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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