Naples Daily News
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http://www.naplesnews.com/npdn/neapolitan/article/0,2071,NPDN_14939_2651369,00.html

   Royal Phil's concert marked by conductor's solo encore
   By PEG GOLDBERG LONGSTRETH, Special to the Daily News February 13, 2004

   Wednesday evening's standing-room-only concert at the Philharmonic
   Center for the Arts, turned out to be notable, not for the
   concert, featuring the world renowned Royal Philharmonic Orchestra,
   but for the encore performance of its highly touted young
   conductor.

   Daniele Gatti, the Royal Philharmonic's music director since
   1996 and also the music director at the Teatro Communale in
   Bologna, returned to the stage following a standing ovation at
   the conclusion of Beethoven's "Eroica" Symphony to - I thought
   mistakenly - acknowledge the accolades of the audience.

   Instead, this incredibly rude, ill-mannered, churlish, boorish
   young conductor, tripped over his enormous ego and, in the
   process, managed to insult and alienate an entire, enthusiastic,
   respectful audience who had paid nearly $100 a ticket for the
   evening.

   He returned to lecture the audience.

   In so doing he confirmed my growing suspicions of his conduct
   during the evening: Maestro Gatti is a graduate of the Bobby
   Knight School of Social Diplomacy.

   That's right.  Gatti, without benefit of a microphone and with
   a heavy Italian accent, let everyone in the hall know ...  know
   what, exactly?  I am going to paraphrase his comments, but I
   believe he essentially said the following, since others, including
   Myra Daniels, the president and CEO of the Philharmonic Center
   for the Arts, with whom I spoke Thursday morning, have confirmed
   my interpretation of Gatti's comments:

   The Royal Philharmonic is an important, world-class orchestra.
   They have performed all over the world.  For the past two weeks
   they have played nonstop performances.  They have never played
   under such trying circumstances.

   Gatti went on:

   The Phil's acoustics suck.  The stage sucks.  The placement of
   his orchestra on stage sucked.

   While trying to make out his comments, I glanced up at Daniels'
   box, fully expecting to see her stand and fall over the balcony
   in shock.  I am certain any number of pacemakers in the decidedly
   older audience went into overdrive, as person after person reacted
   with shock.

   A number of persons in the audience made the mistake of tittering,
   not certain what he was saying or why smoke was coming from his
   ears.  He stopped the laughter dead in its tracks, said, "This
   is no joke.  I am very serious," and a hush came over the audience.

   His tirade over, he exited, as did, finally, the members of the
   Royal Philharmonic Orchestra who, prior to last evening, had
   performed here on three other occasions since Gatti's appointment
   in 1996.

   People who had heard right were shocked and outraged.  A number
   of them sought out the ushers to voice their outrage over Gatti's
   conduct.  People stopped me and were calling Thursday morning
   to ask if I had ever seen anything like that.

   One woman called Daniels to comment: "We honored him with applause
   and a standing ovation, and he told us we were idiots."

   Many asked, rightly so, if there were a problem with the acoustics
   or the stage, what the audience was supposed to do about it?

   Indeed.

   Reflecting back, I should have known it was going to be a strange
   evening.  There were hints - a portent, as it turns out, of
   things to come:

   Gatti failed to utter a simple sentence at the beginning of the
   concert, informing concertgoers the order of presentation was
   being switched, which left more than half the audience sitting
   through the entire first number (which was supposed to be Saint
   Saen's Cello Concerto) wondering where the cellist was.

   In fact, the first hint Gatti was not a happy camper occurred
   when, at the conclusion of the first movement of the first number,
   many people in the audience committed a mortal sin: They applauded.

   Let's face it.  Applause between movements is considered a sign
   of ignorance and poor breeding by many music snobs.  There is
   nothing unique about music audiences in Naples applauding, as
   opposed to the rest of the world.  They do it everywhere.  Even
   in New York.

