THE INSTRUMENTALIST
November 1999

My Read Idol Was Bruno Walter
An Interview with Kurt Masur

Since 1991 conductor Kurt Masur has developed a reputation for consistently high-quality performances and artistic spirit with the New York Philharmonic, an ensemble that has had diverse conductors this century, including Mahler, Toscanini, Boulez, and Mehta. In 1974 Masur made his U.S. debut with the Cleveland Orchestra and led the Gewandhaus Orchestra on its first tour of this country. As Gewandhaus As a young conductor were you particularly drawn to Kapellmeister of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, Mahler or some other composer! Masur had to meet the standards met by Mendelssohn, Nikisch, Furtwängler, and Walter, all of whom held that position. On his departure in 1996 the 254-year-old Gewandhaus named Masur its first conductor laureate. In 1998 Masur celebrated 50 years as a professional conductor, and in the year 2000 he will become principal conductor of the London Philharmonic Orchestra. John Knight spoke with Masur before a performance at the Ravinia Festival near Chicago.

Which teachers influenced and inspired you to become a conductor?

Nobody inspired me. Conducting was the only possibility for me. I started as a young pianist and wanted to be an organist. At age 16 I had a disease in my hand that caused a finger to become bent. My doctor said to forget about organ, forget about piano, and this was at a time when I already played piano very well. I had also started to play the violon-cello. I was so involved in music that I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I had no other talents. I grew up in a very small city with no orchestra, nothing; I did not attend my first concert until the age of 16 - and I was so deeply moved by it that I told everybody I might be a conductor. Nobody believed me because I was such a shy young man and had just experienced my first concert. Then I started to discover why people didn't believe that I could do that. They said you are not so flexible, you are too weak and much too soft with everybody around you. Near the end of 1944 at the age of 17 I was a soldier for half a year during the last days of Hitler. Of 130 young guys in my unit there were only 27 survivors. This was a very hard school and a learning experience for me. For a lot of us this was the first time that we felt how brutal life can be. After the end of the war I could not go back to my home so I went to Leipzig and started to study there in 1946.

As a young conductor were you particularly drawn to Mahler or some other composer?

At that time knowledge of Mahler nearly disappeared because Mahler had not been allowed to be played. The same was true with Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky during the last years of the war.

Now you are regarded as a great interpreter of Tchaikovsky.

I grew into that. At first my piano teacher gave me Bach, but later I learned how to feel Brahms, whose compositions were so close for me that I felt they really were in my blood. I grew up a little bit outside the normal way. In a big city you may go to concerts at an early age; I heard my first opera when I was 16, nothing before.

Some say that conducting techniques can be learned, but the art cannot. Is this true?

The techniques of conducting can be learned. For artistry you have to bring imagination to the piece and have the will to bring this knowledge to the orchestra. If the orchestra understands what you are doing, ultimately the audience understands. If you measure a conductor through technique, a lot of conductors can keep an orchestra together, but this doesn't mean it is conducting. Conducting means to inspire an orchestra with such a convincing idea about the piece that all these outstanding musicians believe you. Otherwise the musicians may decide they know more about the music than the conductor. Young conductors sometimes have great difficulty winning the respect of an orchestra. Some musicians might have played with Toscanini, and now they only have Masur. The only way to become a convincing conductor is to find yourself, to believe in yourself, and to be able to transfer this to the orchestra. Developing confidence as a conductor takes experience. An orchestra is not like a piano, which plays what you want. It is a group of people who don't always play what you want.

How does a young conductor develop the imagination to interpret a major work, such as Mahler's First Symphony, which you will perform tonight?

In Mahler's First you have to learn the themes he used and why he used them. This symphony was composed in Leipzig, so I grew up with the music. This is the only symphony in which Mahler went the same way Beethoven did. Beethoven often starts symphonies with a kind of sadness but never ends that way. Mahler's First is his only symphony that really ends triumphantly. All the others end with a question mark, and some ask whether it is better to live or to die. A young conductor has to learn the music well, otherwise he cannot follow his imagination. In the second movement what Mahler wrote is so full of poetry and so full of love. The Landler in his Ninth Symphony is just the opposite, and it conveys unhappiness and tragedy.

What talents are essential in a young conductor, without which he will never make it?

