orchestra building. I mean, orchestra building is very out
of fashion these days. Conductors tend to want to make their careers as
guest artists, running backwards and forwards, going two weeks here,
two weeks there, to all the great and prestigious orchestras.
BADAL: That's one ofthe reasonswe'reso pleased with our new music director
in Cleveland. Clearly, he doesn't think that way.
RATTLE: Thank goodness! There is very, very little pleasure in guest
conducting. There's very little music making. You can do your best, but
it's always a very suspicious situation. It's always a matter of just paper-
ing over cracks. When I went to Birmingham four years ago, I didn't
actually dream at that time that this would be something that I would
consider spending many, many years working with. The improvement
and the passion of the musicians has proved to be such that-
BADAL: And you think recordings playa part in this?
RATTLE: I think so. It's a way of everybody hearing each other and hearing
where they are. I found, particularly when we began working, that after
each recording there was a dramatic jump in the awareness and the
standard of the orchestra. I use recording now as a tool in orchestra
building, as well as a remarkable discipline for us and as a place where
one simply has to sort out the problems. It's an enormous incentive for
everybody to be working their best. I think that's what one must be
aiming for with an orchestra all the time. Give them opportunities and
places where they must give their best and better. And then one can
jump from plane to plane. As one reaches a certain height, then that is
SIMON RATTLE 77
the expected standard. Then one can move on from there, and for me, in
a way, that is the most important aspect of my recording.
BADAL: I've noticed that when young conductors begin to record, they tend
to concentrate on the fringes of the repertoire. In your own case, Britten
and Janacek.
RATTLE: You know, you may think that's the fringe of the repertoire, but-
BADAL: Would you do a Beethoven symphony?
RATTLE: What would be the point? There's no point in recording something
unless it is good. No! I think there'd be no point. I think very often there
are some pieces that are exceptionally difficult for conductors, among
them Beethoven symphonies. I think a recording has got to be an event.
I mean, there's no point-I love conducting Beethoven, but there's no
point in recording an interpretation which is not, in some sense, finished.
As a permanent record, I don't see the point.
BADAL: Are you speaking purely for your own satisfaction, or is there also
the realization that every great conductor has recorded them?
RATTLE: I think it's simpler than that. I just think that you have a duty
towards that music and that you have to be able to look that music
straight in the face without being embarrassed. I wouldn't want to inflict
another second- or third-rate recording ofBeethoven's Seventh on anyone.
I think there are plenty of second- or third-rate recordings without my
adding another one. Who knows, it could be worse.
BADAL: If you talk to an actor who was trained on the stage, he will tell you
that if you start making movies, you have to come to a philosophical
understanding of how the mediums are different from each other. Is it
the same for a conductor moving from the concert hall into the studio?
RATTLE: I used to think that, but now I try to make them as similar as
possible. I think you can choose to take Muri's approach, which is to
work on each bar until it's perfect and then go to the next bar, or you can
choose to say, this is a performance and no amount of perfection and
polish will make it a better performance. It may give it more perfection
and polish. But a piece ofmusic is an entity, and I think it does a disservice
to the music to cut it into little, tiny bits and then pretend when it's
stitched together that it's going to be anything more than a stitching.
You couldn't do that to a human being.
BADAL: Media theorists say that people tend to accept the levelof technology
they are born into but regard further developments as dangerous. What
dangers to music do you see from the application of technology?
RATTLE: I think this abortion which is playing over us at the moment is one
of the great dangers-the fact that everyone hears music as wallpaper all
the time. In supermarkets, hotels; you name it. I think there's an enormous
danger that audiences will tend to go to concerts wanting to be soothed
and hear nice, gentle wallpaper. Sometimes I think in some American
cities the audiences sound to me as if they're going to a movie. They talk,
they rustle, they cough. It is as though the concert is a background, an
entertainment to be switched on and switched off.
BADAL: It's like the way the audiences at La Scala behaved in the nineteenth
century.
RATTLE: But they were involved in the music. It's different. They were
shouting and screaming about, but that's different.
BADAL: Do you see any benefits to music from technology?
RATTLE: If records raise the standard of orchestral playing, or if they raise
the standard of what people expect. They can, however, act as a
contraceptive to musicians who may become too terrified to take a risk
or playa wrong note. So I think there are equal benefits and dangers. If
records become something that dampens your sense of adventure about
music making, then I think they're probably doing a criminal act. If they
bring music to a wider audience, then they are giving untold benefits.
CHARLES DUTOIT
CHARLES DUTOIT'S CAREER in the studio demonstrates a particularly inter-

esting facet of the recording business: that in some cases, labels and the
public want to link the nationality of the conductor with the nationality of
the composer-Italians for Rossini, French for Ravel. A French-Swiss mu-
sician born in Lausanne, Dutoit grew up in a musical atmosphere domi-
nated by Ernest Ansermet, and he acknowledges the late conductor of the
Orchestre de la Suisse Romande as one of the principal influences in his
own musical development.
As music director of the Montreal Symphony Orchestra, Dutoit's reper-
toire naturally embraces the entire field of symphonic literature. However,
as an exclusive artist on London (the same label that had enjoyed Anserrnet's
services for thirty years), he found himself, partially of his own choosing,
taking over the same French composers with whom his countryman had
been so firmly identified. Though he rightly insisted in our March 1985
interview that he and his orchestra were moving into other areas on disc, a
decade later much of his recorded repertoire continues to be the repertoire
of Ansermet: the French masters, the Russian Romantics, and the early
moderns, such as Bartok, Stravinsky, and Prokofiev.
Besidesbeing responsible for the week's concerts in SeveranceHall, Dutoit
was taking the Cleveland Orchestra on a swing through the South, a cir-
cumstance that placed him in the unenviable position ofpreparing an enor-
mous amount of material in very little time. The Severance public relations
staff squeezed this interview berween Dutoit's intensely busy morning re-
hearsal (judging from the towel draped over his shoulders) and his lunch.
In spite of the less-than-ideal conditions, Dutoit responded to questions
with genuine enthusiasm. Following the interview, the maestro was lunch-
ing with Krystian Zimerman, soloist for the week's concerts, and the pia-
nist sat quietly at the other end of the office, hence Dutoit's occasional
references to him. --'"
79
80 RECO RD I NG THE C LASSICS
To view this image, please refer t o the p rint version

of this book
Charles Du toit. Photo by Jim Steere. Courtesy of the ()rchcsne Symp hon ique de Montreal.
BADA L : M aestro , man y of the older conducto rs. men born in the last cen-
tu ry, loathed makin g records, they hated the process, and they hated the
results. You, however, are young eno ugh to have grown up with record-
ings available to you tha t represented a fairly advanced state of the an.
Do cs that make your attitu de toward records different from the olde r
generation's?
CHARLES DUTOIT 81
DUTOIT: Well, first of all I don't think it has to do only with the older
generation of conductors. I know many of my colleagues and young
soloists, such as for instance, Krystian Zimerman who is playing this
week with me-he hates recordings. So I don't think it's a conflict of
generations. It's mainly, I think, the approach that someone takes to-
ward the technology. I personally love to make recordings, especially
when I can do it on my own terms. I don't like to go and record as a
guest conductor, for instance. I have done a lot of records in London, in
Paris and Geneva, even in Los Angeles, where I was a guest conductor,
and I prepared the orchestra in two days and had to make a record. And
I should say that this is not very satisfactory. At least one should be able
to-you know, whenever you make a recording, you do the best you
can. As a guest conductor, you can't do the best you can because you
have to compromise constantly with an orchestra-to adjust to their
technique somehow. Youcannot really change things in one or two days,
you know.
BADAL: The orchestra has its own personality.
DUTOIT: Yes, but some orchestras, especially the London ones, you would
expect to be flexible because they play such an enormous amount of
music with so many different conductors, but in fact, it's just the con-
trary. You can't just make a London orchestra play differently. They have
their own way to play, and that's it! So I don't record any longer in
London. My latest and greatest pleasure has been to record in Montreal
because there I could form the orchestra the way I wanted in order to
record. There was a long preparation as far as the quality of sound was
concerned, as far as the very subtle balance was concerned. Then I was
asked to record for London everywhere, and I told them, "Well, you
know, I think you should come to Montreal, because you will get a
better result there than with any orchestra I can conduct as a guest."
Not because-I don't want to say that the orchestra is better than the
others, but I have more control of the quality.
BADAL: They know you better.
DUTOIT: Of course, and I can train them to go into the studio, and so.
London came and they were very impressed and interested in pursuing
something with us there. And this has, ofcourse, all of this has an enor-
mous importance today because of the technology-the new technol-
ogy, digital and compact discs. There is no noise whatsoever, and now a
middle-of-the-road orchestra recording on compact discs doesn't come
off SO well. Before there was more of a generalized sound, you know,
something in the middle. Now you see, that sound is so-this technol-
ogy gives us such a fantastic spectrum; all the colors come out, and so
on. So we reallyhave to care very much about the quality of the orchestra.
BADAL: Does this create a problem for the listener who is used to hearing
the incredible clarity of a CD and doesn't hear the same thing in a con-
cert hall?
DUTOIT: Oh well, this the eternal problem, you know: the difference be-
tween recordings and the concert hall. I think they are two different
fields. First of all, we go to a concert hall, and that's it! It's a moment in
our life. We live this concert, and nothing will ever replace that. The
performance will be what it is. And there is a different kind of involve-
ment at a concert, both for the public and for the orchestra. There is
more communication among all of us. Youplaya concert, and you know
that it's one moment. A recording is-can be also one moment. It is, in
fact, one moment, especially here in America where we record so fast, so
quickly that it's actually like a concert performance.
BADAL: It's a repeatable moment, though.
DUTOIT: That's what I mean. So the record listener, on the other hand, has
a different perspective because he listens to a record, and then again and
again and again. He gets used to it. So obviously from the listener's point
of view, a record is not the same thing as a concert. I don't know any
record fan who doesn't like to go to concerts because the people who
reallycare about music-I'm not talking about fanatics, you know, people
who are hi-f fiends. I think that's more an attitude than anything else.
They are so crazy about their equipment and this and that and so. But
somebody who dearly likes music and buys a record because he loves a
piece, or he loves an orchestra, or a soloist, or a conductor, will go with
a lot of understanding to a concert. I have never heard anyone tell me,
"Oh, it's not as good as on the record." Although I must say that when
we were in Europe not long ago with the Montreal Symphony, I said to
the orchestra, "Listen, my friends! You had better be very good, because
you know, your reputation in Europe has been made through some won-
derful records. Now, if you don't playas well as you record, obviously
people will be disappointed." But actually they were just as good. Some-
times even better!
BADAL: Did recordings playa role in your musical education?
DUTOIT: Well, yes and no. Actually, you see, I came to music by listening to
CHARLES DUTOIT 83
some records which impressed me very much. One of the very first ones
was the Beethoven Violin Concerto with Kreisler. It was still on the 78s
you know.... Because I was studying the violin, I listened to the record.
I had never the pleasure to hear Kreisler personally, but that perfor-
mance was really so unbelievable that I fell in love, you know, with the
concerto and the violinist. He was my hero during my young days. And
then not long afterwards, I heard the very first LPs; you know, London
records. I remember the labels were orange. They were London records,
Decca in Europe; and they were Boyd Neel, the Brandenburg Concerti.
And one of the very first LPs that I received-because I won a little
contest on the radio, you know, and we had to guess something-was
Clemens Krauss conducting the Vienna Philharmonic in Don Juan and
Till Eulenspiegel. And also on record. Some friends of mine had these
Saturday evening sessions where we had a little glass of wine, or coffee,
or lemonade or whatever, and we listened to records. And that is how I
came across the music of Stravinsky like Les Noces. So obviously records
played a role in my youth, although they were not as popular as they are
now, you know.
BADAL: Today the public tends to think of any musical artist in terms of
what he records. I suppose any musician has to be aware of the impact of
recordings, especially when it comes to building a career. Is this some-
thing you just have to live with whether you like it or not?
DUTOIT: Well, I think there is a certain level of career today which has to
do with the recording business. Youknow, the levelofyour career changes
when you make recordings. I can see some artists, marvelous first-class
musicians, who are not recording. They tend to have careers a little hid-
den, you know, whereas the ones who are recording are obviously more
exposed. And this seems to be obvious and doesn't need any explana-
tion, because these recordings are played allover the world on the radio,
you know, and so obviously people get used to names. Actually, there are
veryJew artists who have exclusivecontracts with record companies. It is
very amazing to see if you take the five largest or most important labels
how many exclusiveartists they have. It's very few. You know, today you
look at Deutsche Grammophon, and they have, what, two or three con-
ductors, one or two pianists, one violinist. My own company, London,
has three conductors: Solti, Chailly, and myself.
BADAL: And Dohnanyi.
DUTOIT: Yes, but he is not exclusive.' He has made some records with them,
but he is not-at least I think he has made recordings for different labels.
Record companies tend to-they want to sell their records. So therefore,
they make more publicity, more promotion, and obviously it gives the
artist better exposure and ultimately a better career.
BADAL: I can think of certain artists who were exposed too widely too early.
DUTOIT: Oh, yes, well this is something else. Yousee, if now you talk about
the timing, I tend to agree with you. But that's changing because record
companies went through some problems in recent years, and I think
they are a little more selective now than they used to be. They used to
produce so many records and take artists at, what you call it, cradle?
BADAL: Cradle robbers.
DUTOIT: Yes, you know? Whenever they heard about someone, they would
have them make records. Somehow I think it's wrong to start too early.
It's wrong to start too early, at least as a conductor anyway. I'm not talk-
ing about a violinist, you know. A violinist can play beautifully at sixteen
or at forty-five because he plays his own instrument. But a conductor
needs that much experience, and I don't think he can pretend to be a
good conductor very early. And so therefore, a conductor should not
record too soon.
BADAL: How do you use recordings as an artist? Do you listen to them?
DUTOIT: I don't really listen to records. I listen, however, to cassettes, espe-
cially when I'm flying. One of the reasons is that sometimes I have to
know a singer or an opera, or a timing or something like that. So usually
when I am flying I take a few cassettes with me, and I listen to those
cassettes on the plane. Sometimes I receive a lot of cassettes, of course,
because many soloists, but especially young people, send cassettes and
things like that, and so I listen. Many operas! I like to get to know some
singers. But you see, when I am at home and I have some free time, I
don't listen to music because I like to do something else: to read, to be
home with my wife, to go to a museum, to go to the theater. And I go to
some concerts when I have friends over and I feel I can learn something
from a great artist who is playing somewhere, you know. Otherwise I
don't have really much time to listen, and I don't really use recordings
professionally except when I have a specific problem to solve. You know,
for instance, a phrasing or a problem I'm not sure-let me give you a
specific example. There is in Janacek a piece called Taras Bulba.
BADAL: A wonderful piece.
DUTOIT: It's a wonderful piece! But in Taras Bulba there is a bar, a transi-
CHARLES DUTOIT 85
tion between two tempi in the first part which I can't understand. I
don't understand what the composer wants to do. It doesn't work one
way or the other. You know, mathematically there is something wrong
there. And I just couldn't solve this problem. Now if! were living at the
time of Bach or in the nineteenth century, I would have gone to-like
Bach went to Lubeck to meet Buxtehude, you know, because there was
no alternative. Today, we can buy records and have access to some solu-
tions which great artists have resolved. And I think.why shouldn't we
take advantage of that? And you know, listening to Kubelik or Karel
Ancerl, who have been involved with this music all their lives, I found
the solution. You see, that was a very specific thing, this rhythmic little
thing. Because what Janacek thought is not clear. The writing is not
clear. It is very clumsy, the way it is written. So this is one example.
BADAL: How important is the historical aspect of recordings to you?
DUTOIT: Oh, I think it's extraordinary, of course. Although I think it's very
difficult to frankly and honestly say what we can learn, for instance,
from a-no, not what we can learn, we can always learn, but what we
could take and imitate, try to do again, from a Furrwangler interpreta-
tion. I don't believe we can. This is the problem with records; it's the
danger that I feel. Recording stops the development. A recording be-
longs to a specific time and specific moment in an artist's life. And for
instance, there are many things in a Furtwangler performance which we
couldn't do now-some very slow tempi. We cannot imitate that be-
cause we don't have the same blood pressure; we don't have the same
style of life; we don't have-it's a different world, you know, so if you
don't live intensely in that world, then you cannot take anything from it
and try to imitate it.
BADAL: Ofcourse if it were not for recordings,we would not know how older
conductors used portamento, how they did it and where they did it.
DUTOIT: That's right, that's right. But, on the other hand, one thing is
amazing. I used to listen to a .lot of great old pianists and violinists.
Today, we talk about the great techniques of these young people, their
musicality and so on. We say, "Oh well, they have fantastic technique."
But the older people had better technique. These fantastic pianists, start-
ing with Busoni and Rachmaninov and even before, you know. The
equipment was unbelievable.
BADAL: There was a time when orchestras had very strong national charac-
teristics. Those national characteristics don't seem to exist quite so much
any more, except for a few obvious cases like the Vienna Philharmonic.
Do you think recordings played any role in this?
DUTOIT: Yes and no. We are now in America, and in America every music
director has to be-has to have a wide repertoire because he works so
much with his own orchestra. And if you are German or if you are Ital-
ian, you could not do only your own music, you know. I mean, we have
to do so much music, and obviously we train the orchestra to be also
flexible in style. We play much more music than before, and obviously
it's wonderful on the one hand and also maybe a pity on the other be-
cause the personality of the orchestra is wider but with less individuality.
Now, as you said, in Vienna-
BADAL: Some of the East German orchestras also tend to sound as they
used to.
DUTOIT: That's right! Dresden, Leipzig. Dresden especially. But the Vienna
Philharmonic, we should remember, is an opera orchestra. They play
very few concerts, they have no music director, they have no conductor.
They give, I think, eight or ten subscription concerts a year. That's all!
And they usually play late Romantic music. They hardly play modern
pieces. They have also only Viennese people in the orchestra, and they
are all pupils of this one and that one. So it's really a very, very Viennese
affair. So obviously they are not very flexible. And their wind school is
also very awkward to me and to many other of my colleagues. But when
they play their own repertoire, I don't think anyone can come close to
them, you know. But of course, they are limited in the range of the
repertoire they do well, as I said. You know. I mean, I'm doing music
from Monteverdi on. Nearly everything! I don't say I do everything well
because obviously nobody can, but I'm very curious; I could not live
with only ten symphonies and a few other pieces.
Careers before were different. When you think of Furtwangler or Bruno
Walter, they are known today for a certain repertoire. That doesn't mean
they didn't do anything else, because if you see what Furrwangler did in
his younger days-he did some Ravel and things like that, you know. I
don't know whether it was good or not, but obviously he was a real,
traditional German conductor. Today we are a little more international,
and maybe recordings also had something to do with that. I'm not quite
sure, though, if it's the recording business which has changed things or
just the fact that interest in music in general has developed allover the
world. There is more demand for music. I was in Philadelphia last week;
CHARLES DUTorT 87
and not that long ago, maybe thirty years ago, the orchestra had a very
short season. They were playing a few weeks, you know, and they were
trying to get jobs here and jobs there in order to survive. So the demand
was not great. Today, all these orchestras have fifty-two-week contracts,
and they have to playa lot ofconcerts and a lot ofmusic. Yousee, I think
it's the times. It's a time where everyone is more curious. There is a lot of
information going around with the media, with radio and television and
everything. We tend to be a little more international.
BADAL: You stress that today a conductor has to have a much wider reper-
toire. Yet people who know you only from recordings would think of
you as a conductor of French and Russian repertoire. Is that by your
choice?
DUTOIT: I must tell you that first ofall, I was born in Lausanne, in Switzer-
land, and I was greatly influenced by Ernest Ansermet, who was the
maestro there. Although I had never a lesson from him, I'd been follow-
ing his work for many years, and he was my example, my mentor-not
only asa musician, but also intellectually. You know, his mind, his way
of looking at things and trying to understand things. He was one of the
last humanists, and that approach very much influenced me. Now, when
I arrived in Montreal, which is, as you know, a French city, I started to
work with the orchestra in many fields. We did a lot of things. But then
I was asked to record for London. Now, the question of repertoire was
the number one question, as in every company. Now you see, it is not
only because I have a French name, it is also because I came from that
background ofAnsermet who was an exclusive London record artist for
thirty-five years. Ansermet, as you know, was connected with all this
beginning-of-the-century music-not only French, but Stravinsky,
Bartok, Hindemith, Falla. You know, all the living composers. He con-
ducted the first performances of most of these pieces and actually re-
corded them for the first time himself. Now, when he died, there was a
big gap in the catalogue-not only because of him, but because all the
French conductors died. All these conductors died. There is nobody left.
Think of that great school: Monteux, Munch, Clutyens, Inghelbrecht,
Desormiere, Ansermet, Wolff. I mean, so many! That was a fantastic
school, and there is nobody left. In France today, you have no conductor
ofworld classexcept Boulez. But Boulez is not really a conductor in that
sense; you don't think ofBoulez as a conductor like you think of Munch
or Karajan. He is a personality, and he does so many things. So one
reason why we started with French music was the gap ofgenuine feeling
for that kind of repertoire. You know, today you hear some Ravel played
by a London orchestra and an Australian conductor, and this can be a
beautiful performance. But that very specific touch of color and sensi-
tivity, the genuine thing is missing. I don't say that it's right or wrong,
but it used to be like this, you know, when you had Clutyens and Munch
doing this music. It was a time which has disappeared. So what we are
trying to do, actually, is fill this gap. It is not a restriction, because things
are changing already. We have recorded, as you say, some Russian reper-
toire, and we are going to record some English music and also some
Mendelssohn.
BADAL: What English music are you going to record?
DUTOIT: Well, we are going to do some Elgar, and we will do The Planets
next fall. We are changing our image, you know; but as I said, we de-
cided to fill this gap. Bur there was also the marketing point of view.
There is no reason to record today unless you do first-class recordings.
Otherwise what is the point? There are so many records. I mean, we can
play very well the Mahler First Symphony, which we have done on tour
with great success. Now, if I record the Mahler symphony today, it will
have no impact whatsoever because there are so many people who have
recorded Mahler, and they certainly have a better image for it. Maybe
one day we will. But when we started recording, that was the beginning
of the crisis in the recording business, so I thought, well, we have to be
very careful to do not just another record but something which will go
to the top right away and bring us the kind of recognition which will
encourage the record company to stay with us. You know, this is very
important because to pay an orchestra today is enormously expensive.
So this combination of a mercantile approach and artistic approach I
think is very important for a music director. I'm sure Krystian doesn't
have these problems because he, himself, is a pianist; but as a music
director, I have responsibility toward the city where I work and the or-
chestra. If I want to put them on the map, I've got to play the game.
ogy they are born into but regard successive developments as a danger.
Do you see any danger from the increased application of technology to
music?
DUTOIT: Well, you see, it's not just today's problem. It has always been the
problem of the relationship between a musician and this technology,
CHARLES DUTOIT 89
and I think most musicians were very-we started this interview with
this-were very suspicious of this technology. They hated to make
records. But I personally don't see any danger. If there is any danger, it is
up to us to just react to it the right way, you know. For instance-again
I'm talking about Krystian because we're so different-he doesn't want
to record. He hates the business, and he does very few concerts. He
wants to do only what he wants, when he likes and so on. I myself am
much more open to these technologies and these things. I don't really
see danger as long as we master our own situation, and have to live with
them, you know. The digital system is just a digital system, and that's it.
What can you change?
I can answer this way. You know, thirty years ago when I was in Swit-
zerland, people were scared to death because of the Americanism. You
know, after the war we said "Oh, gee! We have our traditions, we don't
like to think about money. We are not materialistic; we are educated in
a certain way." And then we were so scared because the Americans came
over to Europe, and they had so much money, you know, and they were
talking about their wonderful houses and their wonderful refrigerators
and their televisions and all these things. We thought that was so silly,
and that was such a bad way to talk because there are other values. And
we still think the same way; but we cannot avoid the fact that now every-
body has a television, and everybody has a refrigerator, and everybody
has a car. But still we have to accept this, and we have to also accept these
new technologies. I think it's wonderful what we can do today with the
recordings, digital and compact discs, and so on. I don't know if we are
going to improve on this. I don't see how. It is so beautiful-you know,
what we can do today. But I think it would be silly for me to say that I
am against these developments, because the world is going ahead, and
we have to live with that.
Note
1. At the time Christoph von Dohnanyi was not an exclusive artist with London; now he is.
CHRISTOPHER HOGWOOD
CHRISTOPHER HOGWOOD BELONGS to a relatively new, flourishing group

of scholar-performers. Originally trained as a harpsichordist, he later
branched out into conducting, radio work, and writing. As founder of the
Academy ofAncient Music in 1973, he has played a leading role in what has
been variously described as the "original instrument" or "authentic perfor-
mance" movement.
Hogwood sees recording as both a vehicle for promoting, or at least
presenting, the ongoing scholarship in the area of authentic performance
and an opportunity for experimentation with performing practices. His
extensive discography for LOiseau-Lyre includes such items as a wide rang-
ing exploration ofVivaldi, the complete symphonies of Mozart, and a vari-
ety of compositions by Handel, his work with the latter augmented by his
in-depth study Handel, published by Thames and Hudson in 1985 for the
tercentenary of the composer's birth.
Book and author arrived in Cleveland at about the same time during the
summer of 1985. Scheduled to lead some Handel programs in June at Blos-
som, Hogwood faced the interesting challenge of training a thoroughly
modern ensemble in the niceties ofproper eighteenth-century style.Through
some extraordinary stroke ofluck, his schedule proved far lesshectic than is
the norm during the summer season, and our interview ambled along at a
leisurely pace with ample time to fully explore the issues raised. The
Beethoven symphony cycle to which he refers-the first from a "specialist"
-began appearing shortly after his Blossom concerts. J>'
BADAL: Almost every conductor I've talked to, no matter how many records
he may have made, is ambivalent about the ultimate worth of the prod-
uct. Rightly or wrongly, the public regards you as a specialist promoting
9°
CHRISTO PHE R HOGWOO D 91

of this book
Christopher Hogwood conducts the Cleveland Orchestra at the Blossom Music Center.
Phot o hy Peter Hasrings.
a specific cause as far as the perform ance of a certai n repertoi re is con-