   OK, so it would be preferable if they hired someone to come out
   with an applause card, to eliminate any uncertainty about when
   it is all right to express enthusiasm at a classical concert.

   But in the greater scheme of things, given so little to applaud
   in today's world, is this really worth getting your dander up?
   Wouldn't you rather they applaud at an inopportune moment rather
   than boo?

   But that wasn't bad enough in Gatti's eyes: At the same time,
   at the conclusion of that movement, in accordance with the Phil's
   policy, an usher quietly seated six adults on the far right side
   of the auditorium, They created no disturbance whatsoever, nor
   is there anything unusual about such a seating policy.

   Gatti chose that precise moment to turn toward them, fix them
   with his best Bobby Knight stare - you know the look: the one
   where the general faces you with his best stare, utters not a
   single word and, in the process, strikes terror in your heart -
   and waited until they had been seated to proceed with the second
   movement.

   By now, everyone in the hall had turned to see what the "problem"
   was, when their seating otherwise would not have been noticed
   by 95 percent of the auditorium.

   Believe me, no one applauded during the remainder of movements
   in the evening's three numbers.  Gatti, without ever saying a
   word or turning to acknowledge the existence of the audience,
   anticipated the possible applause and shushed them with a hand
   movement behind his back.

   In the midst of all these by now cumulative little signs the
   maestro was having a bad hair day of monumental proportions, he
   briefly stopped the performance of Beethoven's "Eroica," turned
   toward the concertmistress, glowered, and the entire violin
   section got up and physically closed ranks, moving so close to
   the edge of the stage, the hapless fifth violinist had to grab
   his chair as it toppled off the stage.

   That said, I am going to sum up the concert by saying it was
   very good.  I am going to tell you the audience was attentive,
   polite and enthusiastic following the conclusion of each number.
   I am going to tell you Silvia Chiesa, a passionate young cellist
   with whom I frankly was unfamiliar, gave a solid performance
   during the Saint-Saens piece, and I hope we have the opportunity
   to hear her perform again under less stressful circumstances.

   Then I am going to tell you, since so many people have called
   to ask if I have ever seen anything like what happened last
   evening, that I have not.

   I have seen many gaffes and disasters on stage or during
   performances in my lifetime:

   I have seen children wet themselves during their student recital;
   a graduate student in voice (whom I was accompanying) suddenly
   vomit all over everything during her doctoral recital; an organ
   short out and go totally silent during the procession of an
   ultra-socialite's wedding.  I have seen parts break or fall off
   instruments.  Reeds split.  Strings break.  Professionals forget
   their parts and flee the stage.  I have seen musicians topple
   off stage; chairs break; batons suddenly take leave and fly
   through the air.

   But until Wednesday, I have never seen a highly touted,
   internationally much heralded conductor blow his stack, come
   back on stage following a standing ovation and berate the audience.
   Gatti could not be reached for comment on Thursday.In the midst
   of all this post-concert shock and outrage, I had a sudden
   epiphany: In the five-plus years since my husband and I relocated
   to Naples, we always continued to think of Indiana and its musical
   venues as home.

   Wednesday night I became a full-fledged Neapolitan, proud of the
   wonderful Philharmonic Center for the Arts, proud of the tremendous
   growth its orchestra has exhibited since we moved here.  Thrilled
   with many of its world-class guest performers, of all the musical
   riches this community offers.  And in the process, I was ready
   to do battle with this pretentious, angry little twit who ruined
   a wonderful evening of music for many of the concertgoers.

   He was unhappy with the setting? It was beneath him?

   I don't think he will have to fret about those problems anymore.
   I doubt there is a snowball's chance in Hell he will ever be
   invited back.  And you think classical music is dull!

   Peg Longstreth was trained as a classical musician and owns
   Longstreth-Goldberg ART gallery in Naples.  You may e mail her
   at [log in to unmask]

   Copyright 2004, Naples Daily News. All Rights Reserved.

Nicholas J. Yasillo
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