You will never see me ask students to imitate my style because I have a special body language that is different from other conductors. What I ask is that they really learn to use the baton, which some want to do without because it feels more flexible and they have more to say with hand gestures. From your hands and gestures an orchestra has to know what you want, what you feel. If a young conductor is unable to convey the beat on a difficult piece, I tell them to put their hands in their pockets, and just breathe; the orchestra will breathe together. They are always astonished how this works. I would advise young conductors to be careful how they treat an orchestra; beating them is not the right way. You have to work together.

Have you always conducted without a baton?

I conducted with a baton until my car accident in 1972. This was a very hard time; I couldn't move much, so I just used my fingers. I was scheduled to conduct a performance of Bach's B Minor Mass, which I did with only two fingers. Now I actually conduct better without a baton. If the orchestra couldn't play precisely enough, I would use a baton.

How do you teach conductors to avoid becoming so overwhelmed with emotions that their technique suffers?

The first key is to leam to beat precisely. The second is that in front of an orchestra you have to believe fully in what you do. You cannot doubt your ability. If you doubt, you are lost. Developing an imaginative musical vision matters more than beating time in a particular way. Furtwängler used an irregular beat, but he was so full of electricity that the musicians exploded with energy.

Was Furtwängler one of your early conducting heroes?

I would say he was the man I could hear the most often. I grew up in the Nazi times, so he was the conductor then. Karajan was very young and not as important. My real idol was Bruno Walter, who came back to Germany after the war. I heard him conduct the Mozart G Minor Symphony and Beethoven's Eroica on a radio broadcast. It was breathtaking. I remember thinking that the orchestra was so free and full of beauty. He was not a dictator but a musician who led other musicians.

That's interesting because so many young conductors today study the great interpretations, from and Reiner back to Furtwängler.

Remember that tastes were different the no one can imitate Furtwängler. Toscanini was so driven and impatient. Furtwängler did not conduct any bar without meaning. If he made a ritardando, there was a reason for it. You may or may not like his interpretation. Then there is Walter, and you must listen to his Mahler Ninth. This is philosophy in conducting; this is leadership among friends. He made a wonderful recording with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra of the Beethoven Fourth and the Mozart Linz Symphony.

How important is studying the interpretation of other conductors?

I never marked on my score what other conductors did because I very often didn't accept their interpretations. My feelings about the subito pianos in Beethoven are quite different from those of others. Beethoven had such an incredible imagination, but very often we hear this in a very sentinental way, which is why I never imitate other connductors. Find out why composers mark these changes in manuscripts. It is so incredible. Sometimes the change is just the instrument taking over without interrupting the line. You have to understand the reasons for each marking in a score. I feel we have too many conductors who are ing first for success and not for the truth.

Mahler once wrote that what is best in the music is not the notes, yet Toscanini said blessed are the arts which need no interpreters. These are conflicting stateits, but aren't both true?

I think we shouldn't forget that Toscanini grew up in Italy, where orchestras were not disciplined. Conductors had to shout and be horrifying to get the intended result. He was perhaps a bit too demanding and didn't trust the musicians. In a rehearsal with the Vienna Philharmonic, Toscanini became so furious with the orchestra that he threw his score to the ground. The room became silent and everybody was shocked. The first cellist picked up the part and laid it on Toscanini's stand without a word. This was the point where his approach went too far, and it wouldn't work anymore.

Fritz Reiner had a keen sense of rhythm, and this is one of the most important skills for young conductors to learn, but how do you teach rhythmic precision?

I'm simply disturbed if an orchestra plays aneighth instead of a sixteenth because the excitement is much more with a sixteenth. We just played Beethoven's Seventh, and the conductor always has to insist with everything that's in the work, that the musicians don't play straight. I often conduct in four if they play a wrong rhythm. The main rhythm must dance; it's Italian in style. The first time with this orchestra there was much trouble, but that was years ago. Now they know exactly what I want, and the subtle changes affect the character of the music so much. Toscanini's 1927 recording of the Seventh Symphony with the New York Philharmonic is a little bit too fast, but it is breathtaking. The performance is incredible because he insisted on a precise execution of the dotted eighth and sixteenth rhythms, bringing a tremendous rhythmic tension and power to the symphony.

Could you talk about the commitment you have shown to music education?