cerned. lt occurs to me, therefore. tha t you m ight view record ings as
allies.
H O G WOO D :Yes. I'm certainly no t ambivalent about t hem . I can't see why
people should be, unless they have a particularly strong attachment co
the value of audience response. But I think audiences, the musical pub-
lic. are now very aware of what a record represent s-a type of photo -
graph ofan event . And rather like a Victorian studio pho tograph , it can
be either candi d, or posed, or superimposed, or retouched . It can be
anythi ng you want from th e mo st hones t to the most -many people
would say-s-dishonest. The ulti mate value of som e recordings is nil from
the moment they're made, as. of course, are ma ny family snap shots
negated by the simple fact of who made them and when. On the other
hand, there are many photographs which I think will live forever al-
though they were only moments in time. It depends on the power of the
photographer, the scenes, the subject, the surrounding circumstances,
the rarity, the insight it gives. One can't say now how many records will
or should survive. You can play games ofgoing on to a desert island with
ten records that you would care to live with, but these usually reflect
more on you than the records. A recording is an artifact which is not a
live performance and is only a measure of work in progress. I think for
most people-certainly everything that is being done in exploratory ar-
eas like contemporary music, like a lot of jazz, like a great deal of the
historic movement at the moment-it is merely a way of assessingwork
in process: the state of the art. For us, particularly working with early
instruments, the recording situation is a laboratory, and what comes out
of it is a laboratory report.
BADAL: Have you read Joseph Kerman's new book, Contemplating Music?
HOGWOOD: Yes, on musicology.
BADAL: In his section on authentic performance, he makes the point that
those who play authentic instruments are rarely virtuosi. If this assess-
ment is fair, doesn't this fact color the quality of what is being put out?
HOGWOOD: No! I think that was not a statistically well-based remark, and
Joe was writing, I think, on maybe the evidence of the West Coast over
the last ten or fifteen years, where, I guess, as anywhere else, there's been
a lot of well-meant but premature exposure of experiments. I think the
percentage of virtuosi to total people involved in the early music world
is at least as high if not, I would estimate, considerably higher than the
percentage of virtuosi to the norm in the conventional conservatoire
world. There is one Pollini, one Michelangelo for ten thousand concert
pianists in the normal concert world, whereas there is one Malcolm Bilson,
and one or two other names one can think of, in proportion to some-
thing like twenty or twenty-five professional fortepianists in the world.
BADAL: I remember when Eugen Jochum conducted one of our American
chamber ensembles in either Mozart or Haydn, at least one critic com-
plained that American groups seem to feel that rhythm in that repertoire
must be treated very rigidly.
HOGWOOD: Oh, yes. I think everybody knits his own authenticity, and
what is in fashion now is obviously not going to be in fashion in twenty
years' time. So I would give no greater kudos to the current work in
CHRISTOPHER HaGWOOD 93
recording. It's not a contribution forever. It is a symptom of the state of

mind and competence and ambitions of certain individuals at the mo-
ment, and the fact that some happen to have taken on a platform of
historical awareness with historical instruments is no different than a
jazz player who has taken on a particular style of improvising or a sym-
phony orchestra which has taken on a particular music director and a
particular way of exploiting scores of Schubert or Berlioz or Bartok or
whomever. People listen nowadays to what Mengelberg did with the
Concertgebouw or what Neville Marriner did with the Academy of St.
Martin's or what "authentic performance," in quotes, did ten or fifteen
years ago. I listen to things we did ourselves, and I blush to think that we
thought this was the last word. It wasn't. It was the first and only word
available in 1973 on that particular line of thought, and it stands no
more elevated than that.
BADAL: Our conception ofwhat an authentic performance is seems to have
changed radically in the last couple of years. I can remember twenty
years ago when Karl Richter was looked upon as the last word in Bach
scholarship. Today, he is regarded as very old fashioned-someone on
the right track, but only two or three notches above Leopold Stokowski.
HaGWOOD: But highly musical! I think that's one of the first tests. Authen-
ticity is a shorthand for a number ofconcepts, some ofwhich have come
to the front, I think, only in the last ten years or so. The thought of
original instruments carries favor for some people, you know, real an-
guish to others, and what one is encouraging all along the way is a dis-
tinction of vocabulary. Richter was playing Bach to people on perfectly
modern instruments, but in a way that did not make it sound as though
they could, with equal ease, have been playing T chaikovsky. He made a
distinction between the Romantic repertoire and the Baroque repertoire.
BADAL: Do you think the existence of records aids in the evolution of our
conceptions?
HaGWOOD: It seems to speed it because more people hear your experiment
within the first year who previously would have to wait perhaps five
years to hear it in the flesh. So records are a sort ofvisiting card, and they
do announce your experimental intentions or discoveriesto a lot ofpeople
who mayor may not accept them. I think the fact that symphony or-
chestras in America, for instance, have increasingly shown an interest
over the last ten years or so in developing a vocabulary and style suitable
to earlier periods without changing their basic instruments is very much
related to the fact that the members of these orchestras and their publics
have heard the results of these experiments, probably from Europe, and
have decided that the change in vocabulary is important.
BADAL: Isn't it a little more difficult to realize that change ofvocabulary on
a modern instrument? A friend of mine who is a pianist said that when
he first played Bach on a harpsichord, it seemed so easy. All the problems
he faced when playing Bach on a piano disappeared when he played on
a harpsichord.
HOGWOOD: One has a problem of limitation. I would hate to say things
suddenly become easy when you play them on the right instrument; but
you certainly know that the success, your success, at following the indi-
cations in the musical shorthand that the composer leaves you is more
assured, because at least he was writing signs on paper that related to the
mechanisms and sounds that you have in front of you. There is no way
that Bach could have given you suitable marks on a page for interpreta-
tion on a Steinway grand.
BADAC That's another point that Kerman makes, that even playing
Beethoven on a contemporary piano produces problems.
HOGWOOD: Exactly! Well, I mean, even playing Debussy on a contempo-
rary piano or Chopin is a very different affair from what they had in
mind. We are going to have twentieth-century ears whatever is done by
way of performance. We have heard Stravinsky, and there is no way we
are not going to hear Stravinsky. Therefore, all the Bach we listen to is
with post-Stravinsky ears; but I think there is a great virtue in giving, for
instance, Bach credit for being a great man, not only in terms of how he
composed but in his ability to deal with material available to him. You
don't despise Rembrandt for using the painting materials of his time.
You don't wish that he had acrylics and fluorescent paints. He worked
ideally within the natural limitations of the materials available, and it's
this working within specified limits, like writing a sonnet in fourteen
lines, that's important. Things aren't helped by expanding the sonnet to
150 lines. You don't get a better sonnet; you get a different poem. I don't
think there is essentially anything gained by according Bach all the later,
the post-Industrial Revolution aspects ofinstrument technology because
he was writing within a circumscribed area, and he wanted to use that
full field. Mozart wrote concerti for a piano which he himself describes
as a perfect instrument. One mustn't weep and regret that poor Mozart
didn't have a Steinway grand, because he tells us exactly the opposite. He
CHRISTOPHER HOGWOOD 95
was very happy with what he had. But he did use it to its full. He used its
lowest note and its highest note frequently. I don't know when the last
time was that anyone pianist has had to use the very bottom note of a
Steinway or the very top note, but you could safely cover an octave at
either end of the modern grand and nobody would be any worse off. It
seems to me that the mechanism has run away from the actual musical
requiremen t.
BADAL: Did recordings play any role in YOut early musical education?
HOGWOOD: Yes. I now regard recordings more as a library for reference
than as a source of pleasure. I'm a little bit biased in this, in that I spent
twelve years doing a weekly one-hour program for the BBC that was run
on recorded music, taking all sorts ofthemes for talks which I very much
enjoyed doing; but it did force one to listen to an extraordinary number
of records per week, often just to find out how long they lasted. You'd
discover they lasted a little bit too long, so you couldn't use them on the
program. So in fact I rather supersaturated myself with recorded experi-
ence.
Now, I will buy recordings as reference. I would like to know what
Simon Rattle was doing with his last Janacek, his last Sibelius, whatever;
I wi11listen to it once, then stash it away, and maybe run for it some
other time when I want it as reference. But I will rarely settle down to a
recorded program, as it were, for an evening's entertainment. What I
will do very frequently, more and more frequently now, is use recordings
as musical examples in the course ofconversation when people are at my
home. I particularly calIon more and more early recordings: for in-
stance, play Elgar conducting his own Cello Concerto if you want to
talk to people about why authentic performance means more than Bach.
It's within living memory. Early Stravinsky recordings as opposed to late
Stravinsky! The transfers of someone like Moritz Rosenthal, pupil of
Liszt, playing on piano roles, now transferred to records via the medium
of the perfectly modern, unembarrassingly grand piano. Fantastic!
BADAL: Or Emil Sauer playing the two Liszt concerti!
HOGWOOD: That's right, that's right! I'm just working on the Grieg Piano
Concerto to do with the L.A. Philharmonic. I've been working through
the two recordings ofPerey Grainger, who Grieg said played the concerto
better than anybody he ever knew. You have two recordings made by
Grainger late in his life, one with Stokowski, and the very early piano
role recordings of him playing the cadenza as a sort of control on what
the late recordings contain. By pooling all of these, you can begin to see
what was consistent, what was intended, what his performing style in
this piece was. There's a vast difference from the way that piece is treated
nowadays. All this should be used as a model, together with the model
edition he made for Schirmer's of that piece, to institute a sense of
historical propriety about an old warhorse. But on the whole, the idea of
approaching an orchestra or a pianist with any philosophy of treating
the Grieg Concerto as an historical piece requiring musicology is
unheard of.
BADAL: Youraisean interesting point. The authentic performance movement
seems to have worked its way up through early Beethoven and then
stopped. You'll have a scholar somewhere sweating over a Bach manuscript
trying to figure out what Bach intended, yet he will show no interest in
a recording of Furrwangler conducting a Bruckner symphony-a man
born into the age when that music was new.
HaGWOOD: Yes, I must say I agree with you that it has worked forward
from the Renaissance and Baroque eras. Scholarship, Germanic scholar-
ship, was very medieval- and Renaissance-based for a long time, and it
has gradually moved forward chronologically. I don't have any feeling
that they've stopped. I mean, it was only a little while ago it was unheard
of to think of playing Mozart on anything other than modern instru-
ments, but Bach was OK. Fine!Youcould play Bach on the harpsichord,
but the idea of a Steinway piano for Mozart, even his own Steinway
piano, was out of the question. Who would dream of playing Mozart on
anything other than a Steinway? Now things have changed. I've made
records of Mendelssohn and Schubert on original instruments. I think
authentic performance is an ongoing interest. There's a magazine been
founded, Nineteenth Century Music, which examines these questions.
The repertoire is there; the public knows it; the musicologists are work-
ing on it. And you get occasional articles, like in Music and Letters last
year, analyzing where string players who played for Brahms were in-
clined to put vibrato when playing the piano quartet or the Piano Quin-
tet. This was analyzed, and it was a very interesting thing. And it relies
suddenly on recorded evidence from the beginning of the century. But I
don't think there's a dead end. I think there's maybe a feeling that before
we launch too firmly into the nineteenth century with rules and regula-
tions and pronouncements, we have got to digest an enormous amount
of information.
BADAL: Of course, the nineteenth century would be the wrong place for
rules and regulations per se.
HaGWOOD: No! I think in terms of history you can as easily analyze the
nineteenth as you can the fourteenth.
BADAL: Isn't the performance of the music of any age something like the
study oflinguistics? Linguistic theory saysthat there is no right or wrong,
there is only what the majority of the people do at a given time.
HaGWOoD: Yes, that's the French Academy view; but there is good gram-
mar and bad grammar. There is even more so, not only in linguistics but
in literature, the general questionof communicationor noncommunication.
If you begin to use words in such a way that they mean nothing to the
people hearing these words, you have failed as a communicator; and
then very shortly afterwards, I think linguistics will prove you wrong,
too. I think there is a right and wrong, but then there is also stylish
usage and unstylish usage. These things change, but they are very much
the symptoms of a growing vocabulary and a feeling of the application
of fashion to art, which is very important. Art has abstract standards,
and fashion has definable moods, and I think it's the interface of these
two that gives you, in any period, the individual voice of the creator first
and then the power of a group, a movement, a school, a nationality, a
style. One knows perfectly well that Vienna is never going to be the
same as Berlin, and Berlin is never going to be the same as Moscow, and
none of them the same as New York. There is a language always appro-
priate to their art which will reflect many things symptomatic of that
particular spot in time. What I find very upsetting is that, despite the
congruence of all these particular disciplines at one time which makes
the development of an art a possibility, if you miss out on one or two of
these ingredients, then that art might never have taken place. If you had
not had a Christian religion, there would be a great blank where we now
find this enormous corpus of early church music. If you end up with a
period which is only five percent Christian, as nowadays, you have to
reestablish some sort of feeling that a cathedral building was conceived
ofas the right place for the performance ofcertain repertoire, and there-
fore the acoustics of that building, whether or not you believe in its
religious tenets, are implicit in that music and its performance.
BADAL: The Berlioz Requiem, for example.
HaGWOOD: The Berlioz Requiem is of a scale and size that only suits cer-
tain buildings. You are under an obligation not only to play the notes he
wrote but, I think, to assemble the instruments he intended and the

acoustics he had in mind. This is all council of perfection.
BADAL: Do you find historical performances ofBaroque repertoire on records
interesting? Is there anything to be learned from Schweitzer and
Landowska playing Bach or from Mengelberg and Furrwangler perform-
ing the St. Matthew Passion?
HaGWOOD: Absolutely, yes. I love listening to them as a musician, and
speaking as a harpsichordist, of course, I wouldn't be here ifLandowska
hadn't existed, so there's a certain reverence there. Speaking as an histo-
rian, I am obviously more interested the closer the recorded document is
to the original creation. Therefore, if I can hear somebody playing on
record who did play for Brahms, and he is playing Brahms's music, I rate
that very high as an historical document. If that same person then plays
the Bach Chaconne, well I know he never met Bach and in fact is quite
a long way away from the Bach ideal as we have established it by other
forms of back-bearing on this problem. It therefore doesn't rank so high
as an historical document; it may rank very high as a musical document.
But I think if you have firsthand source material-I mean, we have
Stravinsky conducting his own works on record.
BADAL: Unfortunately, most of the ones that survive are the later record-
mgs.
HaGWOOD: Some, yes. But I think it is now valid to use these recordings as
in the past you would have used a later, corrected manuscript from
Mozart. If he wrote three versions of a piece, you would take the last
written version and say, "This is valid evidence for what he intended."
With Stravinsky you find he sometimes changed speeds, dynamics, even
notes in the recordings that never got back into print. There are several
works, of course, which are riddled with misprints anyway, and the only
way of checking what he really meant is to hear what he recorded-just
because he never went back and corrected the printed version. I found
doing Dumbarton Oaks an awful lot of omissions in that piece. And
misconceptions and curious misreadings have occurred which can be
put right, partly by studying the original-which doesn't seem to have
been looked at closely for quite a long while-and partly by consulting
the recordings where Stravinsky does go back on some of the things
which are in print.
BADAL: Music is an art that exists in time. If you were to conduct the same
piece twice in a row, the second performance would be different from
the first. I am tempted to think that Baroque music, which relies so

much on improvisation and ornamentation, may be aesthetically less
suited to phonographic reproduction than something like a Brahms sym-
phony, because at least the score ofa Brahms symphony is set; there is no
improvisation.
HOGWOOD: Yes, I quite agree. I think as a philosophical question it's abso-
lutely valid. Music was not meant to be trapped in time and repeated
exactly, and therefore we are doing something unnatural and only avail-
able through twentieth-century technology. I noticed somebody very
recently suggested in print that the follow-up to the compact disc was
going to be the variable recording with a sort ofrandom selection mecha-
nism inside, and the disc would actually contain seven or eight perfor-
mances, amongst which the random selector would jump, so that you
might never get the same performance ofthe second subject as you'd had
of the first subject. I think it is, to my mind, only a practical problem,
since recording is, as I say, a photograph ofan event, and sure, the event
would take place differently the next day. But recordings will restrain
you in certain ways. You put your finger on things like improvisation
and embellishment and so on. I personally try to restrain all the people
who work with me when we record, and the performances we put on
disc will tend to go for the lower end of the scale of exuberance.
BADAL: Might that be because it will repeat more effectively more often?
HOGWOOD: Yes! Ifyou take these wild risks and do a fantastic cadenza in a
live performance, the audience will stand and cheer, and you will think,
"Thank goodness that worked! What a marvelous thing!" If you hear it
twenty-five times in succession on a disc, it begins to lose its effect. Or
even worse, I think it begins to color your memory of the piece; so the
next time you hear somebody doing it, you sense a lack of that particular
cadenza which you've grown used to. So I think it's best to be minimal
about your additions, to be restrained. I'm often criticized for being rather
laid back and cool and precise in recordings but not often in live perfor-
mances, because I will allow performances to take their head much more
than I would allow a recording to take its head and then embarrass us for
another twenty years.
BADAL: Let me ask you a very practical question. In your book Handel, you
point out that the orchestration of his Messiah changed from the Dublin
premiere to the first performance in London and that much of the score
exists in several different variants. And of course, there is always the
ongoing debate over how big or how small the performing apparatus
should be. When you made your recording of Messiah, how did you
decide exactly what you were going to record?
HOGWOOD: One's ambition should be, at least in my mind, not to produce
a mongrel that never existed. Handel wrote the piece, and it stands,
together with many eighteenth-century pieces, as a popular work that
turned up again and again, each time taking a different turning accord-
ing to the geography that year: availability of singers, place, money, all
the rest of it. You can define these fairly closely. The Messiah went, in
Handel's mind, through a number of stages, most of them document-
able, and you can fairly easily say, "I am giving, as far as historical evi-
dence will allow me, a representation of the first performance in Dublin,
the first London performance, the performance of 1745, of 1749." The
edition I made for Neville Marriner several years back was based on the
first London version; therefore, certain pieces were in, certain other pieces
were out. The version I did with my own orchestra for LOiseau-Lyre
was based on the version left with the Foundling Hospital in Handel's
will-so therefore the last performing material which he left behind.
BADAL: Why did you pick that one?
HOGWOOD: I picked that because it is well documented. Not only do we
have the score and the individual parts, but we have the account books,
the checkbooks that tell you how many people were paid and how much
they were paid. We know how many violins were paid, how many violas,
how many oboes. You find, mysteriously, they paid for two horns. What
did they play? They didn't pay them for nothing, I'm quite sure. They
could have been used for interval bells. It was a very normal thing in the
eighteenth century to summon the audience back after the interval with
a horn fanfare. It was also normal eighteenth-century practice when you
had horns to double the trumpets the octave lower, which is what we in
fact did on the recording.
BADAL: I read recently, and it rather surprised me, that Georg Solti con-
sulted with you before he made his recording of Messiah. Is that true?
HOGWOOD: Yes! We had long talks about this. He was very interested in
what musicology had to offer, how it could solve practical problems, and
to what extent you could disregard it. I was to a certain extent of the
mind that if you are working with perfectly modern orchestra and cho-
rus, it would be very nice to see the revival of a non-Handelian version:
the Beecham-Goosens version or Sir Michael Costas-some of these
CHRISTOPHER HaGWOOD 101
things that we don't know about. But on the other hand, that could
rather fracture some of the most important elements in the piece.
BADAL: I remember that Beecham-Goosens Messiah.
HOGWOOD: It's a very impressive bit of orchestration, and so long as it's not
pretending to be Handel, I'm very happy with it. I haven't heard the
result of the Solti recording, but the conversations with him, I found,
were fascinating. His insight into the problems and the questions that
had immediately struck him about the score were very valid, and to tell
the truth, some of them cannot be answered by musicology. They are
still open questions of performance and style, and have to be solved
individually. I mean, we don't have chapter and verse for the half of the
things people imagine musicologists have answers for. A lot of it, I'm
glad to say, still relies on personal taste, ability, and artistry.
BADAL: I can't imagine two people of such differing traditions conducting
the Messiah as you and Georg Solti. I remember thinking something
similar when you were recording the Mozart symphonies, because if I
remember correctly, at that time the only other complete set was Karl
Bohm's. What do they bring-Bohm to Mozart, Solti to Handel-that's
different from what you would bring?
HOGWOOD: Well, obviously the weight of a long tradition ofsomething. As
I said, I haven't heard the Solti recording. The Bohm recordings ofMozart,
which I know, are the result of a very long tradition of playing styles and
Bohms approach to music in general. It's a personal vocabulary. Bruno
Walter did the same. You deduce it rather more clearly in the case of
Bruno Walter from the recordings of rehearsals that he left. You hear
him doing the "Linz" Symphony and how he put the Bruno Walter
mark on those particular notes. I'm fascinated by all that sort of evi-
dence, because it shows how malleable music is. But one thing which is
obviously lacking by definition in the recent early music revival is tradi-
tion. We are always working on new stuff. I'm in the middle ofrecording
the Beethoven symphonies.
BADAL: I didn't know that.
HOGWOOD: I think the First and Second come out this year sometime, and
I shall be home in a month or so doing the "Eroica."
BADAL: Are these going to be authentic?
HOGWOOD: They will be with all Beethoven instruments, corrected texts,
and everything else. Beethoven is the cutting edge for the moment of
this sort of experiment. I think it will be very interesting. I hope it will
be a catalyst to a lot ofsimilar experiments. But one cannot bring to bear

