In the "Daily Telegraph" (London):
Barenboim v Rattle: battle for Berlin. The most coveted post in
music is up for grabs, as recording giants the Berlin Philharmonic
elect a new leader. Will it be old-guard favourite Daniel Barenboim,
or can moderniser Simon Rattle's low-key tactics win him crucial
votes? (Daily Telegraph London; 06/09/99)
THERE is more than one election taking place in Europe this week.
While half the continent sends 626 MEPs to Strasbourg, never to be
heard of again, a cloistered elite in the German capital are choosing
the next master of the musical universe, or so they think.
Members of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, some 120 of the world's
best musicians, are filing ballot papers for a count this weekend
that should produce a successor to the departing music director,
Claudio Abbado. The contest is too close to call. It has narrowed
down to a stand-off between Daniel Barenboim and Sir Simon Rattle,
and the orchestra is split along lines that would keep a team of
psephologists gainfully employed until past the Millennium.
Broadly speaking, Barenboim, 56, is favoured by older players who
want to turn back the repertory clock to the four Bs - Beethoven,
Brahms, Bruckner, big money - of the Herbert von Karajan epoch.
Rattle, 44, is backed by the younger bloods, who knew not Karajan
and would rather look ahead than back to faded glories.
There are fissures within both camps and the outcome will not be
determined wholly on musical aesthetics. Berlin is flexing its pecs
as Europe's power hub, and political paymasters are pressuring the
musicians to make a choice that will suit the city's geopolitical
aims. Since reunification, Berlin has supported seven orchestras
and three opera houses; the Philharmonic is no longer paramount or
sacrosanct. It needs a chief who will, unlike the retiring Abbado,
assert its supremacy and restore its swagger. But, in the final run-
in, some have started wondering whether any maestro can materially
affect orchestral fortunes - or whether they might not be better off
without a conductor in command.
Such heresies are not to be uttered within earshot of the Barenboim
bunker. The Argentine-born Israeli regards himself as a spiritual
heir to Wilhelm Furtwangler, the inspirational interpreter who led
the Philharmonic from 1922 to his death in 1954, with a seven-year
break for de-Nazification. Barenboim obtained Furtwangler's blessing
as a boy-pianist and made his Berlin debut in short pants.
For the past seven years he has been biding his time across the city
as head of the emblematically renamed German National Opera on Unter
den Linden. In addition to refortifying Wagner - a Walkure on Sunday
drew comparisons with Karajan at his most imposing - Barenboim has
rebuilt the second-rate opera orchestra, known as the Berlin
Staatskapelle, into an international concert ensemble and an obvious
threat to the Philharmonic. Throughout Abbbado's decade he has
appeared as a seasonal guest conductor, acquiring a solid following
within the orchestra and its audience.
"Daniel has a lifelong attachment to the Philharmonic," argues one
of his supporters. "With this orchestra, he says, all a conductor
has to do is pick up the impulse that comes from the players." At
his latest concerts, a fortnight ago, Barenboim led Cecilia Bartoli
in a set of Mozart arias and, directing from the keyboard, gave the
world premiere of a piano concerto by Wolfgang Rihm.
His brilliance is uncontested, though he sometimes treats new music
with clinical reserve and the thrust of his ambition can alienate
less worldly allies. Barenboim, in polyglot interviews and private
persuasion, has made it clear that he is the best man for the post,
adept in the alleyways of Berlin politics and assured of the acclaim
of the music industry, with its lucrative record and touring contracts.
Rattle, on the other hand, has avoided any move that might be mistaken
for a job application. He has refused local interviews, avoided
player conclaves and generally held himself above the electoral rough
and tumble. Any campaigning on Rattle's behalf has been conducted
by a cadre of younger players, mostly foreigners, who are thrilled
by the Englishman's reasoned iconoclasms and his unforced commitment
to present-day culture.
Rattle, who has conducted seasonally in Berlin since a storming Mahler
Sixth in 1987, was on the podium last weekend with a well- chosen,
if typically unconventional, programme of two Haydn symphonies, a
set of Mozart arias with Thomas Quasthoff, and the Berlin premiere
of Carlo, a semi-electronic piece by Brett Dean, a likeable Australian
who plays viola in the orchestra.
Rattle backers felt this concert was "the most exciting we have given
all season". They see him as a revitalising force, a personality
who can magnetise a city, as he did in Birmingham, rather than merely
rehearse an orchestra.
He is in demand the world over and has a warm relationship with the
Vienna Philharmonic, which Berliners historically regard as a key
competitor. To steal Rattle from Vienna would be a nice coup. Rattle
is also well established at Salzburg, where the Berliners have been
losing their summer perks to Vienna and cheaper bands.
Antagonists maintain that Rattle, like Abbado, is "a foreigner who
has no sympathy for our traditions". His German is several umlauts
short of pluperfect and his popular appeal is shallow. "Who says
this orchestra must play modern music?" they demand. "We should do
what we do best, and not be like the rest. Only Barenboim can
guarantee continuity. . ."
On political points, Barenboim the Israeli would appease the past,
Rattle the Englishman would herald a new century of German-led
multinationalism.
These, then, are the issues over which the most coveted of musical
positions is being contested. The decision to hold a paper ballot
instead of a show of hands makes this election harder to call than
before, but my soundings suggest that Barenboim entered the final
stretch slightly in the lead, with Rattle gaining on the strength of
this week's concerts, culminating in a Mahler Seventh last night.
Some independent-minded electors will enter other names on their
ballot slips - names such as Lorin Maazel (who missed out painfully
last time), Christian Thielemann and Mariss Jansons - but these long
shots will only come into the reckoning if neither Rattle nor Barenboim
secures 51 per cent of the vote. In that eventuality, the orchestra
will meet behind closed doors a fortnight hence to sort out the
succession. The man who would unite both factions is Jansons, but
he suffers from a severe heart condition and only a unanimous
acclamation would induce him to take the risk.
Yet even as these options are being assessed, some are starting to
ask whether the job is worth having, or giving. Abbado set a terrible
precedent last year, surrendering a high place from which all of his
predecessors had been removed in a coffin. He was tired, he said,
of a routine of flawless concerts and pointless tours.
IF ABBADO failed to set the world alight, the fault was partly beyond
his control. The recording boom that Karajan created ended in a
crash. Karajan made three or four discs each month; neither Abbado
nor his likely heirs get to make that many in a year. The prestige
of the Berlin Philharmonic was founded on recordings, and the market
has vanished. To non-Berliners, the identity of the next conductor
has become almost immaterial.
Some players, too, are questioning whether they need a figurehead
who adds no value. The Vienna Philharmonic has survived since the
war without a chief conductor, admired the world over for the serenity
of its sound.
The Berlin players, too, would like to be loved for themselves rather
than for a frontman. Politicians want to see a new leader, but the
next chief conductor, whoever he may be, will need to make a real
difference to the sound and status of this fine orchestra if he is
to justify a dwindling role.
Tony Duggan
Staffordshire,
United Kingdom.
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