When I came to New York in 1991, I found the same problems we have in Europe because students do not learn music in elementary school. I spoke to the orchestral committee and asked to give free concerts for young people. The students would come in with a teacher in the morning and instead of having a music lesson, they would hear a brief concert. It was a stunning experience. I know Leonard Bernstein gave similar concerts back when television stations were interested in broadcasting such concerts. We should pay television stations to show performances for students. If young people grow up in New York and only hear rock and roll, they end up thinking all other types of music are boring.

When I grew up, my sisters and I sang folk songs for half an hour before we went to sleep. These songs were the basis of my musical education. The music was simple but wonderful. Rock and roll can be exciting, but it does not warm the heart. We have to give students a place where they can feel at home, where they remember that they still have a soul, a heart. Music can make them feel this.

Now the New York Philharmonic has a department of education and hired Bobby McFerrin to give school concerts for children. I conduct three conservatory orchestras each year and sometimes even elementary school orchestras. One school wanted to play Edvard Grieg's Holberg Suite. Some of the children were so small, but in the end they were shocked how well they could play. Inspiration made them forget how difficult the music was. This is where we should return. The young generation of conductors has to feel that even with the simplest music they can inspire. I would like to do more and find a concert hall that will sell tickets to students at very low prices. At the Royal Albert Hall, young people stand in the aisles, no chairs, nothing; they just listen to everything. I have done the War Requiem there, the Brahms Requiem, and other serious pieces. This is a fascinating audience. Before I start, they are so crazy, so loud that I think we cannot do the War Requiem here. The moment we start, they are silent. This is the way I would like to continue with the orchestra, to help the younger audience discover a musical language they too will love. They shouldn't give up rock and roll; I grew up with jazz and classical music, and my son did the same.

Among all your accomplishments, of which are you most proud?

I watch my pride very carefully, perhaps because of my first piano teacher, who taught me until I was ten. She felt I was proud and asked, "Why are you so proud? Other people play better than you. Why are you proud? You have a talent. This is not something to be proud of. God has given it to you. Use it." When I started at the Gewandhaus in 1973, this was something some people could be proud of, but I was not because I felt the burden and the responsibility. When I started with the New York Philharmonic, I couldn't be proud; I just had to prove that it could work. How this orchestra played Mahler One yesterday was just perfect. As a result of our collaboration I have the feeling that the audience understood. Regardless of whether they cheer at the end, I am happy if I feel they understood. Once in Rio de Janeiro where audiences are always loud after concerts, at the end of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, they were silent for a half a minute. I still was not proud.

As you prepare for a concert of Prokofiev and Mahler, do you think much about these composers?

I am so full of stories about composers. I always remember that Mahler changed radically during his life, from the first symphony to the ninth. I have often heard the ninth played with a sad, depressed ending. However, I feel that Mahler was thinking about life and death. This is not a tragedy because Tchaikovsky's Sixth is truly a tragedy, but Mahler is going to heaven. This has to be brought out of the orchestra so the audience can feel it. You never should think that the audience does not understand; they may not with their brains, but they do with their hearts.

Besides being a distinguished conductor, you became recognised in 1989 as a peacemaker.

I'm always a peacemaker in the sense that making music brings understanding to people. The musical language of Beethoven or Mahler is a language everybody can feel. In China young people feel the same way about the music. A touching moment for me was in Taiwan two years ago when I was asked to talk to students about Beethoven. I discussed the remarkable moments of his life and how his first eight symphonies were composed in 10 years. After the Eighth Symphony he was unable to compose another for 10 years. In the Ninth Symphony he found such a new style. The beginning of the Ninth Symphony is new music. Mahler once said that this is not Beethoven and not classical. He must have had a breakthrough to write the Ninth Symphony and find a way to give mankind hope. This is something incredible. Like the creation of the world, it is full of explosions, lightning, thunder, whatever you want to imagine. I told these young people that Beethoven was deaf at the time he composed the Ninth. This was not a miracle because with his inner ear he could write, but he was not very healthy. Afterwards three very shy girls of 15 or 16 asked if I thought that Beethoven could overcome all these difficult circumstances because he believed in God. Yes. This is the message that I feel exactly. If you are honest as a conductor and as an artist and want to say something special about these pieces, you are understood. You shouldn't think music speaks by itself. That's nonsense.