the weight of a lifetime's experience of performing the "Eroica" in this
style, which is what you get from the majority of other recordings, be-
cause it doesn't exist.
BADAL: Since our conceptions of performing Beethoven still tend to be
rather late-nineteenth century, it will be very interesting to see how these
will be received.
HOGWOOD: Yes! Well, there's still a shudder in some quarters when one
mentions Beethoven in this context, as there was when we first men-
tioned Mozart five years ago. And when we've done Beethoven and
Schubert symphonies, the next candidate is obviously the Berlioz
Symphonie fantastique. People shudder at that: authentic Berlioz? But he
wrote a whole book on orchestration. He very explicitly understood the
capacities and capabilities of each of those instruments as they existed in
the 1820S.
BADAL: You seem to favor a chronological approach.
HOGWOOD: Yes! We found it worked very well with Mozart. When we hit
the "Jupiter" Symphony, it was the last Mozart symphony we played,
and we had the experience of going through all the discoveries of the
earlier symphonies, which is something akin to how Mozart's own play-
ers must have worked. Many of them were Baroque musicians.
BADAL: Wouldn't there be a further practical consideration? Few know those
early symphonies.
HOGWOOD: We certainly didn't.
BADAL: Wouldn't you encounter less resistance to your approach from the
public by beginning with the earlier symphonies?
HOGWOOD: I don't think I feel very bound in to what people are used to
anyway.When it's built into the musicians, then it's a different question.
If you work with musicians with no going authentic vocabulary, only
the traditional approach, and you start on a traditional symphony such
as the "Jupiter" or the G Minor, then the danger is that the discoveries
you might have made in Mozart phraseology by starting on less well
known works without this inbred tradition will be missed, because you
will fall into just the way that is familiar, already in your mind's ear. So I
think it's logical to go for the "unsolid" repertoire first and move for-
wards. But you can't avoid the problem with Beethoven. My orchestra
and I come to Beethoven with a repertoire of devices deduced from the
workings of Mozart and Haydn and limited, to a certain extent, by our
experience with Schubert as a sort of control on the other end. But the
field in between, the last of the Haydns and the first of the Schuberts, is
entirely uncharted. Yetthe sounds of those symphonies are very familiar
to everyone in their traditional versions. What tends to immediately
shock everyone, of course, is any suggestion that, for example, the
Beethoven metronome might have been right. Yousay to yourself, "Right,
play the finale at the speed he marked!" And then, to your surprise, you
find that, with the size band that he used and the instruments that we
have, it's possible to do it. It is not unmusical. It is certainly fast. But we
assume his players could play it, and it's a challenge to us to play it as
well.
BADAL: How do you feel about digital sound?
HOGWOOD: I'm not a hi-fi person. I'm almost anti-hi-fi, to the despair of
engineers and so on, but I am very impressed by the later developments
like the compact disc. That seems to be a major easing of the transition
from the actual sounds the musicians make to the ears of the consumer.
BADAL: Won't technology, to a certain extent, determine which performances
will survive? Bohm recorded some of the later Mozart symphonies with
the Vienna Philharmonic after the Berlin Philharmonic set had been
completed. They are not as good as the ones in the Berlin set, but they
will probably survive because they are newer.
HOGWOOD: Well, not necessarily. I think in that case what a man is often
doing is laying down the groundwork of his own biography. What you
have ftom these people is a point-by-point description oftheir own powers
and their own views on music through their lives. I love the idea that
people record the same piece three or four times. I mean, Brendel has
covered the same ground quite a few times, as have Harnoncourt and
Karajan. You can pick up, you know, three different recordings of the
Brandenburgs from Harnoncourt with ten years between each, and they're
fascinating documents. I don't think it's so much based on which is bet-
ter or worse any more than we can say nowadays which is the better
pyramid or which is the worse pyramid. The fact that the Pyramids were
built at all and have survived gives us remarkable insight into that pe-
riod-its achievements, its ambitions, its technology.
BADAL: Are you comfortable in the recording studio?
HOGWOOD: I love the recording studio, yes.
BADAL: There are some musicians who are not.
HOGWOOD: Sure, I know! There are some, of course, like Glenn Gould,
who are almost more comfortable there than at a public concert. This is
a matter of temperament. But I regard it as a laboratory, and I'm very
grateful to be given so well-equipped a laboratory so frequently to work
on material which one knows at the start is of such value. You are using
the medium as something different from your live performance. One of
the things you can do with it is play greater experiments. Try this, that,
and the other! Assemble companies of instruments that would never be
seen in a live performance! I mean, a museum will maybe part with a
rare instrument for two or three days to make a recording which they
would never, never let you take on a concert tour or leave the country
with. So I can record with original eighteenth-century instruments
something I could never perform on a concert with those same
instruments. I therefore will seize my opportunity in a three-hour session
and say, "Here for the first, perhaps last time, I have a whole set of
eighteenth-century oboes, bassoons, and a contrabassoon, the one that
Handel actually saw and heard." I shall make sure that I don't just do
one through-take of the piece with the contra and leave it at that, but I
will experiment with the contra in various octaves, various placements,
various styles, to make sure I have got the most out of that particular
experiment. In retrospect, I will then decide what fits the bill best in
terms of the whole performance. But the outtakes are not necessarily
disgraces; they are discarded experiments. I find the recording
environment is, in fact, a very creative one.
BADAL: I suppose there are not many recording companies that would will-
ingly pay you for your experimentation.
HOGWOOD: Well, I'm not sure it is, as you imply, wasteful.
BADAL: From my point of view it's not wasteful, but there must be some-
body who is simply looking at the bottom line.
HOGWOOD: Well, no! We actually get onto tape as much as the Academy of
St. Martin's, which is certainly not an experimental orchestra, gets onto
tape. We get the twelve to fifteen minutes' worth of finished music, plus
the experiments out of a three-hour English recording session. What I
don't have to do with these players is debate style and so on. I mean,
with a modern orchestra I have to put in all the trills for them. I never
have to waste time with that with stylistic players, because it's second
nature. They speak the language. So I can then go on to another stage of
experimentation-time which might have been used on some other kind
of experiment with a modern orchestra.
BADAL: Would you call yourself an adherent to the principle of the long
take?
HOGWOOD: Yes! Ofcourse, having covered the repertoire that we have cov-
ered, there are not many pieces that will even last twenty minutes. But,
yes, one gives performances. However, I am not in the least bit embar-
rassed, in fact I'm very intrigued, by the power of the engineer and the
editor to splice and edit, especially when there is, as Joe Kerman rather
rudely suggests, an audible incompetence on the part of the player that
has to be overcome with the razor blade. But unless there is an audible
musical deficiency in something put together, I no more object to an
edited record than I object to an edited film. Nobody imagines they're
going to the cinema to see a straight shoot. It is edited.
ogy they are born into but regard succeeding developments as danger-
ous. Do you see any danger from the increased application of technol-
ogy to music?
HOGWOOD: I must say that, treated with the right philosophical outlook,
which is "The music comes first, the technology second," I see no dan-
ger whatsoever. I think technology is a wonderful implement to have. I
wouldn't agree with the theorists there. There was no feeling on the part
of the early pianists, like Mozart and Beethoven, that the piano they
began with was the ultimate and that every later piano was a threat; it
was quite the reverse.They wanted the technical improvements because
they wanted to speak a language that was developing. And so every note
that was added to the range of the keyboard, every new mechanical de-
vice put there, they utilized. They didn't backspace and say that an im-
proved piano was what was required for their earlier music; they related
to the state of the art as it developed. But there was no threat; there was
an expanding horizon. I see exactly the same happening in the electronic
media. I mean, one knows perfectly well that digital recording is encod-
ing far more information about a musical performance than can yet be
reproduced by the present state of loudspeakers. So the capturing is, at
the moment, ahead of the reproduction, and I look forward to the march
of progress in reproduction over the next twenty years which will in-
creasingly bring more and more to my ears out of those compact discs.
The fact that compact discs are not indestructible but a great deal less
prone to destruction than previous types of media seems to me, again,
no threat whatsoever, but a positive benefit.
BADAL: If we follow your line of thought to its logical or, perhaps, illogical
conclusion, don't we arrive at a point where what is coming out of a
speaker can never be duplicated at a live concert? In his second book The
Composer's Advocate, Erich Leinsdorf talks about the man who goes to a
live concert and doesn't like it because it doesn't sound like his stereo
system.
HaGWOOD: Exactly!You have a lot of people like that, and there are a lot of
people who should strictly be defined as hi-fi enthusiasts rather than
music enthusiasts. This is not, in any way, the problem of the technol-
ogy or the musician, I'm glad to say; it's a problem of those doing the
listening. There may be people who prefer high-color reproductions of
works of art to going to museums to see those works of art. There may
originally have been people who felt that the printed book was an insult
to the written word. It was true the printed book did not look like the
written word. But it wasn't pretending to; it was doing another job. And
I think the art and science of recording are quite a different business
from the art and science of giving a performance. It is carte blanche, I
think, to take the philosophical stance you wish in relation to a musical
work. A Mozart symphony belongs to nobody; it mercifully can be killed
by nobody, do what you like. The obligation is on you to perform music
rather than to shut it away in a bank vault and not look at it. It would be
a crime, I think, given the choice between performing music in any way
and not performing it, to choose the second course. You have to per-
form. You may willingly change your style of performance, your objec-
tives in performance, but your relationship is always primarily with the
composer's evidence and, to my mind, also with the historical evidence.
After that, you go through a number ofchambers controlled by different
magicians en route to the listener. One of these particular magicians is,
of course, the media man. But he's only one chamber. I think we want
the true word to come through as clearly as possible from the original
creator to the individual ear.
VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY
PIANIST VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY took up the baton rather late in his career.
He therefore shares with colleague and friend Daniel Barenboim the rather
unusual distinction of having recorded portions of the concerto literature
first as soloist and later as conductor. Both also released competing sets of
the Beethoven piano concerti, playing and conducting from the keyboard.
Although hardly an unknown quantity when he turned to conducting,
Ashkenazy and London Records faced the same repertoire problems that
plague any younger maestro trying to establish a reputation through work in
the studio. The Russian repertoire seemed an obvious choice; and Ashkenazy
has made some notable recordings of Rachmaninov, Shostakovich, and
Prokofiev, the complete rendition of the latter's ballet Cinderella with the
Cleveland Orchestra proving especially impressive.
Other choices, however, seemed more questionable. The quality of the
interpretations is reallynot the issue, and one can admire Ashkenazy'scourage
for facing the competition-heavy in collections ofStrauss tone poems and
Debussy-Ravel orchestral works, ferocious in Beethoven and Brahms sym-
phonies. Given the extraordinary glut in these areas of the repertoire, how-
ever, will the same audience that buys him playing Brahms on the piano
buy him conducting the same composer from the podium? Perhaps in an
effort to give his Brahms symphony cyclesome visibility,London has coupled
some of the individual symphony recordings with short Dvorak selections
rather than the standard Brahms overtures.
I interviewed Vladimir Ashkenazy in July of 1985 during his appearance
at Blossom. The ancillary building behind the orchestra pavilion is a sterile,
concrete affair, but at least it offers air-conditioned comfort on hot, humid
summer days. Ashkenazy, however, opted instead for a lovely pastoral set-
ting under a large tree. ...",
10 7
108 R £ C O RD I N G T HE C LASSIC S
To view this im age, pl ease r efer to th e print version

of this book
Vladimir Ashkenazy conduces the Cleveland Orc hestra. Photo by Peter Hasti ngs.
BADAL: Any conductor your age growing up in rhe West wou ld have had
records available to h im as parr of his musical education. Did you have
records available to you as parr of your musical training in (he Soviet
Union?
A 'i HKEN AZY: Yes, yes! There were many records released, too, bu t not as
many as in the West, and basically oriented to Russian and Soviet music.
T he LPs camc-cof course, everything came later than in the West. They
don't tend to invent things. T hey don'( seem to be so technologically
minded , you sec. So the LPs came several years after they did in the
West, and stereo came mu ch larcr than in th e WeSt. And , of course. the
variety of repertoire was limited, as I already said. and basically orien ted
to the Russian and Soviet music, with some exceptions. of course. But
the lion's share was the ind igenous music. which is, in a way. under-
standable. T hat present ed one of the problems, of co urse. But I was one
of the lucky ones because I traveled to the West, and I bought all the
things that I needed in the West, you see. $0 for me, my record collec-
rion was extremely important.
BADAL: Were there any that particularly impressed you?
As H K £NAZY: Oh, there were so many that I could n't single our one o r two.
I was very keen on learning new repertoire th at we d idn't have in Russia.
VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY 109
At that time, for instance, Stravinsky wasn't allowed to be played, you

know. So I bought Petrushka, TheRite ofSpring, TheFirebird, and other
pieces by Stravinsky. And we couldn't find, for instance, a good record-
ing of Debussy's La Mer, or even one at all. As I say, the stress was always
on the Russian or Soviet music. So the rest of the repertoire didn't seem
to have a lot of variety, and there wasn't much option.
BADAL: Would there be essentially Russian performers as well?
ASHKENAZY: Also yes, at that time. But you know, in the intervening years
since I left, the situation has changed, and I think there are more-I
think they buy some tapes and release them on Russian records. And
sometimes they do pirating you know, and release them on the Soviet
label.
BADAL: It works both ways.
AsHKENAZY: It works both ways, of course. So now there is much more
variety, both in repertoire and in performers, too. But the main stress is
still on the Russian music, I'm sure.
BADAL: Was it much ofa shock when you heard Western performance styles?
AsHKENAZY: Yes! I think it was a pleasant shock. Basically, the orchestral
playing was on quite a different level altogether-not to be compared
with the level of Russian orchestras at that time, except maybe the
Leningrad Philharmonic. Even that's a limited orchestra, but a wonder-
ful orchestra.
BADAL: There are some old Mravinsky recordings with the Leningrad Phil-
harmonic that are just wonderful.
ASHKENAZY: Yes, some of them are really very, very good. But the repertoire
was very, very limited, and the scope of expression, to my taste, also was
limited. But what they did in their area of repertoire, they did very well.
It was a very, very good group. Now it's changed a lot, so I don't know
what they are like now.
BADAL: There are stories in the West that after World War II, the Russian
army took tapes from the Berlin radio archives, and so there are
Furrwangler performances available in the Soviet Union that are not
available in the West.
ASHKENAZY: I'm not quite sure, because I haven't been back for more than
twenty years. Maybe there are some available. When I was there still-
that's up till 1963-1 remember they did release a few of Furrwangler's
records, but those I found in the West as well.'
BADAL: Is the historical aspect of recordings very important to you?
IIO RECORDING THE CLASSICS
ASHKENAZY: Difficult to say! You know, times have changed so much that
when I hear-I couldn't say that I don't learn anything when I listen to
some performances that were considered great at the time, but I can't say
I'm often very enamored of those performances. I can appreciate certain
qualities, but I learn more from some of today's performances, basically
of the times closer to us. I think, I don't know, the attitude is less affected
today, more straight somehow, more to the point, and I like that.
BADAL: I recently heard Oskar Fried's performance ofMahler's Second Sym-
phony, and it's amazing to hear how free the style was.
AsHKENAZY: Oh, that, of course! That was the style then. Much too much!
It's quite unnecessary, I think. Music liveswithout those affectations very
well-some phrasings, tempos, and some exaggerations that are quite
unnecessary. Music doesn't really need those. That's why I say I very
often appreciate certain things like intensity of performance, commit-
ment, and the ability to communicate, but not so often other quali-
ties-other purely musical qualities, you know, like phrasing or tempo,
all these unnecessary affectations. These I don't like, really.
BADAL: Do you use recordings professionally?
ASHKENAZY: Yes, I do. When I learn a piece, I usually check myself if I
know it well by playing a recording.
BADAL: Since you came to conducting rather late, do you use recordings
more than someone who began his career as a conductor?
ASHKENAZY: I wouldn't know. How can I compare? Yousee, I don't separate
myself-conductor or pianist or whatever. I'm a musician. I'm inter-
ested in music. I love music. It's my life. And even before I began to
conduct, I knew so many performances ofso many different pieces. You
know, recordings played a very major role in my life, in my interest in
music. So now, for instance, maybe I have to learn a symphony that I've
heard a few hundred times and have ten versions of at home. I already
know what it sounds like. I even remember some performances. So how
can you ask me whether I use recordings or not? It's a continuing pro-
cess. As I say, the way I use recordings now, when I learn a piece, I will
playa recording and see whether I really learned it or not-that I haven't
omitted something, you know. Once or twice I might listen to a perfor-
mance that I've listened to before hut don't remember very well. I want
to see what I thought of it before, what I think of it now. I might incor-
porate something into my own understanding of the piece; I might re-
ject it completely.
VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY III
BADAL: Some musicians say that when you use recordings, there's a danger
that you'll learn the performance and not the piece of music.
ASHKENAZY: Well, that's why I say that I first learn the piece, and then I
playa recording to check whether I know it or not. That doesn't mean
I'll conduct it the way I heard it.
BADAL: Many musicians feel that it's dangerous for young musicians to use
recordings. Kurt Masur feels that young conductors may imitate what
they hear on records, and Erich Leinsdorf says they may even be in-
clined to do the opposite of what they hear.
ASHKENAZY: I don't know. It depends on the individual. It depends on
how strong an idea you have about the piece you're going to perform. If
you don't have a strong idea, then you might be influenced. It depends
on your character and your degree of commitment, I suppose on the
strength of your concept abour the piece. And what is the difference
between a recording or a live performance? If the same conductor con-
ducted a live performance and a recording, they might be the same;
they might not be the same.
BADAL: Do you conduct differently for a recording than for a live perfor-
mance?
ASHKENAZY: No, I don't think so.
BADAL: The same.
ASHKENAZY: Yes, of course.
BADAL: If you were to conduct the same piece twice in a row, the second
performance would be different from the first.
ASHKENAZY: I suppose so.
BADAL: But a recording will always be the same. Some musicians are both-
ered by that. Does it bother you?
ASHKENAZY: No. Why should it bother me? It's a fact oflife. Why should it
bother me? We record something, and we try to do our best.
BADAL: Do you like the long take?
ASHKENAZY: Of course. We do a whole piece first, and then see what we
need, you know. Imperfections and things like that need to be covered.
Symphonies we do movement by movement. Ifyou have to go back to a
movement, it's difficult for everybody to get into the atmosphere again.
BADAL: Do you like working in a recording studio?
ASHKENAZY: Very much.
BADAL: Some musicians don't.
ASHKENAZY: Well, it depends on the individual. I've done so much. I don't
II2 RECORDING THE CLASSICS
really think there is any difference between a live performance and a

recording. A recording has also to be full of spontaneity.
BADAL: Isn't that harder to achieve in a studio than at a live performance?
ASHKENAZY: Well, if the music doesn't inspire you, then that's your prob-
lem, I think. Music has to inspire you, and not the fact that it is a public
performance, you see. Otherwise, why are we musicians if we can per-
form only when there are people listening? In any case, there is an audi-
ence, even at a recording session. First of all, there is a producer and a
producing team; secondly, usually a couple of friends from the orchestra
or whatever. They're quite a few people, usually. In any case, if there is
one person listening, still you are playing-even if there is nobody lis-
tening, you know eventually someone will be listening to it, to your
performance, so you have to give the same degree of communicative-
ness, so to speak, the same degree of commitment and spontaneity as if
you play it for an audience.
BADAL: There was a time when orchestras had very specific national charac-
teristics. That doesn't seem to be quite so true today. I wonder if records
played any role in this.
ASHKENAZY: I can't comment on this very much. I still hear very different
sounds when I conduct different orchestras. Maybe you are right, but I
don't really know to what degree this is correct. I hear the individual
sounds, I must confess. The Berlin and Vienna, of course, the Cleve-
land, the London orchestras, the Concertgebouw. I find them all really
quite different. I don't know if I would be able to identify them on re-
cordings, you know; that's not so easy for anyone. But I certainly hear
the differences when I conduct. That's for sure.
BADAL: How do you choose the repertoire you record as a conductor?
ASHKENAZY: It depends on the record company, plans, and on what is sal-
able-you know, on the market, and so on. We simply discuss it and
come to a decision that is mutually acceptable.
BADAL: Younger conductors seem to avoid recording certain pieces in the
repertoire, yet fairly early in your career as a conductor you recorded
Beethoven symphonies. Were you bothered by the fact that every great
conductor has recorded them?
ASHKENAZY: No, not at all. I was only concerned with how well I can do
them. That's all! I try everything.
BADAL: You recorded Prokofiev's Cinderella with the Cleveland Orchestra,
but you only played about half of the score at the concert. When was the
rest rehearsed?
VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY II3
ASHKENAZY: It wasn't rehearsed. We just came to record it. We rehearsed

each number, I think we just played each number through once to re-
hearse, then recorded it straight away. It was tough going. I mean, only
an orchestra like this can do it.
BADAL: How many sessions were there?
ASHKENAZY: Four sessions!
BADAL: How did they go?
AsHKENAZY: Oh, fantastic! I mean, it couldn't go faster than that. It's pos-
sible only with an orchestra like this that has no problems in handling
the materials, you see. I mean, whatever is there in front of them, they
play straight away. That's really quite miraculous.
BADAL: I heard a rumor that London was so pleased with the results that
they were actually thinking of recording the complete Romeo andJuliet
with you and the Cleveland Orchestra. Is there any truth to that rumor?
ASHKENAZY: Oh, yes. They said that, but they have done it with Lorin
Maazel. I'll be very pleased to do it, of course, and they know it very
well.' It should be done maybe in three sessions! I'm joking! I don't know
how long.
BADAL: Of course, the orchestra knows it better.
ASHKENAZY: Yes. Still, it's all difficult, but it's a great piece. But we are
doing now Don Quixote tomorrow. We are recording La Mer-a Debussy
record in April, so we have good plans. I don't know what happens after
that.
BADAL: How do you feel about digital sound? Do you like it?
ASHKENAZY: Yes.
BADAL: There are a lot of people who don't. They say it's unmusical.
ASHKENAZY: No. I don't know what they mean. I think they confuse the
issues, basically.
BADAL: What issues?
ASHKENAZY: The issue of faithful reproduction and the issue of how record
companies record the material. You see, the fact that digital recording
and the compact disc reproduce so faithfully has nothing to do with
being unmusical. It's just something to do with reproduction. That's all.
BADAL: It's sometimes possible to hear things on recordings that you could
not hear in the concert hall. In his book The Composer's Advocate, Erich
Leinsdorf talks about someone who listens to a lot of records, then goes
to a live concert and doesn't like it because it doesn't sound like his stereo.
ASHKENAZY: Well, that's silly! I usually listen to music. I don't necessarily
listen to all the, how can I say, hi-fi details, like I must hear some low
frequency in the double basses or in the tuba, or hear some inner voice
that might be rather lost in a concert performance. Well, it's a pity if
something important is lost in a concert performance, but the main
thing is music, and not some sonority that may be nice to hear but if it
isn't there it won't really have any great bearing on the performance.
That's what we tend to forget. And, you know, hi-fi buffs can be unmu-
sical themselves, actually. And again, to say that faithful reproduction is
unmusical in itself is rather unintelligent, I think. What is important is
what the performance is like. You see, record companies tend to try to
give the record-buying public as good a reproduction as possible. Some-
times it goes into a-well, with some companies it goes into a clinical
reproduction. With some other companies, it doesn't go quite that far.
The sound has quite a lot of air, reverberation, and space. But they still
try to give you on the record what is sometimes impossible in the con-
cert hall. Sometimes, in a way, they enhance things that are difficult to
produce in a concert hall. Sometimes they even help the composer him-
self, who might have misjudged the sonority of the orchestra, the bal-
ance, the instrumentation, and there are numerous cases like that. In
which case, a recording can be beneficial, actually. You hear what should
be heard and what cannot be heard in a concert hall. Yousee, there are so
many aspects to it. But the main thing is the performance itself You
know, I'm not a hi-fi buff because it's not really that important to me:
how many voices I'll hear, how many low or high frequencies I'll hear.
What is important to me is the direction of the performance, what it has
to communicate, you see. And that's not to say that I'll be very pleased if
the recording is technically terrible.
BADAL: What do you listen for when you listen to playbacks ofyour record-
ings?
ASHKENAZY: I listen to music, basically: the way it goes, whether I've man-
aged to communicate what I want to communicate.
BADAL: If you're faced with two different takes of the same passage, and one
is note-perfect and the other contains blemishes but also communicates
the spirit more effectively, which one will you choose?
ASHKENAZY: This depends on the degree of the blemishes, you see. With-
out examples the answer will not be really valid, not honest enough. Of
course, spirit is the most important thing. When the blemishes are such
that it really disturbs you to listen to it, it's no good.
BADAL: Especially when they are repeated over and over.
VLADIMIR ASHKENAZY 115
ASHKENAZY: Especially when they repeat. So one has to be very careful.

BADAL: If someone hits a wrong note during a performance, you may hear
it, but then it's gone. The performance goes on.
ASHKENAZY: You may hear it; you may not. But on a recording, you play it
a few times, and in the end you would hear it, you know. But it depends.
It depends on the degree of the blemish. I sometimes pass things with
blemishes that weren't quite so prominent. But, you know, in other cases
I would opt for the note-perfect solution, too. It depends. I can't give
you a general answer.
BADAL: Do you ever listen to your recordings after they have been released?
AsHKENAZY: No. I get very tense because I relive the whole mess again, and
I get very tired listening to it. So I tend not to listen to them unless I
have to.
BADAL: Do you ever go back to a recording you made in the past and say to
yourself, "If only I had it to do over again, I would do this differently"?
ASHKENAZY: Yes, of course. It happens. Sometimes it happens that I like it.
It happens that I don't like it. Difficult!
ogy they are born into but regard further development as a threat.
AsHKENAZY: Threat to what?
BADAL: Art, for example. Do you see any danger to music from the in-
creased application of technology?
ASHKENAZY: I can't quite focus really on what people mean by that. What
do they mean in practical terms? How does it affect music and art nega-
tively?
BADAL: Some would say, for example, that people will get to know a single
recorded performance but will only know the music superficially.
AsHKENAZY: What is to know music weil? What's to know music superfi-
cially? Doesn't that depend on the individual-how he takes it, how she
takes it? It has nothing to do with technology; it's something to do with
people.
BADAL: Like the hi-fi fiend who is not even listening to the piece any more.
He's listening to the sound of the recording.
ASHKENAZY: Right, exactly! Yes. I'm not interested in such a person, and I
think he's not a music lover, in a way; he's a hi-fi lover. But I have faith in
music, in the fact that music has a lot to communicate to people, you
see. And those who are receptive and responsive to music, I think, will
always be responsive to music. If it's in their genes, you know, their
makeup, SO to speak, they will respond, and it will depend on them

rather than anything else how they react to new technological develop-
ments, you know. I love music so much. For me it was like a miracle,
you know-especially in my situation in the Soviet Union-that 1 could
get, when I went to the West, recordings of pieces that were very seldom
played or almost never played, and I could enjoy them so much, simply
emotionally enjoy them, and also get to know music that I couldn't oth-
erwise get to know. So for me it was both educational and incredibly
enjoyable, and 1 believe if people are as committed to music as I was and
am-and there are many like that, of course-then that's what they get
from records.
BADAL: Education and enjoyment.
ASHIffiNAZY: Yes! Terrific! I think it's irreplaceable, and I'm very grateful to
technology for the invention ofrecordings and for the fact that it brought
recordings to a very high level.
Notes
I. Russian troops took tapes from the radio archives in Berlin. The tapes were ultimately returned
to the West in the late 1980sand subsequently issued on compact disc by Deutsche Grammophon.
Although some of these performances had circulated commercially and privately in the West
before the original copies were returned, the sound was vastly inferior to that of the Berlin tapes.
2. Whether planned or not, the recording never rook place.

To view this image, please refer To view this im age , please refer
to the print version to the print version
of this book of this book
Part of London's record ing selup at Severance Ha ll. "And I think iI's going 10 be one of
the besr places to record."-Chlistoph von Dohn anyi, Photos by Denise Blanda.
To view this image, please refer To view this image, please refer
to the print versio n to the print version
ofthi s bo ok of this book
T he removable platform London constructed in the auditori um of

Severance Hall for record ing sessions. Photos by Denise Blanda.
To view this image, pl ease r efer To view this image, please refer
to the prin t version to the print version
of this book of this book
Warmin g up in Severance Hal l before a Lond on session for Bruckner's

Sympho ny NO.7 in August 1990 . Photos by Den ise Blanda.
To view this image, please refer
to the print version
of this book
To view this im a ge, please refer

to the print version
of this book
Exploring the mysteries of Bruckner's Symphony NO. 7 before:l. reco rding sessio n in
August 1990. Photos by D enise Blanda.
RICCARDO CHAILLY
RICCARDO CHAILLY has always been an exclusive London artist, and his
career in the studio demonstrates a variety of techniques an enterprising
label may employ to establish name recognition for a young musician. A
well-chosen series of some sort always guarantees a certain amount of vis-
ibility; Chailly's Stravinsky recordings included such items as Renard, Le
Chant du rossignol, and The Rake's Progress, the first commercial recording
the opera received after the composer's own. He has also fruitfully explored
the fringes of the repertoire, notably some of the virtually unknown orches-
tral compositions of Alexander von Zemlinsky, such as The Mermaid and
the Symphony in B-Flat.
In a far riskier move, he recorded a number of Bruckner symphonies,
making him one of the first non-Northern Europeans, and certainly the
first young Italian, to tackle the composer on disc, and placing him in di-
rect competition with such legendary Brucknerians as Furtwangler, Jochum,
and Karajan. At the time of our conversation, only Symphony No. 7 had
appeared. Though other symphonies followed, as he remarks during the
interview, a complete cycle had not been contemplated.
When Chaillyappeared with the Cleveland Orchestra in November 1985,
his schedule called for him to record Prokofiev's Alexander Nevs/ry following
the concert performances. Hence, recording producer Paul Meyers sat in
on the interview, along with the maestro's wife. ...",
BADAL: Maestro, I've talked with a number of major conductors about re-
cordings, and most of them are at least a little ambivalent about them.
I've found, however, that younger musicians seem to accept them much
more readily. Is this true in your case?
CHAILLY: Personally, I must say I've been a fanatic about records since I was
a child. Since I was a very, very young student, I was spending all of my
II7
118 RE CO R D I N G T H E C LASSI C S
To view thi s im age, please refer to th e print version

of t his book
Riccardo Chailly conducts the Cleveland Orchestra. Photo by Peter H astings.
lit tle money on recor ds. So I was a fanatic for records-c-dreaming ma ybe
one day to be a musician and m aybe dream ing one day to be an exclu-
sive art ist for a record company. And I've been tied £0 records since my
yo uth. And I believe in records very much, so much th at I'm actu ally
one of the few that at th e m om ent is against those who believe that th e
best way to do a recording is to do a reco rd live. I am against that idea for
several reaso ns. First of all, wh oever bu ys a compact d isc today has to
face a h igh price. That's the realiry of the situ ation. And du e to the fact
that th e buyer m ust pay such a high price, he has the right to expect th e
best qu ality and th e best- th at the perform ance be next to perfection.
We can certa inlynever he perfect, any art ist, bur we sho uld t ry (0 do our
best (0 be as near perfecti o n as possible. And chis yo u can do o nly through
a stu di o reco rding. I don't believe either what for man y years people
have been saying , "O f co urse, th e feeling!The feeling of a perfor ma nce,
the feeling of a live performance is some thi ng akin to-"
B ADAL: O f co urse, som e m usicians do very well in a recording studio. Bur
Leonard Bern stein , for exam ple, feels he does beu er at a live co ncert.
RICCARDO CHAILLY II9
CHAlLLY: I tell you! I know that very often the best results come out in the
recording studio-more than the live performance. This is absolutely
true. The result is that I am against live recordings because they might
bring you the feeling, might bring you the main line, but that's generally
all that you get. You need to have much more perfection when you listen
to perfect sound like on a compact disc.
BADAL: I'm thinking of tapes of live Furrwangler performances which will
just knock you out the first time you play them but they don't wear so
well. It's the recordings he made in the studio that are easier to live with.
CHAlLLY: Let's take-I adore Furrwangler anyway, so-the live recording
of the Bruckner Seventh in Cairo with the Berlin Philharmonic on tour.
This is an example of perfection. Although the sound is very dry and
does not please as you would like, the perfection of the performance is
pretty remarkable. It is really a miracle. But this, I would say, is an excep-
tion, you know. And generally speaking, when you listen, for instance,
to the famous La Traviata from La Scala conducted by Giulini . . . .
Everybody was dreaming about this historic, unique Traviata. My father
was there at that famous premiere. You know, I am Milanese, so I know
what I am talking about. Listen to it today with ears used to listening to
perfection! The ensemble and so on! It sounds extremely messy, and it
should be like this because a live performance brings you that. And al-
though I admire Callas immensely, and she was singing fantastically well,
this a record that I am not able to listen to with great enjoyment today.
It brings exactly what a live performance does bring you: great emotion,
but certainly little perfection.
BADAL: Do you feel comfortable in a recording studio?
CHAILLY: I do feel comfortable. And one of the reasons why I am comfort-
able is because I have a great team surrounding me. There is also a friendly
relationship between me and the management of Decca, and that helps
immensely, of course, to make you feel comfortable.
BADAL: You mentioned that you were a record fanatic. I assume then that
records played an important role in your musical education.
CHAILLY: Yes, indeed! And I especially like to know what was in the past,
being a young conductor. I always like to go back to Furrwangler as
much as I can, Toscanini as much as I can, De Sabata. You know De
Sabata? Our own Italian genius who recorded so little, unfortunately.
BADAL: The De Sabata Tosca. If he had never recorded anything else, he
would be remembered as a great conductor.
CHAILLY: Yes, indeed! This is the most popular recording. Bur now Fonte/
Cetra-you know, the Italian label-is bringing out a full album of De
Sabata. Live recordings! And also, of course, there you hear what live
recording means, but you have a chance to know what De Sabata was.
BADAL: Now that you are a professional conductor, do you still listen to
recordings?
CHAILLY: I listen much less because the time I have available for listening is
so restricted now, so little. Bur when I can, I like to listen, especially to
compact discs.
BADAL: Do you listen to your own recordings?
CHAILLY: Nearly never! No. Nearly never. I listen when we are trying to
finalize the best combination of takes, bur afterwards, I actually never go
back to them.
BADAL: Many older musicians warn that there is a danger to young musi-
cians if they listen to too many recordings. They suggest that a young
musician may be influenced by what he hears, and if that's the case, he
may not develop his own personality.
CHAILLY: There is part reality in this; there is part mental masturbation. It
is true a young fellow can be seduced by a fantastic performance. But to
know what has been done before your time, to have this fortune and not
use it would be stupid and silly. I would say a young conductor behaving
that way has a very limited brain. To have the fortune today to have on
the market whatever you want! You have the way to know what the
greatest conductors in the years before our generation were doing. And
not to use such a great-to ignore it just to be faithful to your own idea
sounds to me so absolutely limiting. Bur of course, you should certainly
not go to a great recording, listen, and try to imitate or try to copy. Bur
if you find something that really moves you so much and you are really
convinced of it, why not use it.
BADAL: Isn't there a danger, though, that if you listen to many different
recordings of the same piece, your performance may lack unity?
CHAILLY: It could be. I was speaking, for instance, with someone in the
Berlin Radio Symphony where, as you know, I am chief conductor. He
alwaysused to say, "Oh, I would like to make a tape ofmy ideal Bruckner
Ninth. That means one movement from Walter, one movement from
Furtwangler, transition from Gunter Wand, and coda from Von Karajan."
This is fun! But in the end, it is not true that a conductor, a performer,
a performing artist really does that. At least, this is not true in my case.
RICCARDO CHAILLY 121
... Let's talk about a real example ofwhat I mean-a tradition that you
feel so involved in that you would like to continue it. De Sabata con-
ducted many times in La Scala Bolero, and at the final modulation be-
fore the close, where the trombones play portamento raaAA! raaAA!he
utilized the strings of the La Scala Orchestra to sing while the trom-
bones play, to sing with the voice the portamentos. And this is some-
thing that I grew up with in my youth. As you know, my father also was
very close to De Sabata because my father was a composer and De Sabata
examined all the operas he wrote. So my father had very close rapport
with him. I also happen to know all the La Scala players because I was
assistant conductor to Claudio Abbado there in the early seventies, and
I've heard this tradition reported by many people. I actually heard an-
other conductor doing that piece in La Scala with that tradition. So
since I was a child, I have heard Bolero in La Scala with that special color.
It is something which makes you freeze and makes you frightened be-
cause it sounds like something is shaking the hall. You don't know where
this is coming from, but it is something which will shake you very much
indeed. Sixty people are singing, you know, and it's an incredible effect.
And I cannot think of doing the Bolero without bringing that tradition
to it. So when I do the Bolero around the world, I always shock the
orchestra in the first morning by asking them to do that. But it sounds
so moving, that moment, and not cheap because it is a fantastic effect.
The piece is in a state of delirium by that time, and this tradition adds
something, I would say, extra-I don't know how to say it in English-
something untouchable, something indescribable.
BADAL: It seems to me that when younger conductors begin making records,
they avoid certain pieces such as Beethoven symphonies and concen-
trate on pieces which are not so well known. I remember when you
started to record, you made a record of Puccini orchestral music, most of
it completely unknown.
CHAILLY: You have Paul Myers in this room, and I'm happy to say that he
agrees. Now, I am certainly one of those who like to go slowly when
approaching a masterpiece: perform it and perform it again, think it and
rethink it, but not to go straight to recording. Paul, for instance, was one
of the first persons who was so convinced of my promise some years ago
when I did the Brahms Fourth Symphony, that he came to me and asked
me to start recording it. And I said, "No, Paul! I thank you very much, I
appreciate your enthusiasm, but I would like to wait many years-not
several, many years-to start recording." So 1had the chance. 1made the
choice and asked him to wait, and he understood the reasons and did
nothing to push the thing. And the Puccini, for instance, was an idea
that 1 always had because, being an Italian, 1 had conducted nearly all
the Puccini operas for many years. And 1 happened one day to talk to
Maestro Karajan in Berlin, and he told me, "I've been told you just
finished recording the Puccini complete symphonic music." And 1 said
yes. "I wish 1 had the idea forty years ago," he said, "because now 1 am
too old and too involved in other things to do that, but 1 wonder why 1
never thought of it." And nobody did until Decca proposed this record.
And he said, ''I'm sure it's going to be a big hit due to the fact that people
adore Puccini's music, and there is so little that people don't know in the
symphonic field. It's going to be very much appreciated."
BADAL: His symphonic music is almost completely unknown, at least in
this country.
CHAILLY: Even in Italy. Even in Italy, it's not that well known. And all the
symphonic music is enough to fill just one LP. That's it! That's all, you
know. Gesamte Ausgabe!
BADAL: The musical scene is much more international than it used to be.
Anyone can conduct Beethoven or Brahms. But some composers we still
want to link with conductors from the same national background. We
want to hear an Italian conduct Rossini; we want to hear a Frenchman
conduct Ravel. Yet you recorded the Bruckner Seventh. 1 looked in the
catalogue, and almost every other recording is conducted by someone
older than you from Northern Europe. Did you ever wonder how the
public would accept a Bruckner Seventh from a young Italian?
CHAILLY: 1 never asked myself this question because 1 approach Bruckner
through the RSO Berlin. The fortune of my position is that now 1 am
recording with the RSO Berlin. That is, as you know, part of my body
constitution, part of my blood. It is an orchestra 1 had to rebuild after
Maazelleft; you know, there was a gap of six, six-and-a-half years with-
out a chief conductor. It was a difficult time for that orchestra. 1 really
had to work in an incredible way to rebuild the style of this orchestra.
There was great potential there, but a need for an enormous amount of
work. And the repertoire! We had to bring back the really main bread-
and-butter repertoire of a great symphony orchestra. So this is an or-
chestra which 1am tied to and believe in very much, one 1 have a special
sentimental connection to. And I'm slowly doing all the Bruckner sym-
phonies in concert at the moment.
BADAL: Will you record them at the same time?

CHAILLY: Some of them. There is not yet such an important project tied to
this concert series. No! We are just playing. We already recorded the
Third, which is coming out in six months. But the RSO Berlin is not
only my orchestra, my instrument for the last three-and-a-half or four
years, but the orchestra in which I can grow into all the Germanic reper-
toire: Brahms, Bruckner, Mahler, Beethoven, and Schumann. And you
know, we are doing all those cyclesslowly over the term ofsix years. I did
a European tour before the recording of the Bruckner Seventh and was
given the chance to play it, nonstop, twelve times. The tour was so wel-
come and so successful from every aspect, and the performance of the
Bruckner Seventh was so highly acclaimed that I proposed to Decca that
they should think of recording it. They, ofcourse, joined us on the tour
and listened to several performances, and they did agree that this was
something they would like to put on record. Of course, there was the
question how the market would be: would it welcome or be shocked
that an Italian conductor was doing Bruckner. I think in the end you
have to leave that judgment up to-you have to listen to the record, if
you have the courage to spend the money. It is such a bargain.
BADAL: You got it allan one record. Almost every other recording's three
sides.
CHAILLY: Although it is the slowest existing on the market.
BADAL: Is it really?
CHAILLY: Yes, I guarantee you. Yes! Look at the timings. There is no one,
including Furrwangler, who is slower.
BADAL: That's like Toscanini conducting the slowest Parsifal in Bayreuth
history.
CHAILLY: Yes, that's so, that's so! When you go to Bayreuth, in the Wagner
house, you see the-you know, they write all the timings. I think people
should judge the combination of an Italian conductor and a German
composer after listening.
BADAL: What do you think you bring to a piece like that that a more tradi-
tional German conductor might not?
CHAILLY: My studies on Bruckner started very early, let's say in the last ten
years. I went through all the symphonies, all the versions. And I arrived
at a state of total madness, and I had to leave it completely for some
years. I then started again to look at them, to start conducting them. I
think maybe it was a combination between my first studies plus the cul-
ture that the Berlin orchestra has in this special period of music. You
know, they did Bruckner for so many years with Jochum. Jochum was,
and still is a regular guest conductor, and he is one of the greatest
Brucknerians who ever appeared. And now Gunter Wand is doing the
Bruckner Eighth just this weekend in Berlin. So they have just a fantas-
tic tradition in this music. I think they did bring me a lot ofculture, a lot
of style.
BADAL: So it's a combination of you and the orchestra.
CHAILLY: I would definitely say it's a combination, yes.
BADAL: All musicians should realize that when they are making a record,
they are doing something very important because they are making a
document that will be available for years. And yet you hear the charge
that there are many musicians who don't reallyrealizethat. John Culshaw,
for example, said that opera singers would show up at recording sessions
vocally tired from singing too many live performances.' Charles Dutoit
says that he doesn't like to record as a guest conductor anymore, that he
prefers to record only with the Montreal Symphony. You recorded last
weekend with the Cleveland Orchestra, and you are going to record
with the orchestra this weekend. Wouldn't you prefer to record with an
orchestra that knows you better?
CHAILLY: If Mr. Dutoit wants to record in Montreal, there are may reasons
for him to do that, but his example is certainly not comparable to my
career. It is very important for me to make that clear. I find it in a way
limiting to just have one orchestra to record and perform with when you
have a choice of the top world orchestras. Besides the RSO Berlin, other
orchestras with whom I record are the Vienna Philharmonic, the
Concertgebouw ofAmsterdam-whom I am going to start conducting
next year in a long series of recordings-and the Cleveland Orchestra. I
mean, this is such a superselective level of orchestras, and it gives you
such a splendid opportunity. So I won't consider it a risk for a conductor
who has the chance and the challenge to have such important orchestras
for recording. And I don't think the Cleveland Orchestra knows me that
little, because I have been coming over here every year for four years.
And there is, more and more, a mutual, easy understanding between us,
a fantastic friendship and relationship. The work is very easy, you know,
without any special problems or particular friction. This is an orchestra
whom I fell in love with since my Blossom debut four years ago, and this
love never stopped.
BADAL: Music is an art that exists in time, and if you were to conduct the
same piece twice in a row, the second performance would be different
from the first.
CHAILLY: If it is immediately after, I don't think so.
BADAL: But a recording will always be the same. Some musicians are both-
ered by that. Does it bother you?
CHAILLY: Well, the record is a record, ofcourse. You should take the record
as an example of a particular way to perform a piece. That's it! I would
say, for my part, when I'm convinced of a piece, usually there is a lag of
only a few seconds between one concert and another. For example, to-
day the Beethoven Second was exactly the same number of minutes and
seconds as yesterday night. This is a question of how you feel. There are
great, fantastic conductors who change every night. It's a question of
nature; it's a question of opinion. I am one of those who, when I do
something, keep the time the same length and the tempos the same. But
ifI go back to the piece five years later, it might be completely different.
BADAL: How would you feel then about a performance you recorded five
years before?
CHAILLY: Well, I really think you should take it as an example ofwhat your
performance was in a specific time ofyour development: youth, age, and
so on. But it should not be something forever because it is always nice to
see there is a growing and that there is a change of mind. So I don't
criticize conductors-and there are plenty of examples-who perform
the SfUIle piece two times, and it sounds far different, one performance
to the other. I find it even more fascinating.
ogy they are born into but regard successive developments as a threat.
Do you see any danger from the increased application of technology to
music?
CHAILLY: I see only a help. I mean, to help the popularity of music. We are
never happy with how popular a piece is, an opera is, a singer is, an artist
is. And we have this challenge today, this fantastic challenge, to use this
technology to make music, classical music, more and more popular. I
think the only thing to think about, to dream about, is to one day make
L'Histoire du soldat or Andrea Chenier as popular as pop music. So I
really think and believe that this technology today can help music to be
more and more popular
BADAL: In his book The Composer's Advocate, Erich Leinsdorf talks about a
man who listens to a lot of records, goes to a live concert, and doesn't
like it because it doesn't sound like his stereo.
CHAILLY: Well, that's a bit extreme, don't you think so? No, I see another
danger from technology: the effect it has on the way people compose.
That is what makes me very afraid. Why do I say that? Because I'm
always interested in avant-garde music; I'm very interested in the avant-
garde. And the more I see, the more I go through scores of avant-garde
music-I'm not talking of only modern avant-garde Italian music but
all the music I'm able to look at-the more I see the effect of technology
on composing avant-garde music, experimental music, electronic mu-
sic. That makes me much more frightened than the fact, if I have to
concern myself with an aspect of music, that technology can help bring
more and more people to classicalmusic. I'm more afraid of the effect of
technology on the composing aspect than on the performing aspect.
Note
I. Putting the Record Straight(New York: Viking, 1981),151-52.

PIERRE BOULEZ
PIERRE BOULEZ'S DISCOGRAPHY is a fascinating combination of the predict-

able and the provocative. As a conductor, he possesses a reputation as a
leading force in the performance of contemporary music, and during the
1960s and 1970s-first as principal guest conductor of the Cleveland Or-
chestra, then as music director of the New York Philharmonic-he chal-
lenged and threatened his audiences with a full range of modern fare in-
cluding music of the Second Viennese School. In a more conservative vein,
he also established himselfas a superlative interpreter ofStravinsky, Bartok,
Debussy, and Ravel. During this period, he recorded primarily for Colum-
bia, and among the expected readings of the Stravinsky ballets and Berg's
WOzzeck came total surprises (Mahler's complete Das Klagende Lied; and
major oddities (Wagner's Love Feast oftheApostles).
Shortly after the death ofHans Knappertsbusch in 1965, Wieland Wagner
invited Boulez to take over his famous production of Parsifal at Bayreuth.
The chasm separating Knappertsbusch's massive approach from Boulez's
leaner, more athletic traversalwas immense, and the Deutsche Grammophon
recording, drawn from the 1970 season, sharply divided critical opinion.
Wolfgang Wagner set the stage for an even more explosivecontroversy when
he engaged Boulez to conduct and subsequently record (for Philips) Patrice
Chereau's provocative centennial production of The Ring in 1976. The
Boulez-Chereau partnership also ultimately yielded Deutsche Crammo-
phon's acclaimed recording of Berg's Lulu-based on the 1979 Paris pro-
duction and incorporating act 3 as completed by composer Friedrich Cerha.
Our interview took place in November 1986. After an absence of sev-
eral seasons, Boulez had returned to Cleveland to perform and record-
this time for Deutsche Grammophon-major scores by Stravinsky and
Debussy. ...",
127
128 RE CORDI NG T HE C LASSI C S
To view t hi s image, please refer to th e p rint version

of this bo ok
Pierre Bouler conducts the Cleveland Orchestra. Photo by Peter Hastings.
BADAL: Maestro, we all accept that we live in an age dominated by various

forms of media. T hese media have differing im pacts on various aspects
of our lives. From your perspect ive. what impact do recordi ngs have on
our musical life?
BOULEz: Well, I sup pose th ere ate different ways of answering that. So the
first th ing is that people who are no t in big cities can listen to very good
performances. You know, somebody in a small town in G erma ny or a
small town in England or anywhere can . for instance . listen to the Berlin
Philharmonic at its best. So that's already some th ing. Secon d. the reper·
roire is enlarged. T he repertoire of recording companies, even if they are
not enlarging it aUthe time. is broader than the reperto ire brought gen·
erally to concert life. T hey record not on ly composers who arc very well
known , for inst ance, but pieces which are not as ofte n perfor med as
Others. Also the mus ic of th e past.
PIERRE BOULEZ 129
BADAL: Had it not been for you, we would not know what the third act of
Lulu sounds like.
BOULEZ: Exactly! Also, I mean old music. Recordings give an opportunity
to listen to it. Otherwise, we would never have the opportunity to hear
it unless you read music. Then you could get a score and imagine what it
should be like. And the third impact recordings have-but that's a nega-
tive one-is that they give the idea, especially for people who are not
familiar with the score or are not too familiar with the score, that an
interpretation is the score. You know, if you hear, let's say, the Mozart
Symphony No. 30 in a recording, and you don't have any other record-
ing-well, you think that all the ritardandos that you hear or the accents
that you hear are the Mozart ritardandos, are the Mozart accents. But
these are the ritardandos and the accents ofone performer, and maybe it
is not the symphony, not the symphony by Mozart you hear, but the
symphony of Mozart through the performer.
BADAL: You faced the same problem a number ofyears ago when you made
the recording of Parsifal at Bayreuth. The only recordings that existed
then were two conducted by Hans Knappertsbusch; and to many people,
Wagner's opera and Knappertsbusch's performance were the same thing.
BOULEZ: Yes, exactly! Because people thought that Knappertsbusch was the
truth for Wagner because he was somebody of the old school.
BADAL: He had been Richter's assistant at Bayreuth.
BOULEZ: Yes, exactly. He was supposed to really have the tradition. In my
opinion, there are two things about tradition. First, I don't think tradi-
tion is transmittable that easily. I mean, what you transmit generally are
the exterior gestures, but not very often the inside of the score. Second,
I think that our point of view of the score changes according to the
generations. A certain generation wants to hear a score done a certain
way, and a performer will come who will bring that to their ears. Look,
for instance, if you listen to the Bach suites by Casals-you know, who
was the first to record them more than fifty years ago, sixty years ago-if
you compare those now, you know, to the suites by Bach played in the
Baroque style-
BADAL: As we understand the Baroque style today.
BOULEZ: As we understand it, you are perfectly right, as we understand it
today-there is a gigantic difference. The notes are the same, but the
sound is not the same; the accentuation is not the same; the speed is not
the same. And I think good music is able, you know, to face all these
different performances. Especially now when we are in a kind of histori-

cal obsession. People are obsessed by the idea that we must find the right
way to perform music of the past. That's very difficult to find for good
reasons. First, people think they are being objective in their interpreta-
tion of old music; but they are not. They discover some old book on
performance, and they take it like a bible, you know. Well, that's a bible
for a short time.
BADAL: When I talked to Christopher Hogwood, he said he blushes to
remember that ten years ago he thought the recordings he made were
statements forever. He said they were nothing more than an indication
of what we understood then about the performance of the music.
BOULEZ: Exactly!And what is to understand? To understand means to ap-
proach music according to what you read on the performance of that
time. And you try to reconstitute, but that's always a reconstitution.
BADAL: I remember when you conducted The RiteofSpring out at Blossom.
I still own the recording that you made soon after, but it occurs to me
that that is you twenry years ago. I know nothing of your development,
as it relates to that piece, since then.'
BOULEZ: Yes, of course. A recording, you know, is a picture. You take a
picture of a work at a certain time, and ten years later, fifteen years later,
the picture will be sightly different. It may not be completely different.
BADAL: If you perform the same piece twice in a row, the second perfor-
mance will be different.
BOULEz: Well, yes, certainly. The second performance is never exactly the
same, but they are very close. But twenry years later, the piece can really
be rethought, and you can have a different point of view-on certain
places, especially. Certainly I myself take a recording for what it is: a
document which is of the time, for the time. Mter a while, you cannot
consider a recording as a kind of replacement for the score. The score is
the score, is really the thing, and a recording is just a picture of the score
taken by somebody.
BADAL: LikeJohn Barrymore playing Hamlet as opposed to Richard Burton.
BOULEZ: Yes, exactly, exactly! In the theater, you have exactly the same prob-
lem. If you look at old films, for instance, or pictures of theater perfor-
mances-let's say you are looking at pictures of Romans. You have your
so-called Roman of 1900, then you have the Romans of 1920, the Ro-
mans of 1940 and so on. They are not the same Romans. The same
elements are there, but you feel 1900, 1920, 1940. Definitely!
PIERRE BOULEZ 131
BADAL: A recording allows you to take the musical happenings of a mo-

ment, freeze them, and repeat them an infinite number oftimes. Do you
think this fact has had any impact on the way musicians make music or
on the way people perceive music?
BOULEZ: On the people who perform music, certainly. I think before re-
cordings we were less eager to hear no defect whatsoever. And now ifyou
have a recording and there is a wrong note, or a singer uses too much
vibrato or makes a kind of wrong sound, especially when it is repeated
and you hear always the same mistake at the same moment. . .. In a
concert, you accept the mistake because you very well know that-
BADAL: It's gone.
BOULEz: It's gone. And if you come to a second concert, maybe there will
be other mistakes, but not exactly the same mistakes at the same mo-
ment and in the same way. For myself, you know, I am more careful
when I make recordings. The attacks, absolutely together! Because you
are thinking, more or less consciously, you are thinking, "If I am not
perfect for a recording, people will not accept it." And you are more
demanding on yourself and on the players than you were before the era
of recordings.
BADAL: One also finds that certain kinds of performances repeat very well
while others don't. The example I always use is live tapes of Furtwangler,
The first time you hear one, you may be swept away, but the qualities
which make it so exciting the first time often do not repeat very welL
Performances which are not so individual may stand up better to re-
peated hearings.
BOULEZ: Yes, because they are more standard, let's say. They are less dis-
turbing from this point ofview. You cannot be disturbing the same way
all the time. When I do a recording myself, I try to do long takes. Of
course, you can be obsessed with precision, but if you limit precision
only to small beats, you don't-you miss completely an important part
of the music. And I think in the old recordings there may be mistakes,
but there is always the long line. Nowadays, especially in intricate works,
sometimes you feel the tempo is unsteady. You don't hear the cut be-
cause the technicians are good enough, but you feel suddenly a drop of
tempo which is completely arbitrary and irrational, which has no reason
to exist at this point. And you know very well at this point there was
suddenly another take inserted which is not exactly in the same tempo
as before. You know, there is excitement in the hall because you have an
audience, and the participation of the audience makes that performance

more exciting, more lively. But for a recording, you have to keep in
mind this excitement, and at the same time, you want perfection. That's
not easy to have both, the excitement and control all the time. And
therefore, for me doing recordings is really a very hard thing. Especially
when you repeat things when something was not good, and you have to
repeat two times, three l;imes, four times. You know, the passion evapo-
rates. Let's put it this way. Ifyou pay attention to the mistakes and try to
be absolutely perfect, the music can lose its impact.
BADAL: Pop and rock music developed styles which take advantage of the
recording medium. In classical music, we still record works which were
conceived for the concert hall or the opera house. When I talked to
Christoph von Dohnanyi, for example, he said he felt it was a mistake to
perform standard operas on television. He felt we should compose op-
eras specifically for television. Do you think we should be creating seri-
ous works which are designed for a given medium?
BOULEz: It is difficult for me to think in those terms. If you want to take
into consideration the technical means, you could be obsolete after a
while because the technical processes are in continuous evolution. There
is a very typical example from Stravinsky, who was a very practical man.
He was commissioned to write a sonata-serenata or sonata, I don't
remember. I think it was a sonata for piano. It was to be recorded. And
there were not long-play records at this time; there were only 78s. And
all the four movements are within three minutes or three-and-a-half
minutes. Now that's ridiculous because, especially with the CD, three
minutes, four minutes, thirty minutes are nothing. If you rely on tech-
nical limitations-that's like someone saying, for instance, "Don't go
higher on the piano than C-you know, the third octave-because after
that our machine can't take it." So you will write a piece between three
and four octaves instead of seven, for instance. And what will be the
result? Thirty years later, fifty years later it has absolutely no meaning
anymore. Therefore, I think if you are geared too much to the technical
aspects of things, you run the risk of having your work outdated by the
progression of technical devices.
As far as television is concerned, it is certainly not the best medium to
give concerts or operas. Operas more than concerts because in the the-
ater you can do something, you can have close-ups, you know, and things
like that. With concerts you cannot do very much, and broadcasts of
concerts are generally miserable from an optical point of view.You have
PIERRE BOULEZ 133
a screen with these hundred people-or sometimes when choral works

are involved maybe three hundred people-and you hear a big noise but
see people like ants. That's really disturbing to me. They also want to
have movement because they think, you know, after two minutes, if the
camera is absolutely still, it would be boring. It would be boring; but it
is not very much more interesting if you see, you know, a close-up of the
first violin, a close-up of the viola. And especially with a pianist playing,
they make close-ups on the hands. That's terribly disturbing to see only
the hands on the screen. While listening to the music, you don't want to
look at fingers.
BADAL: Yet a cellist I know was fascinated when I showed her a film of
Piatigorsky playing. She enjoyed the close-ups of his hands.
BOULEZ: Oh, that's different! As a document, that's different. If you are
going to make a document of a soloist, then you can focus on the bow,
on the technique, on the fingering, and on everything else. I would like
to see, for instance, a concert-everything on the conductor. For half
an hour I could observe the conductor completely. But you have the
conductor for thirty seconds, then you have an oboe for twenty sec-
onds, and then you have the hands of the harpist-especially the harp.
They like the harp, generally. It is stupid! There are a lot of things which
are not really good for television; I agree with that. I think what they try
to do very purposefully is to create some activity or some kind of
pseudoactivity. It is the worst kind of distraction for me.
BADAL: You said something in an interview a number of years ago, and I
imagine it has come back to haunt you: you said that all the opera houses
in the world should be blown up. And yet you went to Bayreuth.
BOULEZ: I gave this interview in Bayreuth.
BADAL: The reason I mention it is that several significant recordings came
out of your association with Bayreuth. If you felt that way about opera
houses, why did you go?
BOULEZ: Because Bayreuth is not an opera house in the normal sense of the
word. Youknow, in Bayreuth you go for the season; you have good work-
ing conditions; you are playing only one repertoire; you rehearse and
play everything in succession. In most opera houses, you have what they
call "the repertoire." And one day they play Don Giovanni; the next day
they will play Fidelio; the third day they will play Rosenkavalier; the fourth
day they will play Tasca; the fifth day ... and so on and so forth. Never
rehearsed! I mean, it's never rehearsed. You have new singers who have
never sung in the production. That's a mess, a constant mess. I'm not
speaking of the premiere; I'm speaking of the everyday life of an opera

house. And if you go, even in the best opera houses, you hear perfor-
mances of the worst quality. The quality that people accept in an opera
house would be unacceptable in a concert hall. If a concert performance
would be on the level ofan opera performance, people would scream. As
for me, it's impossible; this system is impossible. As a matter of fact, I'm
not the first one to say this. Wagner himself said it exactly 130 years ago.
He wrote about the system of opera houses in 1850 when he was in
Zurich.
BADAL: There are those who would say that, as far as that repertoire is
concerned, you're not exactly to the manor born. What do you bring to
this repertoire that a more "traditional" conductor might not?
BOULEZ: Well, I think I'm more careful, if! may say so, with the texture of
the opera and with the relation to the drama. I want the singers to have
a lot of expression in a kind of very valid way, and they are not to shout
all the time against this big orchestra.
BADAL: Which is not as big a problem at Bayreuth as it is elsewhere.
BOULEZ: No, that's not as big a problem; but it is a problem. You have 120
musicians, you know, and they can make a lot of noise even in the
Bayreuth pit. I was especially criticized the first two years. "The orches-
tra is no more what it was. The orchestra is too soft." Progressively, finally,
there was a kid of cohesion between the stage and the pit. It was really
drama, and not only an orchestra playing its guts out with singers some-
where on top of it. You know the monologue of Wotan, for instance, in
the second act of Die WalkiirefYou cannot always have this brass playing
like mad; this poor Wotan cannot shout that type of confession.
BADAL: Also, if we can't understand what he is saying, then we miss infor-
mation we need so the rest of the opera makes sense.
BOULEZ: Absolutely! He must be able to project the words without any
trouble. This also gives a shape to the score. For me, I am very sensitive
to texture. You cannot always have this kind of thickness. I'm very much
in favor of different types of texture, and I think Wagner is very, very
clear and careful with the texture. The number of times he writes "soft"
in the score!And even so, when TheRing was first performed in 1876, he
wrote to the musicians: "You must know the voices are important." So
in his time already, there were certainly exaggerations in the volume of
the orchestra. And so I think if! take care ofthe volume, the modification
and modulation of the volume, then the singers can also modulate the
volume of their voices and the expressions.
PIERRE BOULEZ 135
BADAL: I think many people know how you came to conduct The Ring at
Bayreuth. How did the TV production and the recording for Philips
come about?
BOULEz: Well, at nrst it made a lot of noise. This performance was, I mean,
a very disturbing performance of the century, let's say. Chereau and
myself, we really worked nve years in a row, and we were always there
from the very beginning to the end. And I had a very good assistant,
Jeffrey Tate, who makes a career himself now. Especially with a new
production, with everything new, you cannot make a good, a completely
good performance in the first year. After that, I mean, the more we did
it, the more we improved. But the third year, it was already a good
performance, and people got interested to have this performance. People
began to show their interest in the third year very strongly, and then
between the third year and the fourth year, Wolfgang Wagner arranged
everything with Unitel, which is based in Munich. After that, it was
proposed to do the recording at the same time, to record simultaneously
for television and-
BADAL: Then the recording is the soundtrack for the TV production?
BOULEz: Not exactly. It was taken at the same time, yes, but for television
you could not edit in the same way that you could edit for the recording.
So the editing of the recording is not exactly the same, because some-
times for the television, they had to take a less good musically take be-
cause it looked better-the television aspect was important. For the re-
cording, we could take whatever we wanted. As a matter of fact, the
engineer, the sound engineer for the recording was from New York:
Andrew Kazdin.
BADAL: He used to do a lot of work here in Cleveland.
BOULEz: Yes, exactly. They asked me, you know, whom I wanted, and I
liked him very much from my New York days, and then he came to do
the recording.
BADAL: When a composer records his own works, is that a special docu-
ment, or is he no different than any other interpreter?
Bour.sz: It's a document. It's a good document, I would say, if the record-
ing is good; but it's not the document. First, you know, the conditions
for recording are not always the best in the world. Sometimes you are
under time pressure, or sometimes you have not really the instrumen-
talist you want to have. Sometimes you are, you know, cornered in a
situation where you cannot get exactly what you want. And of course,
you cannot write on the sleeve note, you cannot say, "Well, you know, I
have not the best musicians in the world," or "I've not the best condi-
tions, and I've not enough rehearsal," and so on. You have this record-
ing, and that's it. You have to accept that as an object, as a document.
Myself, I'm critical of some recordings I've done before because of the
lack of time, or sometimes lack of rehearsal, sometimes some weak ele-
ment in the combination of the instrumental group. That's very pos-
sible; all these things are possible.
I remember, for instance, having heard the Pierrot Lunaire of
Schoenberg which was issued on Philips, I remember-reissued on
Philips. The recording was done, I suppose, in 1940 or 1941 in New
York. The instrumental style, for me, is very good; but the style of the
woman who is telling Pierrot Lunaire, the Sprechstimme, is absolutely
unbearable because she has always this glissando. And I find that's un-
bearable. I was told, "Oh, maybe it was related to the style of acting in
Vienna in 1910."Well, who cares now about the Vienna style ofacting in
191O? Maybe this way of speaking the text was okay for Schoenberg, but
it's not okay for me. I still like these documents. Myself, you know, as a
composer, when I performed my works thirty years ago, I was not as
clear with them as I am now, and I perform them certainly much better
now then thirty years ago. That is true; there is an evolution. There are
musical gestures which become natural, more natural than before. And I
suppose it has always been this way. I mean, when something is new,
that's like a jacket or something. You need to wear it for a while, and you
get accustomed to it.
BADAL: One of the reasons I bring the whole matter up is that Leonard
Bernstein recently recorded his west Side Story using opera singers. A
number of the reviews were rather harsh, saying that the operatic ap-
proach is wrong; and even if the approach is right, these are the wrong
singers. What these reviews seemed to be saying, in a way, was that
Bernstein's work belonged to the public and the critics but no longer to
him. He wrote the work. Can't he perform it how he wants to?
BOULEZ: You know, I don't know this recording by Bernstein, but I can
understand the reaction, because operatic singers are-have generally a
heavy style ofpresenting things. They are singing generally things which
are heavier, and the volume is also different. The conception of the voice
is different. So, if they perform idiomatically, I cannot say. Only Bernstein
can say that. But I see also in this kind of trying to get opera singers for
something light an attempt to make the genre more noble. I have done
PIERRE BOULEZ 137
the same thing in reverse exactly. Sometimes I've tried to do Pierrot Lunaire
with cabaret singers, and it came to the most disastrous results because it
is-Pierrot Lunaire is a cabaret piece, that's true, but it's a cabaret piece
which no cabaret singer would ever be able to sing because the musical
capacity is simply not the same.
BADAL: What impressed me about some of these reviews, though, was that
they seemed to be saying that Bernstein, the composer, misunderstood
the nature of his own work, that he was wrong.
BOULEZ: No, no, no, no! Youcan't say that. You cannot say that he is wrong;
you say simply that you find it inadequate. Like you would find, Jar
instance, in a performance ofa work by myself If there is a singer whose
style you do not appreciate, you can say, "Well, for me, the style of the
voice is inadequate for the work I'm listening to." That's not a question
ofwrong and right; that's a question of being adequate to the style or not
adequate to the style.
BADAL: Accepting or not accepting the recordings of the composer is a
game we all play, and we seem to play it somewhat selectively. Speaking
for myself, some of the most uninteresting performances of Richard
Strauss I have ever heard were conducted by Richard Strauss.
BOULEZ: I can't speak for Strauss, who was really a great conductor, but
even with his own music ... He did not really work on his own music all
the time like a conductor. He was conducting from time to time, writ-
ing his own music-and writing took him much more time, especially
in the second part of his life. It took up much more time than conduct-
ing. He was not involved constantly with the problems of performance.
When you see, for instance, composers like Bartok and Stravinsky! Bartok
was a very good pianist, but I suppose he never devoted so much of his
time to his Second Piano Concerto, let's say, as a pianist today. And
there are poetic difficulties and pianistic difficulties. But I suppose, you
know, he was just studying it for his own performances and then not
bothering with it the rest of the time. It was not part of his repertoire all
the time.
BADAL: I saw Schuyler Chapin on William Buckley's show, of all places,
talking about the recordings of Stravinsky. He said how wonderful it
was that we had them because now we knew how he wanted his music to
go. I remember thinking, when Stravinsky wrote The Firebird in 1910,
did he really mean for it to sound the way he conducted it fifty years
later?
BOULEZ: No, certainly not. In 1910, he could not imagine himself in this
position. It is good we have these recordings of Stravinsky, that's true,
but as I say, they're documents. That's all! I have seen him conduct. I
knew him, and I have seen him conduct. He was not a professional
conductor. He was more a composer than a conductor. So why should
we rely on recordings which convey certainly a certain spirit but which
convey also a number of defects? And the older he got, of course, the
weaker his personality came through because the physical strength was
not any more there. And, you know, that's the difference between
Stravinsky and Monteux. I have seen Monteux conduct when he was
very old, and I have seen Stravinsky conduct when he was very old.
Monteux could compensate for his physical weakness because he had a
technique which allowed him almost not to move but still control every-
thing, and Stravinsky had not this technique. So when he was younger,
you know, the physical strength came through in spite of the clumsiness,
I would say. But when the physical strength was not any more there,
there remained only the clumsiness.
BADAL: But even taking that into consideration, I felt that Stravinsky was
conducting The Firebird in the light of everything he had composed
since. Your recording is very lush and romantic in a way that his isn't.
BOULEZ: I suppose I can understand how he would take a work of his
youth which was influenced by Rirnsky- Korsakov, by Scriabin, espe-
cially-he wanted to bring it closer to him, and that I am not obliged to
do. And therefore, if! take this same course, I never do the reorchestrations
of 1945 or 1947-1945 for The Firebird, 1947 for Petrushka-because I
find these reorchestrations are a disaster. But I suppose, you know, with
these big orchestras for TheFirebird and Petrushka ... Dance companies
will not have big orchestras like that. The pit was too small, or there was
not enough money. So they will make their own arrangements. And I
suppose, you know, that it could be very annoying to Stravinsky to hear
arrangements made by Mr. X, or Mr. Y, or Mr. Z, and he preferred to
have his own arrangements for reduced orchestra. I agree on this point.
I can understand the sheer economic necessity for a dance company to
have a score which is reduced; but ifyou are in a concert or in a big ballet
company and you have the money, do the original!
ogy they are born into but regard further developments as a threat. Do
PIERRE BOULEZ 139
you see a danger to music from the increased application of technology?

BOULEz: No, on the contrary! I see a benefit. I will give you an example. In
the nineteenth century, you know, people were reading scores and play-
ing scores, and there was a direct contact with the music. We don't have
that anymore now. People don't play the piano so much. I was born in a
very small town, and when I was very young, there were people doing
four-hand versions of symphonies by Beethoven or by Schubert. The
performances were very poor. You could read the music, but you still
had no idea what it was like in performance. And now, through record-
ings, you get a better idea of what a work is.
It can be compared to reproduction in the visual arts. In the nine-
teenth century, you had just very poor black-and-white photographs or
etchings, but now you can reproduce quite well and quite faithfully a
big painting. Even if you don't go to the museum because the museum is
very far from your home, you know very well what this painting is and
represents. And that's the same for music. I don't know about the future,
what will be the improvements or the new discoveries, but I think if you
really-if your ideas are strong enough, if your personality is strong
enough, you will always be, not a slave to these discoveries, but you will
master them, and they will serve you. And that, from my point of view,
is what we should have.
Note
1. The recording referred to was made by Columbia. Boulez has since recorded a digital version,
again with the Cleveland Orchestra, for Deutsche Grammophon.
ANDREW DAVIS
THE FIRST MAJOR release on Columbia under Andrew Davis's baton was a
two-LP set of the three Borodin symphonies coupled with the usual or-
chestral excerpts from the composer's Prince Igor. For a young, still rela-
tively unknown British conductor recording for a major label, it was a shrewd
choice of repertoire: relatively familiar music, somewhat removed from the
center of the so-called standard repertoire, certainly not overexposed on
disc. Davis discussed the early phase of his recording career rather exten-
sively in our interview, making it clear that much of his Columbia discog-
raphy was selected with similar care.
Though his subsequent move to EMI yielded such significant issues as
the live recording ofTippett's TheMask ofTime, his recent affiliation with
Teldec further illustrates how important to a successful recording career
finding and exploiting the proper niche can be. The German company
promptly teamed Davis with the BBC Symphony Orchestra and, under
the heading "The British Line" prominently displayed on the CD booklet,
began recording music of English composers-a generally praised series
that so far includes works by Vaughan Williams, Elgar, Britten, Delius, and
Holst.
Arranging an interview during the Blossom summer season is always a
tricky affair, and the fact that Davis was temporarily beyond the reach of a
telephone in the Canadian wilderness further complicated plans for this
conversation. We ultimately talked on a late August afternoon in 1987 by
the pool of his hotel. In spite of the heavy rehearsal load and the brutal
heat, he appeared relaxed and casual. His patience and humor received a
major test that weekend when a sudden violent thunderstorm interrupted
his performance of the Brahms Symphony NO.4 and rendered WCLV's
broadcast tape useless. During the intermission, while the elements contin-
ued to rage, one orchestra member offered the delighted audience a surprise
rendition of "Stormy Weather." ...",
14°
ANDREW D A V I S 1 41
To view this image, pl ease r efer to th e print version

of this book
Andrew Davis. Photo by Clive Barcia, CourteSyof Shaw ConC<:TIS, Inc.

BADAL: Maestro, I think everyone accepts the fact that recordings have a great
deal ofartistic importance. It would probably come as a surprise to people
outside the music business, however, that they also have tremendous eco-
nomic and public relations value for an orchestra as well. Before you went
to Toronto, the orchestra really hadn't done that much recording.
DAVIS: No, the Toronto Symphony before I went there had not-apart
from some records for the CBC. We still continue to make records for
the CBC, and they have a series now called the SM 5000 series. We've
made quite a few recordings for them which are theoretically available in
stores. I mean, theoretically they have international distribution; in fact,
they don't. The CBC has never quite gotten its act together as far as
distributing its commercial recordings is concerned. So the orchestra
made quite a few ofthose, although not that many otherwise. Seiji Ozawa
recorded a couple of things, I think, with the Toronto Symphony for
RCA. He recorded Messiaen's Turangalila and Takemitsu'sNovember Steps.
BADAL: He performed November Steps here in Cleveland at about the same
time.
DAVIS: Oh, I'm sure, yes. I mean, he did that piece allover the place at one
time with two Japanese instrumentalists. He recorded the Symphonie
fantastique also, but that was about it.
BADAL: I'd be interested in the politics of the situation. Did you bring the
contract with you to Toronto?
DAVIS: Yes. I had at that time an exclusive contract with CBS. It was an
exclusive contract, but it was only for-oh, it was never for more than
two records a year. But it was a contract. And so therefore, when I went
to Toronto, CBS decided they'd like to make some records there. During
the whole time I was under contract to CBS, I was making records both
in London and Toronto.
BADAL: It would seem to be a very difficult situation for a young conductor
to make recordings. You have to make them to be well known, but you
have to be well known to make them.
DAVIS: Yes, that's right.
BADAL: It seems to me that young conductors tend to record on what I call
the fringes of the repertoire; there are certain things they will leave alone.
The first recordings of yours that I was aware of were the Borodin sym-
phonies. I remember thinking what a good idea that was, because your
name was beginning to be known, and that was repertoire that no one
else had done at that time.
DAVIS: Yes. All two-and-a-half symphonies, one should say, really.
BADAL: How was the repertoire you recorded in Toronto selected?
ANDREW DAVIS 143
DAVIS: Well, you know, I had discussions with CBS at some length about
it. As you say, the problem is to find repertoire. I mean, obviously no
record company is going to invite some younger man like myself to
record Beethoven symphonies and Brahms symphonies.
BADAL: Would you even want to at this point?
DAVIS: Well, no. No! In fact, I certainly wouldn't-although I have re-
corded three Brahms symphonies in Toronto with the CBC, and I'm
quite happy with them. But for a major label ... Well, I don't think any
major label, as I say, would ask for them; and for me, it wouldn't have
been right. So then we talked about various areas of the repertoire which
were of interest to me. The Borodin symphonies idea, I must say, came
from CBS. At that time Paul Myers was the A&R [Artists and Reper-
toire] guy in CBS. He's actually responsible for signing me up. He had
the LSO [London Symphony Orchestra] booked, and someone can-
celed. So he said, "Okay! We'll get Andrew to do some stuff." So I did.
My first record for rhem was the YOung Person's Guideto the Orchestra and
the Prokofiev Cinderella with the LSO. So he and I discussed the Borodin
idea, and it kind of appealed to me. I mean, I don't rhink the Borodin
symphonies are great, great, great music, but they are fascinating.
BADAL: And they should be recorded.
DAVIS: Yes, absolutely! They are important.
BADAL: And they should be done well.
DAVIS: They should be well done; and at that time, I don't rhink there was a
complete recording ofrhem. The Second Symphony, ofcourse: there were
probably eight recordings ofit in the catalogue, actually.That piece seems
to have been done quite a lot. But rhe others-and I rhink rhe First has
some wonderful things. Beautiful slow movement in the First Symphony.
So I was very happy to do them. I think the second record we recorded in
Toronto was Janacek: a suite from The Cunning Little Vixen and Taras
Bulba, which is a record I'm very fond of It never did very well.
BADAL: You've got to be Czech.
DAVIS: You've got to be Czech or ... not so much that, but that coupling
wasn't that successful, I think. Neither of those pieces is really that popu-
lar. I mean, you've really got to do the Sinfonietta to make an impact.
But I'm really very fond of the recording. And rhen we did the complete
Nutcracker, which was more popular.
BADAL: You raise an interesting point with the Janacek record. There are
some composers, such as Beethoven and Brahms, which everyone records.
There are those areas ofthe repertoire, however, in which we try to match
the nationality of the conductor with the composer. We want to hear
Italians do Rossini and Frenchmen do Ravel.

DAVIS: I guess so. Yes, that is certainly true to a certain extent, although I
think one can oversimplify. As I say, I'm very happy with that recording;
but it never really took off. Then we recorded several other things. The
complete Boutiqueftntastique of Rossini-Respighi which, again, is a very,
very fine recording, I think.
BADAL: The repertoire of some of your recordings does not seem to be
particularly well chosen. I'm thinking of the record with nothing more
on it than the Dvorak opus 46 Slavonic Dances.
DAVIS: The one I did with the Philharmonia! Absolutely! And that was
never my intention. It only came out last year or two years ago, and it
was recorded ages ago.
BADAL: Really?
DAVIS: Ages ago, yes. It must have been at least four years ago I did that, if
not five; and they've been sitting on it for some reason. In fact, at one
time we were talking about-you see, the problem with the Slavonic
Dances is they don't really fit. You can't do both sets on one record.
BADAL: No, you really need three sides.
DAVIS: Three sides. Then you've got to find a filler.
BADAL:. You could probably get them all on one CD.
DAVIS: On CD, of course you could. On a CD you can get seventy-four
minutes of music. Anyway, the other major area of the repertoire I re-
corded with CBS was Dvorak symphonies.
BADAL: Was that ever intended to be a complete set?
DAVIS: Yes! And in fact we recorded them all, and they had cold feet about
issuing the first ones, which is too bad because they are of interest, espe-
cially the Third. I think the Dvorak Three is really crazy. It has this sort
ofTchaikovskian, rather balletic first movement. Very beautiful. Then
this wonderful slow movement which reminds one alternately of Berlioz
-sort of Romeo andJuliet love scene music-and Wagner. I mean, there's
a lot of Wagnerian writing: brass and harps and things.
BADAL: I think the last movement of the Fourth Symphony is one of the
worst bits of Dvorak I've ever heard.
DAVIS: That's very unfortunate because the first three movements-
BADAL: The third movement is wonderful.
DAVIS: Yes, absolutely. The slow movement and the scherzo. And the first
movement is nice, too, but the finale is very weak.
BADAL: When did you record these?
DAVIS: Oh, again, we probably finished them about five years ago.
BADAL: And you can't do anything to get them released?
ANDREW DAVIS 145
DAVIS: No, I never had the kind of contract that guaranteed-in fact, after
I'd been with CBS quite a long time, when the contract came up for
renewal, I said no because it wasn't a particularly fruitful thing for me in
the sense of being tied to one company for one or two records a year. It
didn't seem to make sense to me.
BADAL: Now you're recording for EM!.
DAVIS: We recorded The Planets for EMI last year, and we've just recorded
the Messiah for them in Toronto.
BADAL: Really?
DAVIS: Oh, yes. This is going to be-it should be out in September or
October, I think. Very shortly!
BADAL: Which edition did you use?
DAVIS: Well, when they approached me about recording the Messiah, from
the word go, I didn't want to do another small one, because there have
been several extremely good recordings to come out in the last couple of
yearswith, you know, people like John Eliot Gardiner with his choir and
the English Baroque Soloists. I think that's whom he did it with. And
Hogwood has done it. And so I thought, no! It's time for us to do a
slightly old-fashioned, maybe unfashionable, sort of large-scale kind of
Messiah. And then, of course, we came to think, "Well, maybe it's time
for another Beecham Messiah."
BADAL: When I talked to Christopher Hogwood, he said it would be inter-
esting to see a revival of the Beecham-Goosens Messiah or the version by
Sir Michael Costa.
DAVIS: Yes, well, in fact, I listened to the old recording of Beecham, and
really it's "over the top," as they say. I mean, all this percussion!
BADAL: Cymbal crashes!
DAVIS: Cymbal crashes,and there'seven a whip in "Thou Shalt BreakThem."
And string pizzicato allover the place. It's a fabulous piece of orchestra-
tion in its own right, but I found it too much. And I looked at Mozart.
Mozart is interesting.
BADAL: It's been recorded.
DAVIS: It has also been recorded, and I don't like all of it. I mean, there are
some absolutely magic things in it. "The People who Walked in Dark-
ness" is wonderful. The chromatic bassoon, clarinet, and flute writing
that he added is absolutely the work of a genius, but some of the other
things he did I never liked that much. So in fact, what we did was just
use the standard edition in most of the solos, although for the bigger
numbers, I used a full string section. I mean, a full symphony orchestra
string section-eight double basses and sixteen first violins. And I did
that for things like "He was Despised" and "Thou Shalt Break Them."
BADAL: How big was the chorus? Is this going to be one of those big Victo-
rian performances?
DAVIS: The chorus is not quite on the scale ofsome of the Victorian things,
but the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir is about 180 voices, so it's a big
sound. And for the really big choruses-about five or six of them, I
suppose; certainly the "Hallelujah" chorus and the ''Amen'' chorus and
some of the others-I actually used the Ebenezer Prout edition. There
are a couple of clarinets in there, but you wouldn't know. You can't hear
them. We actually didn't record in Roy Thomson Hall in Toronto. We
did three performances there, and then we moved out to Kitchener, which
is where we recorded The Planets last year. Neither I nor EMI were very
thrilled by the sound of out concert hall in Toronto, so we recorded this
out in Kitchener. That meant we couldn't use the grand organ in Roy
Thomson Hall, so I dubbed that myself afterwards. It was rather fun, I
must say. The boring thing about that was that we had to do it before we
edited it, so I had to put the organ parts on all the takes before the
editing process could be done. I think it's going to be very exciting. I
spent a lot of time editing it, too. I've never actually spent that much
time-I've never been so closely involved with the balancing, mixing,
and editing of anything as I have been with this, and to me it's really,
really fascinating. So I'm very excited. It's a very good cast. It's Kathy
Battle, Florence Quivar-
BADAL: You can't do any better than that.
DAVIS: No! So Kathy, Florence-Florence is wonderful-John Aler-
BADAL: I don't know him.
DAVIS: Very good in this kind of repertoire. And Sam Ramey! I'm doing
Figaro with him in Chicago in a couple of months' time.
BADAL: Which raises an interesting point: You've done a lot of opera work
in your career, but very little on record. Is that yout choice?
DAVIS: Well, I wouldn't say I've done a lot of opera. I started conducting
opera at Glyndebourne in 1973, and I was there every year from 1973 to
1980. I was there again in 1985-86, and I'm going to be there for the next
few years, four years, anyway, from next year. Otherwise, I've been to the
Met twice, Covent Garden twice, the Paris Opera once-and that was
once too many! And that's it.
BADAL: Your opinion of the Paris Opera is shared by some of your col-
leagues, I guess.
DAVIS: Oh my God! It was the worst experience of my life without ques-
tion. Anyway, that's another story. So I haven't actually done an enor-
ANDREW DAVIS 147
mous amount. I've done a lot of Strauss, and I seem to have been pi-
geonholed as a Strauss conductor, which doesn't bother me at all actu-
ally. I adore that music.
BADAL: You did that little bit from Die Liebe der Danae.
DAVIS: Yes, the symphonic fragment, that's right. On the record with Eva
Marton-which I quite like, I must say.That was a fun record to make.
That was made from three live performances. Which is another thing!
For a while a couple of years ago, several people seemed to be very hot
on the idea of recording from live performances.
BADAL: Leonard Bernstein still is. I once read of a critic who thought you
were more impressive in live performances than you were on record.
DAVIS: I think that's true. I don't enjoy listening to most of my recordings
because I think they-and I'm not talking about the most recent ones. I
think probably in the last three or four years, I've at least begun to feelmore
comfortable in the studio. And I don't know what it is. Well, I mean, I do
know what it is to a certain extent. One of the things I find-and I'm sure
other people felt the same thing; I mean, George Szellhated recordings-
BADAL: I think most conductors from the older generation did, and for
very understandable reasons.
DAVIS: Well, I don't know why it should be any more understandable for
them than it is for us.
BADAL: On very old recordings, the sound was bad.
DAVIS: Yes, that's true. It's not the sound that bothers me.
BADAL: And in the days of 78s, of course, you could only record things in
four-minute bits.
DAVIS: Oh, yes. Sure, sure, of course. That was appalling. But George Szell
was never really comfortable after many years of recording, and I think
it was probably for the same reason that I dislike it. You know, it's very
hard to recreate the sense of performance, especially in regard to struc-
ture, if one is always stopping and starting. The overall shape of the
piece can very easily become lost. Or one becomes very careful. You
want to make sure that something is clean and precise, so you just sort of
take a little edge out. And that is something I've reallyhad to fight against,
so I think that comment was absolutely right. There are some of my
early recordings that I like very much. As I told you, the Janacek one I
really enjoy. But that, interestingly enough, was recorded in a very short
amount oftime, so there's a sense of urgency about it. It's funny. I haven't
thought about this a lot lately. I had the feeling for many years ... My
career started very quickly, you know. I first started conducting sort of
full time as a professional activity in 1970.
BADAL: That's when you did the Janacek mass.

DAVIS: That's right, The Glagolitic Mass.
BADAL: You also had a recording that you referred to.
DAVIS: Yes, and as a matter of fact, it was Karel Ancerl's, I had to learn
the piece in two days, so I wasn't above listening to a recording of a
performance to help me. That's a piece I've always been very, very,
very fond of.
BADAL: It's a tremendous piece.
DAVIS: It's great. A great work!
BADAL: Kurt Masur did it out at Blossom. It was wonderful to hear it outside.
DAVIS: How did the organ sound?
BADAL: Not very good! It was loud.
DAVIS: Yes, that's the only problem with doing it outdoors. I agree with you
in every other way; it's tremendous because that's what it's all supposed
to be. So everything started very quickly for me, and in a sense I sort of
couldn't believe it. There was a part of me that thought my success was
sort of indecent. And I think there was a certain insecurity. You know,
am I really this good? Do I deserve to be where I am? For some reason
that insecurity was particularly apparent in the recording studio and
made working there harder for me. I think at this point in my life I've
come to terms with it. I've been conducting for some seventeen years,
and I think I'm where I am because I deserve to be where I am.
BADAL: Did you have to come up with your own philosophy about work-
ing in the recording studio? Do you, for example, prefer long takes?
DAVIS: It depends on what I'm doing. I'm just trying to think ... Lately,
you see, I haven't actually recorded anything like a symphony which has
really long, extended movements, not in the last two or three years. We
did ThePlanets, of course, which is a major piece, but it's seven shortish
movements. Even the Messiah is that way, although the continuity of the
Messiah is very important to me.
BADAL: It must have been very difficult to record it because I'm sure you
did it out of order.
DAVIS: We recorded it out of order, but we had just done three live perfor-
mances. That really makes a tremendous difference, so the shape and struc-
ture of the piece and the dramatic tensions are there somehow. It's inter-
esting. It's the first time I've ever conducted the Messiah, too. But in a way
that was good, because I came to it very, very fresh. There are some pieces
which are good to approach that way. On the other hand, there are some
other pieces I would not dream of taking into the studio if! had, not only
done them several times, but done them several times within the period I
ANDREW DAVIS 149
was having to work on them. That's another danger, I think, for a young
conductor. A company comes to you and says, "We want you to record
Dvorak symphonies," for instance, which is what they did with me. A lot
of them I really hadn't done very much at all. I scheduled the Sixth and
Fifth symphonies several times before I recorded them. Actually, those
two, I think, came off almost the best of my Dvorak cycle.
BADAL: I think when anybody makes a recording, I don't care how long
you've been a performing musician, you can't escape that sense that it is
never going to change, unlike a live performance in which a mistake is
going to be forgotten.
DAVIS: Yes, and in that sense the recording is sort of artificial. It's against
what music and the performing arts generally are because they seek to
recreate something in an instant. It's the same if you go to see a play. It's
something that exists in a specific period of time, and then it's gone.
Then you've got to do it allover again.
BADAL: Unlike the cinema, for example, which is also always the same.
DAVIS: That's right! And nobody is going to make another version of
Amadeus. But I'm not questioning the validity of recordings, ofcourse; I
think they're great. But there is a certain nervousness that comes with
the knowledge that the recording never changes.
BADAL: Listening to a recording in the privacy ofyour home is a very differ-
ent kind ofexperience from listening to a performance in a concert hall.
Have recordings changed the way people perceive music or the way mu-
sicians make music?
DAVIS: I think there has been a much greater-I mean, accuracy has be-
come sort of the number one consideration almost. Which has been
good in some ways, because it has cleaned a lot of orchestras up, so to
speak. There are so many great recordings that you could put on. So the
orchestral player, never mind the conductor, but the orchestral player,
will know that the recordings are there, will listen to them himself, and
have a greater sense of responsibility to clean up his own act-collec-
tively, as it were. So I think recordings have done a lot in that regard.
But the opposite side of the coin is perhaps this sort of caution.
BADAL: It's a caution that extends beyond execution into the style of the
performance itself One can look back at someone like Furrwangler-c-
DAVIS: That's right. Fine. Now you get into the question of accepted tradi-
tions of performing things, and somehow there has been less deviation
than there used to be. It's partly a question of taste and style, you know.
Some of the old Furrwangler recordings, for instance, are marvelous;
but there's certain repertoire you listen to him do and not only disagree
but find totally untenable from a stylistic point of view. So I should say,
the refinement oftaste is a positive aspect of recordings. Somehow, some-
times you want to get away from that and say the hell with it! Let's hear
some really way out bending of phrases and some very strong statement
that one can react to either with ecstasy or dismay.
BADAL: Stokowski!
DAVIS: Stokowski, sure. Stokowski is a very good example. I've become
rather fascinated with him lately, not really having known a great deal
about him. I've just read a very long biography of him.
BADAL: Oliver Daniel's book. Yes, I've read it too.
DAVIS: It opens up, for me, a whole new way of looking at things. The
spontaneity of his early career is tremendous. It's totally unrelated to
recordings, but he could say, "Fine! In three weeks' time I'm going to
program this or that piece." It's a thing of the past. I mean, one can do
that under extraordinary circumstances, but I sort of know what I'm
doing for the next two years. So there's a certain spontaneity that has
gone out of the music business as a result of ... well, of all kinds of
things. Just the fact that there is so much demand for music now, and
we're all booked so far ahead. It has become a very commercial industry.
BADAL: How do you feel about historical recordings? Is there anything to
be learned from them?
DAVIS: When you say historical, you mean old recordings where the sound
is crabby? Sure, because you hear great conductors making great music.
BADAL: Do you have any particular favorites?
DAVIS: Well, sure. I've never been a great collector of recordings either old
or new. I don't listen to records a lot. But some of the old Furrwangler
recordings I think are fascinating. The Wagner Ring cycle he did with
the RAI Orchestra in Italy, you know, is to me absolutely mind-bog-
gling. Some of the old Bruno Walter recordings I think are marvelous,
especially in the Mahler repertoire. And some of his Mozart I think is
fantastic.
BADAL: There are some conductors who come across on records better than
others. A friend of mine never particularly cared for Karajan until she
saw him conduct An Alpine Symphony on PBS. She was tremendously
impressed by the visible intensity ofconcentration. Now, that is a purely
visual quality; you don't get it on records.
DAVIS: Yes, and I think that's true. Now, whether Karajan differs in the
recording studio, I don't know. I'd be fascinated to go to a recording
session of his. In his recordings he always seems to go for a tremendous
sort of depth and smoothness. I've heard performances of his that ...
ANDREW DAVIS 151
had much more excitement than his recordings. I mean, I've heard the
same piece live and on record. I think he's a wonderful recording artist.
Great! I mean, he is great. Just great, great, great! The man is a bloody
genius. He's one of the greatest musicians who ever lived. I used to hate
his music making, incidentally. I found it so over-I don't know, there
was something about ... sort of a slickness about it. But I think his
music making has become more moving, to me anyway, in the last ten
years. I think his knowledge of his ... his realization of his own mortal-
ity-I don't know. Anyway, you know, it's presumptuous for me to talk
about Karajan, I think-for any ofus to talk about Karajan except in the
most adulatory terms. The man is incredible, and I find him now an
absolute miracle.
BADAL: Could we talk about The MaskofTime?Now that's a live recording.
DAVIS: That was a live recording, and it was not intended to be. And a piece
like that, in a sense, I would have-
BADAL: I would think a piece like that would have been a tremendous risk
in a live situation.
DAVIS: It was a tremendous risk, and I wasn't at all happy about it. I actu-
ally stuck my neck out and said to the recording company and to
Michael-and I love Michael Tippett, I think he's a very,very great man,
and we're good friends-but I said to him, "I want to be able to say
when I hear the tapes-I mean, I want power of veto." We had planned
to record it in the studio. We were going to have so many days' rehearsal,
and then we had a couple days in the studio to record it.
BADAL: What happened? Was it an economic decision?
DAVIS: It was an economic decision. They couldn't raise the money, which
I found absolutely maddening. And then at the last minute, after the
recording sessions actually had been canceled-just for union purposes
one has to release dates if they're not definite-when it was too late to
salvage those recordings days in the studio, they came up with enough
money to do this compromise, recording it live. As it happens, it turned
out very well. There are some things in the performance that are less
than 100 percent spic-and-span, but the spirit that comes across is phe-
nomenal. It is wonderfully exciting, and I must say the EMI engineers
did a great job. I haven't actually listened to the whole thing since it has
come out. I've got a CD at home, and I've listened to most of it. But I
haven't had time to hear the whole thing. It's wild! And very moving. I
think it's a very moving piece, the second part especially.
BADAL: Did you worry about the acoustics of the hall?
DAVIS: Well, no. I mean, I know the Festival Hall very well, and the EMI
people all know it well enough. That wasn't the concern to me. The
sound is certainly good enough, and it has a certain amount of clarity
about it which is very good for a piece like that. It's not the most sensu-
ous sound, perhaps, but that can be tampered with a little bit. But there
is a sort of richness in some of the climactic moments that I think is very
. .
ImpressIve.
BADAL: Did you conduct the premiere?
DAVIS: I conducted the European premiere. It was commissioned by the
Boston Symphony and Colin Davis, Sir Colin conducted the first per-
formances in Boston. Actually, at that time there was even the possibility
of those tapes being used for a recording which, again, I gather didn't
happen for financial reasons. Then I did the European premiere in the
Proms, and then this, the second performance, was the one which was
recorded-the same forces, but in the Festival Hall. I just did it in Janu-
ary in Toronto, incidentally.
BADAL: How did it go over?
DAVIS: It went over very well. Michael came. Oh, the usual number ofpeople
left the hall. You know, ten movements, and after each one some people
said, "That's enough for me"; but that's what you'd expect in North America.
Well, anywhere with a subscription! They didn't leave in huge numbers,
and the response of everyone who didn't leave was overwhelming. Over-
whelming! Because what the piece sets out to say, and says, in my view,
tremendously successfully, is very profound. I mean, it is the only piece I
know this century that really sets out so overtly to talk about the great
issues: where man came from and where he is going, what he's doing, what
he has done, what he has achieved in both positive and negative ways, and
what that tells us about the light and dark sides of our natures.
BADAL: How do you feel about recent developments in recording technol-
ogy? Some people still argue about the suitability of the digital process.
DAVIS: I like it. I like the sound it produces. Again, its main success has
been in terms ofclarity, I think. The thing one tends to lose-and, actu-
ally, people have found ways around it-is a sort of depth. It's a kind of
voluptuousness that comes somehow from the richness of the lower reg-
ister, and when digital recordings first came in, what bothered me was
that everything seemed to be very toppy. You know, very high. Great
presence of all the upper frequencies.
BADAL: Painful almost.
DAVIS: Yes, painful! And bearing no relationship to what one hears in any
concert hall. This is the philosophical question you were asking earlier, I
think. Have recordings affected the way we think about making music?
ANDREW DAVIS 153
And I think they have, in the certain sense that we all have now got in
our ears certain sounds that you only hear on a recording. That givesone
a slightly artificial view of what an orchestra does sound like. So then,
you know, people actually try to reproduce that in a concert hall, which
has made some orchestras, I think, a little too bright. They've lost that
wonderful kind of ... what's the word I'm looking for?
BADAL: Depth! The Vienna Philharmonic at its best.
DAVIS: Yes, this sort of depth. The Vienna Philharmonic, that's right. And
that's the kind of orchestral sound I would rather listen to than any
other.
ogy they are born into but tend to regard further developments as a
threat. Do you see any danger from the increased application of technol-
ogy to music?
DAVIS: No I don't. I mean, we do know that there is the serious potential
threat to the livelihood oforchestral musicians in the sense that comput-
ers are now able to reproduce, to a certain extent, the sound of an or-
chestra, and they're getting more and more sophisticated all the time. I
think this is a threat in terms of making music for television shows.
BADAL: The music for some TV shows and some films is obviously elec-
tronic.
DAVIS: Yes, that's right. But this is never going to threaten a symphony
orchestra in terms of performing and recording the great spectrum of
classical music. Of course, people have been experimenting. Morton
Subotnick is an interesting composer, for instance, who has made some
interesting experiments with incorporating-
BADAL: Should composers write serious music for the recording medium
like rock artists do?
DAVIS: No, I don't believe that. Well, that is to say, it may well be that a
composer will come up with a concept that is not realizable except on
record. In that case, I would have to say he has got to do it. I mean, if
this is his vision, and it can only be achieved in that medium, then it's
got to be that way. It's unfortunate, I think, that this would then be an
experiencedenied somebody in a concert hall. But I don't think recordings
will ever be any kind of serious threat to the world of concert giving.
That question was first asked so many years ago, and I think it has been
so convincingly proven that, if anything, records have had an advanta-
geous effect because they have made more people fascinated by the world
of orchestral music. And as your friend said, there's no substitute for
seeing Karajan conduct An Alpine Symphony.
ERICH KUNZEL
ERICH KUNZEL'S REPUTATION received an enormous boost in the late 1970S

when he and the Cincinnati Pops began recording for Telarc. The Cleve-
land-based company established its early reputation with a sonically spec-
tacular series of digitally recorded blockbusters, and Kunzel blasted his way
into public awareness and onto the Billboard charts with Telarc's recording
ofTchaikovsky's I8I2 Overture. His subsequent repertoire for the company
has embraced a wide range of imaginative projects, including collections of
light concert pieces, American musicals, and special assemblages of music
from television shows and films such as Round-Up and Chiller. Today, along
with Arthur Fiedler and John Williams, he is one of the most popular and
widely known "pops" conductors.
Our conversation occurred in June of 1988 at Severance Hall during one
ofKunzel's regular visits to the Blossom Music Center. Before his arrival, he
had maintained a schedule that would have exhausted an itinerant vaude-
ville performer: eight concerts in as many days, according to Severance
Hall's public relations staff. His grueling workload had obviously left him
unaffected, for he sailed through the interview on a veritable tidal wave of
energy and enthusiasm. After the interview, he took the short jaunt out to
Telarc's Beachwood offices and signed an exclusive ten-year contract. J;1
BADAL: Maestro, I'm sure most listeners know you through the rather spec-
tacular series ofTelarc recordings you have made. How did that associa-
tion come about?
KUNZEL: Well, Bob Woods was a student in Cincinnati, and he had seen a
lot of my work there. The time came when he and Jack started the com-
pany, and he came to us.[ At that time, we were recording for Moss
Music Group-Vox Records.
154
E R IC H KU N Z EL 15 5

of this book
Eugene Liseand Erich Kunzcl record Ger~hwin'~ Rhapsody in Bll« forTdarc in January 1981.
Pho to by Sandy Underwood. Co urtesy ofTelarc In ternational Co rponl.tion.
BADAL: You still do , don't you?

KUNZEL: No! O h, no.
BADAL: I guess I'm th inking of Pro A rte.
KU},lZEL: But that was Rochester, not Cincinnati. In any case, when the
company started, we recorded rhe I 8n. T hey came down and recorded
the [812 and Capriccio Italien. And that was, of course, a phenom enal
success.
BADAL: It still is.
KUNZEL: O h, yes.
BADAL: Especially now on CD.
KUNZEL: And actually at the t ime, in the early 1980s, all the classical record
com panies were just abo ut to fold. I mean RCA Victor, the whole bunch.
It was the 18[2 that saved Telarc, because without that record . they would
have gone ka-Hukey too. In any case. then Bob realized the com mercial
value of the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Fiedler was gone, John Will-
iams-those records with the Boston Pops were not selling that phe-
nomenally, and there was room in the market for the Kunzel-Cincinnati
collaboration. That's how it all began.
BADAL: Over the years, a definite Cincinnati Pops profile seems to have
developed. Something like Round-Up, for example.This wonderful bunch
of numbers from movies and old TV shows grouped around a Western
theme and set off with spectacular sound effects. Did this profile just
sort of happen, or was it planned?
KUNZEL: Actually, it just happened. I can give you a for instance. Bob and
I plan, more or less, for four years. We throw some things in and delete
sometimes; but right now, in September, we're going to record-I think
the album actually will be called Victory at Sea. We're doing five sections
of Victory ofSea, and the rest will be essentially a compilation ofvarious
things about World War II. And Bob more or less left it to me to decide
what else should be on the album. Well, we put in Casablanca of Max
Steiner because the film took place, you know, during the African cam-
paign. We'll do the '\.%rsaw Concerto because that was used in Suicide
Squadron. Actually, in a couple ofmovies. So, I've got some movie things.
I've got Valiant :Years. That was the documentary of the life of Winston
Churchill that Richard Rodgers wrote music for. So rather than just
doing a suite from the Valiant :Years, I went and got Winston Churchill's
actual speeches that he made over the CBC. We're cleaning them up. So
rather than just playing a suite from Valiant :Years, you're going to hear
his voice. Then I thought, "Well, listen! What started the whole damn
thing?" Pearl Harbor! The bombing there! And then that famous speech
of Roosevelt's, that "Day ofInfamy." So I went and got his speech. And
so you're going to actually hear these important speeches that were given
at the time all this happened. Then I thought, "Well, we've got to have
The Longest Day." And then the march from The Bridge on the River
Kwai. We're going to have that. So I'm actually going to have a whole
ROTC unit come in and march. We're going to have marching! It's just
like Round-Up. You get a feeling of character, of what it was like. It was
a war! It was tough! We're going to have sixteen-inch guns booming in
the thing too. So you'll get marching, whistling, guns, speeches-not
just music, music, music.'
BADAL: This is certainly not a typical pops album.
KUNZEL: It's the Telarc-Kunzel-Cincinnari Pops way of doing things.
ERICH KUNZEL 157
BADAL: I understand it was largely at your suggestion that Katharine

Hepburn was engaged for the Lincoln Portrait.
KUNZEL: Well, at first we both wanted Gregory Peck. Gregory Peck had a
very bad incident doing it in Los Angeles. I don't know what happened,
but he said no. Well actually, the first choice was Ronald Reagan. We
asked, and they said no because of the commercial business. Then I
went to Gregory Peck, and then we were at a loss really. And then Bob
came up with James Earl Jones. Very notable! I said, "Wait a minute! We
have twenty commercial recordings with men doing it. I want a woman
to do it. Lincoln is not here anyway." And then I said, "Well, who has
won more Academy Awards than any actor or actress in the world?
Katharine Hepburn!" So I went and called her up, and it took me two
years to get her to say yes. But it worked, and it's amazing.
BADAL: I'm sure you know that the recording got some bad press because of
the quality of her voice, and I must admit I was put off at first. I think,
however, that a stock method of delivering the text has evolved over the
years, and she rethought it entirely.
KUNZEL: She got words out of that which I've never heard before. The press
was mixed. Well, I mean, some papers like the Washington Post and the
SanFrancisco Chronicle said it was one ofthe finest renditions ever. People
were just used to men, to male voices. I think that was the problem
there. They didn't-the people who didn't listen to her interpretation,
they just listened to her voice-which was wrong! The reason for choos-
ing her was her mastery of the English language. You know, she's so
intelligent, especially with words. Actually, you know, having another
actor do it, like James Earl Jones, probably that record would have got-
ten sort of lost among the twenty other Lincoln Portraits that are now
out. But I think because Katharine Hepburn-
BADAL: It did get noticed.
KUNZEL: Absolutely!
BADAL: I take it from everything you've said that you are involved in the
selection of all the sound effects on your records.
KUNZEL: Bob and I do it together. We both come up with the nutty things.
I mean, he doesn't know about this marching stuff; I'm going to tell him
all this today. On the other hand, a lot of things in Round-Up he came
up with, and I didn't know about them. We both contribute beautifully.
I mean, in that sense it's a fantastic marriage, the two of us. We know we
have to have perfection. That's our basic principle. We even switched the
opening around in TheSoundofMusic. It makes it a better opening too.

We open now with just nature sounds and then "The Hills are Alive."
Then we go to the abbey scene, and then this thing called "Nature Mu-
sic" which was never used in the Broadway show. I found it in the Li-
brary ofCongress. Eight bars that had never been played!This is the first
time it has ever been recorded, the first time it has ever been played.
BADAL: I was going to talk about The Sound ofMusic later, but since you
bring it up, we'll talk about it now. Leonard Bernstein really started
something when he recorded westSideStory with a cast of opera singers.
KUNZEL: There's a difference here. I wanted to do The Sound ofMusic be-
cause my wife is from Tyrol where it all takes place, and I've been there
so often. But the score of TheSoundofMusic is a little bit more operatic,
so once we settled on it, the problem of casting came around. Well, the
only person-I said, "If! can't have Von Stade, I don't want to do The
Sound ofMusic." Because it is a mezzo role, and it has got to be light.
And what sold me on Von Stade was, you can buy the Metropolitan
Opera version of Hansel and Gretel on tape, and I saw Von Stade doing
Hansel. You know, bouncing around. Youthful! And that magnificent
voice she has!When I saw that, I said, "That's Maria." And, ofcourse, it
turned out she's just fabulous.
BADAL: Given her age, didn't you take something of a riskwith Eileen Farrell?
KUNZEL: No, no, not at all. I know Eileen very well. She was my first choice,
but she said no. And that broke my heart. She said, "I'm not singing
anymore." Well, a lot happened. She went into the hospital; her hus-
band went into the hospital while she was there. And then he died. She
had to go back in for an operation. It was a year of just chaos. I called
after that year. Her final concert was with me two years ago in Cincin-
nati; and I called after all this turmoil had happened and said, "I want
you to be the Mother Superior." And she said, "No! I'm never going to
sing again." That broke my heart, it really did. I called her about six
months later; it was just a fluke. I said, "Let me try Eileen again." And
she said, "Yes, I'll do it." And that's how we got Eileen.
BADAL: I heard "Climb Ev'ry Mountain," and the hint of age in the voice is
verymovmg.
KUNZEL: Yes, there are a few things about that. First of all, you have to
remember that the Mother Superior-in the role, in the story-has to
be a lady who has been around a long time. She's running this whole
abbey. So it's not a youthful-it should not be a youthful sound. It should
ERICH KUNZEL 159
be one of stature. Secondly, when we look at all these crossover record-

ings, the one person who started it all was Eileen Farrell. I've Gota Right
to Singthe Blues! She told Rudolf Bing to go to hell, and she did the first
one. So it seemed very appropriate that she be on this album. And the
others, I wanted a European type of thing. You know, someone with a
German accent for Von Trapp. And Hakegard is so dashing, and he did
a beautiful job. His "Edelweiss" is so charming. And then Barbara Daniels
as the bitch, so-called; you know, the countess. I know Barbara because
she was my student at the conservatory in Cincinnati. Now, of course,
she's a great star at the Metropolitan Opera. She has a bitchy sound.
That's why I chose Barbara. Every person had to be meaningfully cast;
each person was cast with real perfection in mind.
BADAL: There are a number ofpeople who would maintain that opera sing-
ers should not be singing American musicals.
KUNZEL: But when you say opera stars singing musicals ... an opera star
and a Broadway musical star can be one and the same person. It's just a
human voice. And ofcourse, there have been crossovers: you know, Helen
Traubel, Ezio Pinza, and quite a few others. It's just a matter of how you
use the voice. Very quickly, during the first rehearsal, Von Stade came in
too big on her first number. I said, "No! Lighten up completely! I don't
want your voice to travel more than three feet away from you. It's not
supposed to 611-" Music Hall is very big; it seats 3,800. I said, "You're
going to have a microphone right here, at least for the performances.
That same style that you're going to use in the performances, you're
going to use on the record. There's not going to be one iota of difference
in production." And she adapted immediately! She's so intelligent. So
opera stars can be musical stars if they're intelligent. Some singers aren't
intelligent, but I had a great cast.
BADAL: I gather that establishing a "correct" text or score was very impor-
tant to you. Musicals are not often treated with that kind of respect. You
said you even found music in the Library of Congress?
KUNZEL: This is the complete Sound ofMusic. There are two versions: the
original Broadway version and the Hollywood version. So in the Holly-
wood version there are three additions. Hammerstein didn't write the
new words; Rodgers wrote the words and music. There's the song that
Maria sings, "I've Got Confidence in Me." So I added that. And then
there's the duet that they sing, "Something Good." So those two. Plus
the big organ beginning of the wedding procession that Rodgers wrote
for Hollywood. These three things I added to the Broadway show. Now,
what came out of the Library of Congress ... The original scores in the
Library of Congress are not under Richard Rodgers, but under Robert
Russell Bennett.' We got a Xerox copy of the original, so actually I con-
ducted from the Xerox of the originals. And we found-I always won-
dered about this. Here you have the opening abbey scene, and then from
there you are supposed to go up in the Alps with Maria dancing around
singing, "The hills are alive with the sound of music." Well, there had to
be some sort of nature thing to get there. And I said to Bob, "All right!
What I want to do is this. After we finish the 'Alleluia', let's just have the
sounds of brooks and birds. Then we'll go to 'The Hills are Alive.'"
When I got the score, I found Richard Rodgers had written eight or ten
bars, I can't remember, of-right at the top, it says "Nature Music." It
was there! Right there! And it's very Hutey and this type of stuff. We still
added the birds as color, but the exact piece I wanted to bridge that gap
was there. And it's wonderful! The other thing they left out of both the
versions, there is a song, a duet, ''An Ordinary Couple." But there's a
sixteen-bar intro to that which was never, ever done on Broadway or in
Hollywood. And it's, "If ever we are married, I'll love you" and things
like that. Von Trapp says this to Maria, and it's beautiful. They're such
meaningful words. This is before they get married. He actually says, ''I'll
be your everything," and then they talk about an ordinary couple. But
that introduction is so important to the plot. And so again, you know, it
was never performed, but I put this in; it's on the record.
BADAL: Are you ever bothered by the people who call the sound effects on
your records gimmicks?
KUNZEL: Well, just look at our catalogue. There's a lot of stuff. I know
everybody thinks, "Well, here we've got Grand Canyon, and we have
thunder. We've got Straussftst, and we've got all the popping champagne
corks and everything else like that." And ofcourse, we don't even have to
mention our Star \.fars type of things. The sound effects-whatever we
do-above all, have to be in good taste. If it's not perfect, we just won't
do it. It has to be ... it has to belong. It's got to be there for a reason. It
makes the whole record a jewel. Now, if people call that a gimmick or
whatever, fine! Let them call it what they want. To us, it's a part of the
whole picture, and it's an important part.
BADAL: And your records have been very successful. Many of them have
been on the Billboard charts.
ERICH KUNZEL 161
KUNZEL: We have seventeen releases now; fifteen have been on the Bill-
board charts. Now that's a damn good record. Fifteen of the seventeen
have been on the Billboard charts. Do you know which two haven't?
BADAL: I ... well, no!
KUNZEL: The Battle Symphony! Even though it has consistently sold very
well. It just goes right along. It's a money maker; they all are. And The
Stokowski Sound.
BADAL: Really!
KUNZEL: And this is a very interesting phenomenon. I don't mind if you
print this because it's an actual true fact. I used to do recordings with the
Rochester Pops on Pro Arte-no longer because I'm exclusive now with
Telarc and Cincinnati. But in any case, my first album with Pro Arte was
a Christmas album; my second album was a LeroyAnderson album called
Syncopated Clock. It went to number two on the charts. At that time,
there was only one CD chart; now, of course you know, there are two.
But at that time, there was just one. It went to number two on the
charts. It was number two for about six weeks; but it was more or less on
the charts for the whole year. Syncopated Clock was on the charts for
about forty weeks. That same year, The Stokowski Sound came out; it
never made the charts. At the end of the year, I got my royalty state-
ments from both companies. The Stokowski Sound sold more units than
Syncopated Clock.
BADAL: That doesn't make sense.
KUNZEL: Doesn't make sense! In other words, it probably didn't have a
quick burst of sales; it just generally sold the whole year and sold more
than Syncopated Clock.
BADAL: I love The Stokowski Sound.
KUNZEL: Oh, it's our favorite. I mean, as far as showing off the real sound
of the orchestra in the hall. There are no gimmicks in that one; there are
no sound effects. It's just the pure Stokowski sound.
BADAL: Are you comfortable working in a recording studio?
KUNZEL: Well, I don't work in a studio; I work in a hall. This is our secret.
Well, it's no secret because we tell everybody. The orchestra sits-in the
rehearsal, in the concert, in the recording session-in exactly the same
place. Everything is marked. Microphones are put in the same place, at
the same angle for everything. Nothing gets changed. 50 in other
words, we're not messing around with anything. For example, when we
did the overture album. I can't ... You see, we do concerts before the
recording sessions. I can't give my audience eight overtures in a row. So

the overtures were planned through various recording sessions over two
years. I did an overture here and an overture there, and the sound is like
they were done at the same session. The simple reason: everybody is
sitting in their same chairs; everything is marked. And that's what makes
it so easy. When we do a recording session, for us it's the same as doing a
concert.
BADAL: I imagine you have everything down to a system.
KUNZEL: The only thing is, I make a log. And every person on every music
stand, everyone in the booth, has a copy of the log. We do such-and-
such a piece, let's say, from 10 to 10:15. Then playback! Then we maybe
fix something, then go to the next thing. There's an absolute log we
follow very strictly; but ofcourse, sometimes I run out of time at the end
because I've misjudged something, perhaps, or something like that. But
we're very, very systematic. It's very easy the way we do it, and we get a
lot done.
BADAL: I assume you believe in long takes.
KUNZEL: Bob lets me do what I want in that sense. For example, I have to
be very careful of my brass-not to overuse them. Maybe I'll switch to
another piece, a softer string thing. Then I'll go back to the brass.
BADAL: Movie and TV actors often become typecast. Do you ever feel that
you have been typecast by your success in the pop repertoire? Do you
sometimes want to do a Beethoven symphony?
KUNZEL: I do conduct one sometimes.
BADAL: Would you record one?
KUNZEL: I don't know if I should. No, I don't think I should. We have
enough Beethovens. Essentially, ifyou look at what we've done with our
Cincinnati Pops-Telarc catalogue, every release is something different-
with the exception of our Star Tracks things. We have a Straussfest; we
have an overture album; we have Orchestral Spectaculars; we have Round-
Up; we have a Hollywood thing; we have GrandCanyon Suite; we have
Rhapsody in Blue. Every release hits at a different market, a different seg-
ment of the audience. Our catalogue is so diverse. And it's continuing.
Coming out right now is a thing called American Jubilee, an Americana
album. A Mancini album is coming out. You're going to hear the glori-
ous sound of the hundred musicians, over a hundred musicians, in the
Cincinnati Pops Orchestra playing his arrangements. It's going to be
ERICH KUNZEL 163
fantastic! We're doing the war album; we're doing a chiller album in
October. We have so many good things coming. I cant-s-I shouldn't
really say, but everything that we've got coming up is fantastic.
I'm recording a record a month for five months starting in August.
August, September, October, November, December. Five months, five
albums we're doing in Cincinnati. And that's a lot, because a lot of work
and preparation goes into each album. There's an Irving Berlin tune! I
can't remember what it's called; it doesn't matter. I have to go to a vault
in a Philadelphia warehouse and meet with the trustees of the Robert
Russell Bennett estate to get the two-and-a-half-minute piece that I want
to record in September. I'm doing this on July 16. I just want that Bennett
version, and it's locked up in a vault. I mean, I will go through anything
to make a record perfect, and I love doing it. A lot of preparation goes
into every record. We just don't go and get the music. Look at all these
film things! There are going to be a lot of film things in the chiller al-
bum. There's a lot of work to getting film scores. I once sent John Will-
iams into his own filing cabinet to get . . . In our third space album
called Star Tracks II we wanted to do "The Planet Krypton" from Super-
man. It sounds a little bit like Also Sprach Zarathustra. Well, I talked to
John, and he said, "We did that in London. Try the London studios."
We called London, and they said, "Well, listen! You know, those orches-
tra parts have long been destroyed, and there is no waywe can get that
music." I called John again and said, "Listen! Have you by any chance-
did you save a duplicate score?"And he said, "I alwaysXerox everything,
but where to find it! Let me work on it." He and his secretary went into
his attic in his Hollywood home to a filing cabinet to get "The Planet
Krypton." We got it copied, and we recorded it. When we want some-
thing, we go after it.
ogy they are born into but regard new developments as threats. Do you
see any danger to music from the newer technologies?
KUNZEL: No! I think as we progress into the twenty-first century ... the
electronics have become so sophisticated; the world has become so so-
phisticated in everything from cars to planes to brains. We love elec-
tronic gadgets; we love perfection. And we have just about achieved it in
recordings. So people are very enthusiastic about the new CD market,
and that market is increasing because people are so stupefied at how
true, how pure and perfect the sound can be. Recording techniques have
gone to astronomical heights of perfection. We're at a zenith, I would
say, in the recording industry, and I think things cannot go anywhere
but to a higher zenith.
BADAL: But isn't there a danger that sound has become so perfect that people
listen to the sound, not the music?
KUNZEL: I think they are one and the same. I mean, I record musically; I
don't record sound.
BADAL: But you have no control over how people listen to the recording.
KUNZEL: No, they can listen in the washtub; they can listen in the bath-
room; they can listen in the car; they can listen to it any way they want.
BADAL: And as I said, isn't there danger that people are only hearing the
sound-especially Telarc'swonderful sound-and are not really hearing
the music?
KUNZEL: Well, no! What they are actually hearing when they hear a Kunzel-
Cincinnati Pops record is the sound that I get on the podium. Now if
they were right there where I am conducting, that's the sound they would
hear. That's the kind ofsound balancing that we do at Telarc. So actually
what they are getting, for the first time, is the pure sound that Erich
Kunzel gets on the podium. For the first time in the history of recording,
at least in Cincinnati, a person is hearing the orchestra exactly the way
the conductor is, not the way some yo-yo in the sound booth is. No
longer do we have this technique of putting microphone by oboes, by
second violins, by violas and all this sort of garbage. No! We've always
had fake sound before; now it's true. There are just three mikes behind
me, and I balance the orchestra for me. No one in the world hears ex-
actly what I hear at the time I'm on the podium. No one in the violin
section, no one in the trumpet section, no one in the auditorium can
hear the orchestra the way I do. And that is what we are capturing in
sound, and that's what's great.
Notes
1. Robert Woods and Jack Renner are the co-founders of Cleveland-based Telarc International
Corporation.
2. Much of this was eventually left out.
3. Orchestrated The Sound ofMusic.

LEONARD SLATKIN
LEONARD SLATKIN HAS enjoyed a particularly successful career in the stu-

dios. Over the years, he has recorded for three major labels, and each of
those associations has yielded significant results.
He achieved his first major success recording for Telarc. At a time when
the company was still building its reputation largely through sonic spec-
taculars, Slatkin and the St. Louis Symphony recorded Dvorak, Ravel, and
other bits ofstandard, unspectacular repertoire. Ultimately, he and his forces
also tackled the first two Mahler symphonies.
His move to EMI produced a series of recordings devoted to American
music: Barber, Bernstein, and Copland-complete recordings, rather than
just the suites, of Rodeo and Billy theKid.
When our interview took place in August of 1988, his association with
RCA was still in its infancy. Considering the moribund state of the label's
activitiesat the time, the alliance has proved remarkably successful. As Slatkin
remarks in this conversation, he transferred the American music series be-
gun at EMI to RCA; records of Copland, Ives, and Piston have since fol-
lowed. The operatic activity to which he alludes finally produced the recent
release of Puccini's La Fanciulla del west. Though hardly the first to do so,
he has even challenged British domination in English music with a com-
plete cycle of Vaughan Williams symphonies and major works by Elgar.
The circumstances under which this interview occurred were hardly con-
ducive to a relaxed, thoughtful exchange of ideas. On a typically humid
summer evening before a Blossom concert, Slatkin emerged from the final
rehearsal clearly hot, exhausted, and hungry. With barely a couple of hours
to spare before the concert, he charged through his dinner and my ques-
tions at the same time. Jr'
165
166 RE C ORl>IN G rnu C LASS iCS
To view thi s jm age, p lease r efer to th e p rint ver sio n

of thi s book
Leonard Slatkin (jorq;ro und) at a recording session of Ravel's Bolero for Telarc in April
1980. Photo by Allan Penchaasky Co urtesy of Telarc International Corporation.
BADAL; Maestro, when you were studying conducting at Juilliard , did any·
one ever tell you that your ability to advance in the profession wou ld at
least partially de pend on your ability to land a record ing cont ract?
S LAT KI N; No! I never thought I would advance in the profession. I really
didn't expect that conducting would give me much more than a bit of
occasional work. I was planning to coupl e it with work in composit ion,
perhaps even in th e film industry. But fortu nately, I had enough exped-
ence when I was growing up , watching sessions with my parents in all
the different musical media.
B ADAL ; The business end of recording is becoming so important . Is this
something you simply have to live with ?
S LAT KI N ; Of course you have to. If we look at this past season, for instance!
Do you really, hon estly believe that M r. Solri desperately wanted to record
the I8n Overture?
B AD AL ; T he performance certainl y didn't sound like he was much inter-
ested in doing it.
LEONARD SLATKIN 167
SLATKIN: That's the point. We all do it. And what does he get in return for
it, or perhaps, what did he get in the past? Moses undAron!I can cite you
examples of pieces I didn't mind recording-as I'm sure he didn't mind
or others haven't minded-but that I did in order to be able to accom-
plish other projects. For instance, there will be forthcoming on RCA a
complete Swan Lake. The Nutcracker did very well for us. I think Swan
Lake is a good score, but not in its entirety, at the same level as The
Nutcracker, for instance, and it was not a very high priority with me to
record a complete Swan Lake. But it does enable me to record the
Shostakovich Eighth in September, which is certainly not going to be a
big seller.
BADAL: When a friend of mine heard I was going to interview you, he said,
"Ask him how he got RCA to record Elgar's The Kingdom."
SLATKIN: It's very interesting. I had done the piece a couple times here in
the States, and when I was asked to do a set of concerts with the London
Philharmonic last season, I asked if I could do TheKingdom. It was that
simple. Originally, we had the Shostakovich Tenth down on the other
program, because that's a piece I do a lot, and I wanted to do it. And
they said, "No, our concert series that you're on is tied in to something
sponsored by the Sunday London Times. And what we do is try to record
the major symphonic work later on a new label called Virgin Classics"-
which has just started in England. And so they said, "Could you suggest
something else, perhaps?" I suggested Walton One. Now, at that time,
out commitments with RCA were not quite so firm as they seem to be
now, and RCA said, "Well, if you reallywanted to record Walton One so
badly, why didn't you tell us in the first place?" Well, at the time, no one
could know that the recording was tied in with the concert series. So
RCA said, "In that case, would you be interested in recording TheKing-
dom since we're there anyway?" You have to understand the new head of
RCA, or BMG Classics as it is now called, is an Englishman, Michael
Emmerson.
BADAL: BMG?
SLATKIN: BMG is the parent company of RCA now. Based out of Munich.
And he simply thought it would be an interesting work to have in the
catalogue. It hadn't been recorded since Sir Adrian Boult did it, which
has, of course, now been reissued. I didn't press to get it done. It's very
interesting; this is one of those things. I had the same reaction that ev-
erybody else had. "Gee, you really want to record The Kingdom?" And
they said yes, and I said, "Terrific." They said, "It will be great." The
thing could use a new recording, certainly a different approach. Not that
Mr. Boult's wasn't wonderful! It's a terrific approach; I just have other
ideas coming from a different generation, a different set of musical cir-
cumstances. Meanwhile, it spawned a whole Elgar project. I mean, people
got really excited about-the performances were received very well by
the audiences, the orchestra, and the press. So we've already recorded the
Variations, a couple ofthe overtures; the Second Symphony gets done in
February; the First Symphony gets done in August next year; and then
come Gerontius, TheApostles, and all the others.
BADAL: I'm a little surprised that RCA would undertake a project like that
at a time when Previn and, I think, a few others are doing Elgar cycles.
SLATKIN: But a lot of the Elgar that I do is stuff they're not doing. In order
to compensate ... you need an Enigma Variations to set off the other
pieces for those who will be interested to see what I do with those works.
I think if we took the attitude that no one should bother to do what
someone else has recorded, we'd have nothing left, would we?
BADAL: Did recording play a part in your musical education, either for-
mally or informally?
SLATKIN: Well, both. My parents were heavily involved in the recording
industry, so from a very young age, I was on the soundstages at Goldwyn,
Warner, and Fox watching the techniques of recording-the prepara-
tion process, the recording process, the editing process. I always knew
about recording; it was always a part of our lives. My parents virtually
made their reputation from recording in their string quartet. So, yes,
recording played a very big part.
BADAL: The older generation ofconductors was very ambivalent about the
whole idea of recording. Younger conductors, however, who have grown
up with recordings seem much more comfortable with them: what they
are, what they can be.
SLATKIN: Oh, I'm not so certain! I think we maybe know a little bit about
what they are, but I think most young conductors have no idea what
they should be at all. The majority of recordings I hear tend to be very
dry and antiseptic with no sense of trying to recreate the performance.
They're a little bit too polished and clean for me. I can't think of any
record I've made where there are not one or two little errors that are
passed over just because I prefer the sweep of a particular passage. I'm
not striving for perfection; I'm trying very hard to produce a record that
LEONARD SLATKIN 169
reflects how I felt about that piece on that given day. And I try to get the
best I can out of it.
BADAL: Some conductors say they conduct differently for recordings than
they do for concerts.
SLATKIN: You have to. You have to. I perform differently from concert to
concert.
BADAL: If you conducted the same piece twice in a row, the second perfor-
mance would be different.
SLATKIN: Hopefully, it's not going to be the same. Sometimes certain tempi
that you can get away with in a concert hall because of the tension and
atmosphere that are there don't come off in a recording. I find some-
times what I might do a little bit slower in the concert hall is a little bit
quicker on a recording just because I don't have an audience there.
BADAL: Leonard Bernstein has wrestled with a similar problem for years.
SLATKIN: So maybe that's why he opted to do his recordings from concerts,
although they usually do come in for a day or two after performances
and patch, to cover up audience coughs and little bleeps and little other
mistakes that happen. In some cases, it works; in some cases, it doesn't, I
suppose.
BADAL: There was a time when the interpretive differences in, say,
Beethoven's Fifth were very great. Today, the interpretive range seems
much narrower. On the one hand, you could say that this narrowing
was simply a natural evolution of our understanding of how the piece
should be played. On the other hand, it seems to me that you could say
that recordings are establishing interpretive boundaries.
SLATKIN: Well, that's true to a certain degree. Certain conceptions about
tempi have changed. As each generation passes, however, certain stabi-
lizing forces come to pass. I think you can almost begin to categorize
Toscanini as the turning point when things began to come, to a certain
degree, into focus. And now they are out of focus again if you really
think about it. For instance, Mahler has now become quite-you can
have a discrepancy of up to 15 minutes in a symphony on recordings.
BADAL: There's a three-minute difference between Knappertsbusch and Ri-
chard Strauss in the Fliegende Hollander Overture.
SLATKIN: Well, Strauss had a different set of problems to deal with, didn't
he? He had to get the music down in a certain amount of time. Also,
I've never found composers really could be trusted in tempi anyway,
especially in their own work. If you look at Stravinsky and hear two
recordings of the same work, the tempi change. Usually, a composer, for
the most part, is recording a work quite a good deal after it was written,
and so the original impulse, the creative juice, has passed. They're look-
ing at it from afar as opposed to the time they created it. Bernstein is a
good example. Just look at the timings over the course of, say twenty or
thirty years from when he first recorded a work of his until now. You'll
see rwo-, three-minute differences. It's amazing! I think people say "That
was too fast" or "That was too slow" in relationship to how they think it
should go. But for the most part, I'm finding that conductors these days
are tending to look towards extremes. For me, it's either too fast or too
slow, moving away from middle ground.
BADAL: You feel this way about recorded performances?
SLATKIN: Oh, yes. Do you think Kleiber's Beethoven sounds like anybody
else's?
BADAL: Carlos Kleiber?
SLATKIN: Yes.
BADAL: No, I guess it doesn't.
SLATKIN: Solti's? Look how slow the new Ninth is, for instance.
BADAL: No slower than his older one.
SLATKIN: Oh, yes!The third movement is much slower, much slower. Now
we have the penchant for listening to things in so-called authentic per-
formance practices on original instruments. Look at the "authentic"
performances now with ... what's his name?
BADAL: Hogwood?
SLATKIN: Norrington! Now there are fifteen minutes chopped right off the
Ninth Symphony. Just like that! Even with the repeats!
BADAL: I've seen films ofToscanini, Furrwangler, Knappertsbusch, Walter,
Klemperer, Erich Kleiber, Mengelberg, and Koussevitzky. Whether you
agree with their performances or not, they all had one thing in common:
They were visually very compelling. Even the ones like Walter and Kleiber,
who were certainly not charismatic in the sense that Toscanini was, compel
your attention.
SLATKIN: It was a different era.
BADAL: You see conductors today who are not compelling in the same way.
They may be superb musicians and have wonderful techniques, but they
don't compel your attention. Recordings separated the visual side of a
performance from the aural side. Could that account for this difference?
SLATKIN: I don't think so. I think that the conductor used to be a great
LEONARD SLATKIN 171
figure of mystery. And you tell me how many interviews you actually
saw in the press with a Knappertsbusch or a Mengelberg. You didn't
know much about the conductor other than he was the conductor. Pe-
riod! Even Toscanini! There are not many interviews. Bruno Walter?
Not much! So this hugely mysterious figure would come out on the
stage. That quality would transcend into recordings: you know, the mys-
tery of the whole thing. Szell was the same way. There just isn't that
much in interview form. And as we come to the close of our century,
with so much attention from both the print and aural media, the con-
ductor, as any artist now, is much less a figure of mystery. They are more
communicative with their public in a manner aside from the musical
one.
BADAL: I'm not sure that deals with the issue.
SLATKIN: All right, let's put it a different way. Look at the conductors now
who still create that mystery. Kleiber! How many interviews with him?
BADAL: None.
SLATKIN: Giulini?
BADAL: Some.
SLATKIN: Not much!
BADAL: I think we're talking about two different things. I'm talking about
the podium aura.
SLATKIN: Doesn't matter! In that era, the earlier era, that mystery ... it was
a mystery to everybody whether you heard it on a recording or not. You
didn't know anything about the artist. You didn't know.
BADAL: I haven't seen Kleiber live, but I've seen him on Tv. I find him
enormously compelling to watch, but that has nothing to do with what
I know about him or don't know about him.
SLATKIN: I wonder.
BADAL: There is simply something about him which is very compelling.
SLATKIN: This is true; he has an unbelievable communicative power. I know
what you mean, but that's part of the art of conducting-the ability to
transcend, transcend the music in a way. For some, for me, it distracts
from the music, unfortunately, but there's-you find yourself drawn into
it. Who can say what that is?Who knows? It doesn't matter whether it's
recording or live. I know many conductors who don't record well.
BADAL: Some kinds of performances don't repeat well.
SLATKIN: We also have a backlog of more performances out there in the
marketplace. For instance, I find now increasingly I'm not listening so
much to the older conductors anymore because there have been so many
other statements of all this music; but when I was growing up, listening
to Toscanini or Bruno Walter, or whoever it was, was a fascinating expe-
rience because there wasn't that much else. Just a few conductors out
there to listen to. Now, everybody's out there, including myself There
are records I don't want to listen to again.
BADAL: When conductors begin to make records they usually avoid reper-
toire that has been frequently recorded such as Beethoven and Brahms
symphonies.
SLATKIN: Most companies wouldn't want it.
BADAL: When you recorded the Mahler First and Second for Telarc, Mahler
was still, to a degree, the property of people who had Mahler reputa-
tions. Did that bother you when you recorded them?
SLATKIN: No. Why? What good does it do? I never feel I'm in competition
with anybody when I make a record. In general, I make a record because
I feel I've arrived at a point where I have something to say about the
piece and that it will probably not change too much in concept in the
next few years. That's the reason I recorded all the Rachmaninov works
when I did; that's the reason I'm doing so much Shostakovich right now
and so much Elgar. I'm at a point in my life now where I'm very secure
in the music and wish to get it down as I feel it. There are other pieces I
don't want to record yet. I would be remiss if! started a Beethoven cycle
because I'm not settled in all of them yet. That doesn't mean I don't do
them well, but I don't do them to my satisfaction yet. A recording repre-
sents a time. Look how many conductors are already ... Von Karajan
has done his third or fourth Beethoven cycle. Solti is around his second
Mahler cycle. You know, everybody is rerecording. I'm not so anxious to
rerecord things. I've been approached, though, in a certain repertoire.
But I just don't think about who else did what, and I certainly don't
listen to anyone else's performance before I go into a performance of a
work or before I record it. I have memories of certain things, and-
BADAL: Are there any special performances you've heard which come back
to haunt you?
SLATKIN: You mean of other conductors? Oh, sure! Earlier in the year, I
heard Bernstein do a Le sacre du printempswith the Tanglewood Festival
Orchestra-not the Boston Symphony, the students. I can't say it came
back to haunt me; but since then, whenever I do the piece, I really-I'll
never get it that way. I'd love to, but I can't. It was too good. It was just
LEONARD SLATKIN 173
... In a way, I may put the piece aside now for a few years because it was
that good. There's no reason to do the piece now. This was, for me, how
it should go.
BADAL: We still play games over what kind of conductor we went to record
a certain repertoire. We want to hear a Frenchman do Ravel and an
Italian do Rossini. You did that cycle ofAmerican works for EMI. Now,
I'm certain you were happy to do them-
SLATKIN: Oh, I was very happy to do them; it was our idea.
BADAL: But as an American, did you feel a little typecast?
SLATKIN: No, because I have the Russian stuff and the English stuff going.
We have Brahms out there; we have all kinds-I think we do a varied
repertoire. But when you stop and think about truly outstanding col-
laborations of conductor and orchestra, you almost inevitably also tie
them to a certain repertoire. For instance, Solti-Chicago! Ormandy-
Philadelphia!
BADAL: Ansermet and the-
SLATKIN: Suisse Romade. Karajan-Berlin! Even though we do, of course, a
broad repertoire, I wanted with my orchestra anyway-If we are going
to make a mark in this world, I felt it was important for us to be known
for a certain kind of repertoire. Ifyou want to call it typecasting, you can
call it that, but I told the orchestra that we won't neglect anything at
home, but on the road, this is what we are going to do primarily. And it's
exactly what we do, and it serves us very well.
BADAL: Are you comfortable working in a recording studio? Some conduc-
tors are very straightforward about certain problems they have to work
to overcome in this studio.
SLATKIN: First of all, I don't-unless I'm in Europe, I don't record in a
studio; I record in our own hall in St. Louis. So we're all comfortable.
We know the acoustics; that's no problem. All the recordings that we
make in St. Louis, and now even the ones I do in Europe. A lot of Euro-
pean orchestras are surprised because I take the American technique into
the sessions. If it's a symphony, I do one complete take of the whole
work without stopping.
BADAL: Simon Rattle does the same thing.
SLATKIN: Then I go back, do another take of a movement, and then fix it
up as to whatever needs fixing. So in general, I have a concept of the
whole work to build from. Although once in a while, I start and I feel
it's just not going right, so I stop and do it over again. I mean, not
technically, but somehow it's not happening. I'll just stop, take a little
break and come out and do it again. It's the easiestway to work. Once in
a while, a certain piece will be easier to record in sections. We did Appa-
lachian Spring that way; Swan Lake, of course, would have to be done
that way. But symphonic works tend to be very long arcs.
BADAL: Does it bother you not to have an audience present when you record?
SLATKIN: No. We rehearse that way anyway, and it's not a problem there. So
recording is not much different. And if I don't need an audience at re-
hearsal ... I try to keep a certain intensity in rehearsal. It's relaxed, but
it's also intense. My orchestra knows that what they get from me at re-
hearsals is at least what they'll get in performance. Sometimes, they get a
little more. But I never just sort of-first ofall, I never rehearse sitting in
a chair. So I'm always conducting as if it were a performance to start
with. But I always give as much as I can, and recording is the same thing.
I just do the best I can. We still know that people are in the booth
listening, so whether we can see them or not doesn't matter. We know
they're there. The recordings that I consider the most successful are the
ones where we somehow feel the presence of an audience.
BADAL: Which ones do you consider have that quality?
SLATKIN: Oh, I think the Thomas Tallis Fantasia of Vaughan Williams is
like that. I think the D Major Brahms Serenade we did is like that. I
think Mahler Two is like that, certainly. A couple of the Rachmaninov
things have that, too.
BADAL: How did your association with Telarc come about?
SLATKIN: They came and visited us. They approached us many years ago. It
was when they were just starting out, and they wanted to take on an-
other ensemble other than the Cleveland Orchestra. I don't quite know
why. They just came; and it turned out to be very,very fruitful for every-
body for the time it existed. I'm sort of sad not to be able to work with
them right now, because I always enjoyed the integrity of the company
and what they stood for, but my repertoire has moved in a direction that
Telarc just isn't into, anyhow at the moment. But there's always the fu-
ture. Maybe in the future. But I think we're looking at most ofthe marbles
going into the RCA department anyway-including, possibly, the EMI
repertoire. I may shift it over to RCA. When you stop and think about-
you wouldn't know anyway because most of this stuff isn't out yet, but
I'm doing about nine or ten records a year. Now that's a lot. And of
LEONARD SLATKIN 175
these, five or six are in St. Louis. A year! That's a lot for an American
orchestra. And there's my relationship with the London Philharmonic
and now the Bayerischen Rundfunks.
BADAL: I didn't realize that.
SLATKIN: Yes, I'm doing a lot of concerts with them and things like that.
And so there's a lot of talk about some recording projects in that depart-
ment, too, including, possibly, operas.
BADAL: That's one of those orchestras that can play beautifully for the right
conductor, but can also play very badly.
SLATKIN: I know! We had a good time. First of all, I had the worst cold in
the world. I got off the train; it was snowing, and I was sneezing, and my
eyes were tearing. And somebody came up after the first rehearsal and
said, "You know, this is the first time we ever made a conductor cry from
the first rehearsal." It's a very nice kind of relationship. We've had a good
time, and I enjoyed it.
ogy they are born into but regard subsequent developments as threats.
Do you see any danger to music from the application ofall these rapidly
changing technologies?
SLATKIN: Well, if that were the case, then we'd still be in the mono age we
started with when I grew up in the 1950S, without stereo! So I've seen, at
least in my own lifetime, I've seen us go through phases. I've seen us go
in and out of quadrophonic quickly.
BADAL: Ironically, at least as far as I understand it, digital techniques make
quad a much more plausible option.
SLATKIN: They do, they do! Although I still think it's artificial. I mean, it
was a gimmick then; it's a gimmick now.
BADAL: How many people had a room big enough for it to work?
SLATKIN: I had a room, but it didn't work. The assumption is-I would not
want the Philadelphia Orchestra in my living room; I don't want the so-
called reality element. I want the best recorded sound I can get, not the
best live sound I can get, in my living room.
BADAL: Well, we all accept this to a certain extent.
SLATKIN: No, we don't.
BADAL: We talk about realistic sound, but we don't really mean it in that
sense.
SLATKIN: Well, if we truly wanted realistic sound, we would find great hy-
pocrisy, especially in the early music movement, because the sound you
hear on period instruments in a recording is quite another matter from
what you would hear in a 2,7oo-seat concert hall.
BADAL: The sound would be much louder on records.
SLATKIN: It's louder, yes; but it's all a big distortion for me. I find it all-not
fraudulent, but I find the acceptance of it a little bit too superficial.
BADAL: Companies also went in for some rather bizarre orchestra seating
arrangements when they recorded things in quad.
SLATKIN: Who wants to sit in the middle of the orchestra and listen? And if
you sat in the middle of the orchestra, you wouldn't hear everything. But
we do make seating adjustments when we record choral works a lot of
the time. You'llfind the chorus is in the back of you, behind you. So you
kind of conduct sideways.
BADAL: Does that bother you?
SLATKIN: No, not if everyone knows it real well. You're trying to get the
best recorded sound you can, so you make adaptations when you can.
I'm not sure I would want to record the Verdi Requiem in that manner,
but who knows? But back to your original question! I'm keenly inter-
ested in the changing of technologies. I did grow up with a sound in my
ears-not so much a recorded one, but a live one-because of my up-
bringing. I know the kind of string sound I'm looking for, and I try to
find a way to get that in recording. Sometimes I get it; sometimes it
doesn't happen.
BADAL: Is that your fault or the fault of the guy in the control room?
SLATKIN: It can be mine. It depends on the day. It can be everything. Hu-
midity sometimes enters into it, how the players are feeling one day.The
sound can change, the sound can change. But for the most part, I'm
finding the sound I'm getting on discs is pretty close to what I imagine
in my head. A lot of people don't like it. They don't think it's quite high
tech enough. I don't like so much multimiking because you don't have
very much control on the stage. Then there's more control in the booth
than there is on the stage. I would rather make my own mistakes out
there than have somebody fix them right and left for me.
BADAL: What do you think of this debate that still rages over analog versus
digital techniques?
SLATKIN: Oh, nonsense! High-speed analog and digital-I can't tell the
difference. I like to think I have relatively good ears, and I can't hear any
difference. The only thing I find with digital technology-and this is
LEONARD SLATKIN 177
where the past does come up-is that we're certainly not used to hearing
that clean a sound on a record. Without hiss, without distortion. We're
just not used to that. Sometimes-it depends on the company, and it
depends on how things were done-I find it's a little bit too ... let me
see. .. not high oriented.
BADAL: Of course, that was one of the main criticisms of digital sound.
SLATKIN: Yes. It's not quite the word I was going to use for it. But for me the
beauty of digital technique really is not the ability to capture the wide
spectrum of sound so much as it is the ability to really get something as
soft as you like. Although even there, I found I couldn't do what I wanted.
I've done certain things so soft that they said, "No! We can't have that.
It's too soft. It won't come out on the disc." And I said, "Even on a CD?"
They said, "You can't play something quite that softly." Obviously we
still have a ways to go with the technology! DAT [digital audio tape]?
Who knows? At the moment, it sounds like another five years before it
even takes. I'm not sure how viable it is. The argument seems to be more
of a copyright problem than it does a sound technology problem.
BADAL: Are you ever bothered by the thought that people become so wrapped
up in the sound that they don't hear the music?
SLATKIN: Oh, yes! I think the problem of people bringing that sound into
the concert hall is the biggest danger there is. "It didn't sound like my
record" is the worst thing I ever want to hear. A concert experience is an
entirely different matter for me. The wayan orchestra sounds in a hall
with an audience there and with the tension is very different from re-
cording in terms of the sound itsel£ And let's face it: a recording also
unfortunately makes the assumption that everybody's ears are the same,
and they're not. Everybody hears things differently.
BADAL: In a way, the assumption also seems to be that all our playback
equipment is the same, too.
SLATKIN: True! But all these things come into play. No two people are going
to hear a performance in the same way, both emotionally and simply
aurally. It's not going to happen; it's not going to happen. I hope it's not,
anyway.
NEEME JARVI
No ONE COULD have predicted a decade ago that Neeme Jarvi-a little-
known recent Estonian emmigrant-would eventually become one of the
most frequently recorded conductors, producing a discography ofsuch bulk
as to rival the outputs of Bernstein and Karajan. Those two eminent mae-
stros, however, recorded for the major companies and built their vast lega-
cies around the core of the standard repertoire; Jarvi, in a totally unique
fashion, established his reputation by exploring obscure and unusual reper-
toire (Stenhammar, Tubin, Glazunov) on relatively minor labels (Chandos,
BIS, Orfeo). Part of the Jarvi method also involves recording entire cycles
of compositions, not just isolated works: all eight Glazunov symphonies
for Orfeo, the four Berwald symphonies for Deutsche Grammophon, all
seven Prokofiev symphonies-including both versions of the Fourth-for
Chandos.
As Jarvi's fame grew, he not only began making more determined forays
into the standard repertoire (Shostakovich, Richard Strauss, Schubert), but
found Deutsche Grammophon growing more receptive to some of his less-
than-traditional notions about recording projects. Hence the cycles ofsym-
phonies by Rimsky-Korsakov, Berwald, and Borodin.
At the time ofour interview in July of1990, his recording plans with the
Detroit Symphony were obviously in a state of flux. In this conversation,
he raises the issue of to which label he and that ensemble would devote
their services, a question ultimately decided in favor of Chandos. He also
mentions the possibility of recording American music with his then-new
ensemble; and with a typical Jarvi flourish, he subsequently picked music
by William Grant Still, Amy Beach, and Duke Ellington. J;1
178
NEEME JARVI 179
To view this im a ge, please refer to th e p rint ver sion

of this book
Neeme Jarvi. Courtesy of Columbia Artists Management. Inc.
BADAL: Ma estro, I saw you conduct here in Cleveland back in 1981. It W a5 a

performance of Samson et Delila with the Met. Almost no one knew
who you were then, but today you are very well known. Pan of the
reason, of cou rse, is that you have made so many recordi ngs. Did your
recording career stan in the West?
J ARVI: Before it was Melod iya on ly.
BADAL: Really!
J ARVI: A lot of Mclodiya record ings when I was in Eston ia. All my previous
work was done for Eston ian radio, also some Melod iya recordings .
BADAL: What did you record for Melod iya?
J ARVI: All Estonian music. It was no t even known in the Soviet Union, in
Moscow, because t ha t was some kin d of loca l policy: if you do Esto -
nian music. let's keep it in Estonia. But Estonia was absolutely a dosed
country in the Soviet Union, a military place. There was no way to

show my art outside. Only in Estonia. I went out sometimes to conduct
orchestras abroad. Not, of course, in the Soviet Union, but abroad, cer-
tain Eastern Bloc countries. It was not enough for me. Also, I thought
we had very interesting composers in Estonia, for example, Arvo Part
and Edward Tubin and Heino Eller, and all this, until quite recent time,
was unknown outside Estonia.
BADAL: You raise an interesting question. A lot of the repertoire you have
recorded is hardly mainstream: Tubin and Gade for BIS, Glazunov for
Orfeo, How did you and these labels decide on this repertoire?
JARVI: When I came to the Western world, it was 1980. Then I got work-
of course, not in America because nobody knew me here-but with the
Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra. There was a free position, and I started
to work there. Immediately, I thought it would be nice to do something
interesting there because Gothenburg is not Stockholm; it's not
Copenhagen; it's not Oslo. It's the second city of Sweden ... very good
tradition! I was very proud to be conductor ofthis great orchestra founded
by Wilhelm Stenhammar, so we started with Stenhammar. Who was
Stenhammar? I didn't know very much about Stenhammar. Only his
Second Symphony was known. So we started to make recordings of this
composer's music, to show the musical world there is not only the Sec-
ond Symphony and the Serenade, but also the First Symphony and a lot
more music. Also Edward Tubinl An Estonian composer who lived in
Sweden. For me, it was some kind of national-I had to start to show
music from my country. I started with the Tubin Symphony NO.4. It
has an interesting history. The Tubin Symphony NO.4 never existed
before the recording. It was burned during wartime. He brought this
score to Sweden, but it was so badly damaged, it was impossible to play.
And I said to him, "Listen! You have to make that NO.4 ready for me
because I want to record all your music."
"Ah, don't play that music," he said. "It's bad music, and it's not nec-
essary to play this. This is rubbish. I have much better things."
But finally he did it for me, and it was first played in Bergen. It was
the same time when we recorded the Stenhammar First Symphony. And
the same time the BIS recording company picked up the Stenhammar
symphony, live recording, they took the Tubin Symphony NO.4 from
Bergen and released these two records. BIS will do these things, not
because there is money, no, but it is the kind of company which-really
NEEME JARVI 181
enterprising! And the company was successful with these two pieces, so
we did the complete symphonies of Stenhammar and Tubin. I thought
it was much more interesting to introduce something unknown to the
musical world than to start to repeat the same mainstream repertoire.
But very soon, I went to the Scottish National Orchestra. And my pre-
decessor was Alexander Gibson, who played a lot of Scandinavian music
in Scotland. In concert and recording. Sibelius's music! My way was to
start something else in Scotland which was new for the Scottish orches-
tra. Russian repertoire!
BADAL: The Prokofiev symphonies.
JARVI: Prokofiev symphonies for Chandos. We started there first. And now
we have done almost fifteen records, about fifteen records; and we are
going to celebrate Prokofiev's anniversary in a great way because there is
a lot of good music. 1 We have recorded all the symphonies and sym-
phonic poems. And then came Shostakovich, and then a lot of music
like Balakirev with the City of Birmingham Orchestra, and then a lot of
Glazunov music, and Kallinikov, and slowly we came to Dvorak. Slavic
music! Dvorak comes closer to the mainstream, but still not in the main-
stream because there are not very many people who have recorded the
complete Dvorak symphonies. It is usually Seven, Eight, Nine, and that's
it! It is good to be together with a creative record company which un-
derstands artists very well. Maybe it needs mainstream repertoire in its
catalogue, but it understands an artist who wants to do something re-
ally unusual. I give the ideas to them, and they pick up the ideas imme-
diately.
BADAL: Do you feel smaller companies are more receptive to these ideas
than larger companies are?
JARVI: Yes, of course. As I see it, all these big labels are repeating each other.
BADAL: You did the Berwald symphonies for Deutsche Grammophon.
JARVI: Yes, and this is also unusual. But it is-actually I'm very happy about
that. Deutsche Grammophon also now picks up my ideas, ideas which
are not very mainstream. Now come things like Shostakovich Thirteen,
Fourteen, and so on. Things like this. Grieg! Not only Peer Gynt, but the
Symphony, In Autumn, and things like this. Interesting things! A very
good relationship with the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra and
Deutsche Grammophon.
BADAL: I've actually heard people say, "It's wonderful that Jarvi records
all this unusual repertoire, but he does so much recording-standard
repertoire and unusual things. He just can't know all this music very well
when he records it.
JARVI: They are not right! Because this recording process started only ten,
let's say six or seven years ago. But I have lived a long life before this. I
have conducted for thirty years, but my recording started only six years
ago or seven years ago.
BADAL: Your Western recording activities.
JARVI: My Western recording activities. I did a lot of recording for Melodiya
before. I know very well all the classical, mainstream repertoire. I stud-
ied at the Leningrad Conservatory. Every day for five years in conduct-
ing classes, the talk was of Richard Strauss, Brahms, Beethoven, and all
these. Mahler and Bruckner! And when my teachers, Nikolai Rabinovich
and Yevgeni Mravinski-these were all our pedagogues-were young-
sters, student fellows, Otto Klemperer and Bruno Walter and
Knappertsbusch came to Petrograd. These conductors conducted every
week, every month in Petrograd.
BADAL: Was this during the I930s?
JARVI: It was the 1930S, yes-1920S, 1930S, the Nazi time. They came to
conduct in Soviet Russia; they all came to Russia. Bruno Walter did lots
of performances at the Kirov Theater-Maryinsky Theater! Later it was
the Kirov. And our repertoire was that classical repertoire. But I'm not
very keen to do this repertoire now because everyone is doing it. I think
it is much more interesting to introduce to the musical world pieces
which are less known.
BADAL: Do you feel it's important to perform a piece in concert before you
record it?
JARVI: Very important! And I have done almost everything that way. That
means I do it first in concert, then record it. Some ... some pieces I have
recorded cold, let's say. JUSt recorded them! Bur basically I perform a
piece first always. But I perform it-not in Berlin, not in New York, not
in famous capitals, but in the smaller places. People don't know about
these performances.
BADAL: Let me ask you a philosophical question. When you record Gade,
Tubin, or Berwald, those recordings become documents of the music,
bur when you record Schubert, Brahms, or Richard Strauss, don't those
recordings become documents of you as a musician?
JARVI: Yes, of course! I try to show myselfwhen I do these Richard Strauss
recordings, how different I am from other conductors. I don't like very
NEEME JARVI 183
much to do him like some kind of-some people think there is a tradi-
tion, and they ask, "Why is he doing it that way?" I do it my way. "Why
is he rushing here? Why is he doing these things here?" Because it's my
view. Why not do it that way if it is persuasively done?
BADAL: Your recent recording of the Franz Schmidt Second with the Chi-
cago Symphony on Chandos was a live recording. I'm not exactly sure
how many of your recordings were live. How do you feel about live
recordings?
JARVI: It depends on the situation, which orchestra is playing. Live record-
ing can be very, very good. If you know it's a live recording, you behave
like it's a recording studio and not so much like making a concert. I tell
you, the Stenhammar First and the Tubin Fourth ... we didn't know if
these performances were recorded or not. I knew the Schmidt was being
recorded. We recorded it during the four performances, and we had to
put it together some way. I knew we had to be careful. In a live concert,
you don't care about-it's natural music making.
BADAL: Furtwangler's live recordings were far freer than his studio record-
Ings.
JARVI: And I think he didn't know his concerts were being recorded. You
hear seeking, freedom, a free interpretation. Every performance is differ-
ent. He was a creative person. He was doing things that were all the time
different. There were no rules. "This tempo must be this way; that tempo
must be this way; it must slow down in this way." No! It is some kind of
feeling ... it comes so naturally. And this is what you feel from these
concert tapes of Furrwangler,
BADAL: Do you feel records have an important role to play?
JARVI: I think so. I think so. Because we can't play all this repertoire in-if
you look at some American orchestras, for example, all these big cities
and smaller cities have the same team ofsoloists, same rype of repertoire,
same style of repertoire. And the main talk is that audiences want that.
Audiences want this or they will not come to the concert. I think it is
necessary to make right repertoire policies, to play proper proportions of
things in concert, to try to play in concerts unusual works as much as
possible. And then try to record them, the unusual pieces. Also, record-
ing is the only way unknown orchestras come to be really known orches-
tras. You can't travel so much; you can't tour so much. There is a finan-
cial situation. You can't go everywhere, but recordings can.
BADAL: What would you like to record with the Detroit Symphony?
JARVI: Very difficult, yes-good question. It all depends on the financial

situation in Detroit. As you know, a financially troubled orchestra! But I
think we get a good level of orchestral playing already, and we get sup-
port from society. We need to do recordings, and not ... maybe go to
American music. There are a lot of interesting things in America.
BADAL: Ives?
JARVI: Yes, Ives, ofcourse! But he is more known. There's the whole Boston
school and a lot of composers which are not-are underrecorded. And
we might try to do something like this. Piston and Creston. A lot of
interesting things.
BADAL: What label would you record for with the Detroit Symphony? The
orchestra used to record for London.
JARVI: Yes, I know. But I'm committed until 1993with Chandos. And we
will see how things develop later.
ogy they are born into but regard subsequent development as threats.
Do you see any danger to music from the application ofall these rapidly
changing technologies?
JARVI: Danger? There is no danger. It is good to have new developments. If
there is digital sound now, if there is a compact disc era, or whatever,
that's a good thing. I'm a little bit unhappy, though, because I some-
times miss this regular 33 stereo sound, real natural stereo sound. It is a
little bit artificial for me sometimes.
BADAL: Digital technology?
JARVI: Digital technology. The very first CD ... when I heard it, it was a
very artificial feeling for me. And if things go ahead that way, maybe it's
not good.
BADAL: There have always been people who feel digital sound is artificial.
JARVI: Yes, artificial. This kind of very close ... where there is not space
enough. Sometimes space is made artificially, and that I don't like. Arti-
ficial space! But that you feel immediately is wrong. But maybe that also
develops a little bit. For example, more spacious sound. It depends very
much on the hall, where you are doing things, where you are recording.
A hall like the Concertgebouw. Marvelous, beautiful recording, and with
digital equipment. A marvelous sound.
Note
1. The one hundredth anniversary of his birth in r891.

BIB LI 0 G RAPHY
Amek, Samuel. This Was Toscanini. New York: Vanguard, 1963.

Bohm, Karl. A LifeRemembered: Memoirs. Translated by John Kehoe. London and
New York: Marion Boyars, 1992.
Bruno Walter in Conversation with Arnold Michaelis. Columbia Masterworks, BW
80.
Chapin, Schuyler. LeonardBernstein: Notes from a Friend. New York:Walker, 1992.
Chotzsinoff, Samuel. Toscanini: An Intimate Portrait. New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
195 6.
Culshaw, John. Putting the Record Straight: The Autobiography ofJohn Cutshaw.
New York: Viking, 1981.
- - - . Ring Resounding. New York: Viking, 1967.
Daniel, Oliver. Stokowski: A Counterpoint ofView. New York: Dodd Mead, 1982.
Dorati, Antal. Notes of Seven Decades, rev. ed. Detroit: Wayne State University
Press, 1981.
Eisenberg, Evan. The Recording Angel: Explorations in Phonography. New York:
McGraw-HilI,1987'
Haggin, B. H. Conversations with Toscanini. New York: Doubleday, 1959.
Hart, Philip. Conductors: A New Generation. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons,
1979·
Heyworth, Peter, ed. Conversations with Klemperer: London: Victor Gollancz, 1973.
Horowitz, Joseph. Understanding Toscanini: How He Became an American Culture
Godand Helped Create a NewAudiencefor OldMusic. NewYork:Alfred A. Knopf,
1987.
Leinsdorf Erich. Cadenza: A MusicalCareer. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1976.
- - - . The Composer's Advocate: A RadicalOrthodoxyfor Musicians. New Haven,
Conn.: Yale University Press, 1981.
McClure, John. "For the Record: Leonard Bernstein in the Studio." In Sennets 6-
Tuckets: A Bernstein Celebration, edited by Steven Ledbetter, II5-21. Boston:
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186 BIBLIOGRAPHY
Matheopoulos, Helena. Maestro: Encounters with Conductors of Today. New York:

Harper & Row, 1982.
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1989.
Parrott, Jasper with Vladimir Ashkenazy. Ashkenazy: BeyondFrontiers. New York:
Atheneum, 1985.
Peyser,Joan. Bernstein: A Biography. New York: William Morrow, 1987.
Robinson, Paul. Solti. New York: Vanguard, 1979.
Rodzinski, Halina. Our Two Lives. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1976.
Russell, John. ErichKleiber: A Memoir. London: Andre Deutsch, 1957.
Sachs, Harvey. Reflections on Toscanini. New York: Grove Weidenfeld, 1991.
- - - . Toscanini. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1978.
Schonberg, Harold C. The Great Conductors. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1967.
Schonzeler, Hans-Hubert. Furtwiingler. Portland, Ore.: Amadeus, 1990.
Shirakawa, Sam H. The Devil's Music Master: The Controversial Life and Career of
Wilhelm Furtwiingler. New York: Oxford University Press, 1992.
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RECORDING THE CLASSICS
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RECORDING THE CLASSICS

Recording the Classics

THE KENT STATE UNIVERSITY PRESS

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

1. C ond uctors-Int erviews. 2. Performance practice (Musicl-s-zorh cenruty. 3. Sound

British Library Cataloging-i n-Publicat ion data are available.

Christoph von Dohnanyi 59

Riccardo Chailly II7

Pierre Boulez 127

Andrew Davis 14°

Erich Kunzel 154

THIS SERIES OF conversations originally grew out of a professional

lowe a debt of gratitude to John T. Hubbell, director of The Kent State

Sue Sackman, RosieWithem, and Debbie Clark at SeveranceHall in Cleve-

THERE IS A STORY, perhaps apocryphal, about a young journalist who

Recordings have increased the general public's knowledge and sophistication

2. Schonberg, Great Conductors, 220.

an opportunity to study the evolution of his approach to this repertoire

cess to the (admittedly scanty) documentation of Klemperer in his pre-

3. Hans-Hubert Schonzeler, Furtwangler (Portland, Ore.: Amadeus, 1990), 15I.

headed for the control room.' Apparently Klemperer registered genuine

4- John Culshaw, Ring Resounding (New York: Viking, 1967), 69.

6. Samuel Chorzinoff Toscanini: An IntimatePortrait (New York:Knopf, 1956), 141; B. H. Haggin,

Relativeyouth is, however, no real guarantee of technical literacy or com-

Symphonie fantastique which resulted in Maazel polishing off the piece as

distributing European-manufactured discs-with their silent surfaces and

8. Culshaw, RingResounding, zro-rr.

About twenty-five years ago, Deutsche Grammophon recorded all the

Tristan und Isolde for Deutsche Grammophon at Bayreuth in 1966, the

most as heavily as solid musical credentials. Apparently Zubin Mehta

but everyattempt has been made to preserve individual usagesand phrasings.

BEFORE LORIN MAAZEL came to Cleveland in 1972 as George Szell's succes-

To view this im a ge, pl ea se refer to th e print version

BADAL: Maestro, cond ucto rs of your generation seem to accept recordings

conductors, providing they are major conductors. I would think, per-

MAAZEL: One of the problems is money. The A. F. of M. [American Fed-

2. CBS is now Sony.

ONE OF THE keys to a successful recording career is to find a niche. Colin

To view this image, please refer to the print version

Colin Davis. Autho r's ccllecrion.

BADAL: Maestro, the older generation of conductors, men like Toscanini

ONE OF THE positive aspects to working as a performing musician in com-

To view this im age, p lease refer to the print version

BADAL: And now with Dohnanyil

build a fantastic orchestra, but this will be an international sound. You

think it is at the moment a little bit dangerous to have this presence of

IN HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY Notes ofSeven Decades, Antal Dorati dismisses the

failed to show up in the con ductor's offi ce in Severance Hall at the a p~

To vi ew this image, please refer t o th e print ver sion

Antal Do rari. Photo by Peter Hasnngs

DORATI: Second. I think so. The book is correct; I don't remember.

great danger of records. The danger of the record is that it catches a

BADAL: Do you remember the sessions at all?

IN ONE SENSE, Erich Leinsdorfhad a rather strange career in the recording

BADAL: Do you remember your first recording session?