Boldface names

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So now about some names. Names, that is, of people who get talked about as, just possibly, the next New York Philharmonic music director. This is the third post in my series about Alan Gilbert and what kind of figure his successor should be. The first was about Alan, and in general about what the Philharmonic might need. The second was about some dreams (wild ones, if you like), about the next music director as an exciting public figure in New York.

And now the third post. Boldface names. Note that I’m making a choice of my own, or trying to predict who the winner might be. What I’d rather do is discuss plausibility. Here are some people whose names keep coming up. How would I rate their chances?

Marin Alsop

Well, wait a minute…the Philharmonic’s CEO, Matthew VanBiesen, once seemed to endorse her. That was back in 2009, when he was running the Houston Symphony. You can watch on YouTube as he calls Alsop “one of the most important musical figures today.”

I don’t know what the occasion was, or even if VanBiesen thought he was making a public statement. All we’re told is that he was filmed “on a Flip Video Camcorder.” But what he says isn’t crazy. Alsop is the leading female conductor. Dynamic personality. Distinctive programming. Played a big role in turning the Baltimore Symphony around. And in fact makes waves in that city, just as I hope the next Philharmonic music director will do in New York.

But is her conducting good enough? Talk to people behind the scenes, and (rightly or wrongly) you’ll often hear that it isn’t, that she’s vigorous, but sometimes rough, and none too deep. I don’t think there’s any gender prejudice here, since I’ve heard this from both men and women.

MTT

His American Mavericks concerts in San Francisco were distinctive, exactly the kind of sharp and sophisticated programming an orchestra should do, to move its brand into the future (or do I mean into the present?), and attract a new audience. I gave an example of how that worked in my last post,

But sasme question I asked about Alsop: Is he good enough for the New York Philharmonic? I’ve heard there’s some bad blood in his relationship with the musicians, dating way, way back to the days when he was a brash (maybe too brash) young wunderkind. Maybe that’s over now. You’d hope so. Much of the orchestra is too young to have been there when the problem arose (if it ever really did).

But, still…is he good enough? As with Alsop, you’ll hear insiders say that he isn’t. He’s competent, but does he galvanize music, or go deep into it? Rightly or wrongly, many people say no.

David Robertson

Helped turn the St. Louis Symphony around. Distinctive programming. Outgoing personality. Speaks from the podium.

And, when he first guest-conducted the Philharmonic, I’ve heard that the musicians gave him many props, because of how well he taught them Schoenberg’s Erwartung, a difficult piece that they’d never played.

(And such a terrific program it was on: The Tristan prelude, moving toward the edge of tonality, ending — as it does without the Liebestod, inconclusively — and then, entering the empty space with no break, Erwartung, leaving tonality behind, raising the angst in Tristan by a thousand per cent…)

But — rightly or wrongly, once again — he might be seen as not strong enough in standard repertoire, not likely to make the core audience love his Brahms or Tchaikovsky. And that could be seen as a problem.

Dudamel

Oh, what an odd and puzzling problem he poses. His very name breathes stardom. That ought to be a plus. His performances of standard rep can be sensational. I heard him do the Pathétique in DC with the LA Phil, and he left me limp. When he first came up, we’d hear about musicians all but begging their orchestras to hire him as music director.

And now for the downside. First, his limited repertoire. The curtainraiser for the Pathétique was the Bernstein Serenade, and there I thought he was clueless. The shape, rhythm, and flow of the piece seemed to elude him, as if he’d never heard music like that before. Which he truly might not have, since he learned his art in El Sistema, which whatever else, good or bad, you might say about it, certainly never stressed anything but standard masterworks. New music, and even much of the 20th century rep, just wasn’t played.

Which makes it no surprise that, on the grapevine, you hear that he just doesn’t know newer music. So how can he lead the Philharmonic into the future?

And the second problem…wow. This is weird. He doesn’t seem to do media, not the way media has to be done in the 21st century. His people have offered him only or mostly for short interviews. In which he seems only to talk about music, and never about his personal life. As shown by three recent interviews I found online: here, here, and here.

How would that play in New York? It wouldn’t, especially since he’s thought to be such a superstar. He’d be dead. No offhand chats on TV during Fashion Week. No cover stories in New York magazine (one of the sharpest, most contemporary magazines published anywhere). Nothing in the Times or Vogue or Vanity Fair about his apartment, his pets, his taste in wine (or whatever he might like to drink). And no chance, then, to conquer New York. With even a chance — since, given his superstar billing, he’d be expected to be a media beast — that people might ask uneasy questions.

Yannick Nézet-Séguin

More plausible, at least to me. Seems exciting, seems to inhabit the city where he conducts. The questions then might be: Can he up his game to rule in New York? Can he plan programs that make people talk? What do the New York musicians think of him? And, of course, woudl he want to leave Philadelphia?

Esa-Pekka Salonen

Seems very plausible. Musically, personally. High profile. Identified with music from the 20th century and beyond. But we shouldn’t forget the sensation he made with film-enhanced Tristan concert performances in LA and New York. Or that what drew LA to him was a Mahler 2 that he did in London.

He was, as we know, just named composer in residence at the NY Phil. But that shouldn’t be read as a trial balloon. He left LA so he’d have more time to compose. Why would he want another fulltime conducting job?

And, of course: What’s his chemistry with the New York musicians?

Things to remember

Starting with this: That, in all that I’ve said, I could be wrong. Or — imagine me with an impish smile — I could be right, in all the questions I’ve asked, and the Philharmonic could weigh the odds differently, or even make a not-perfect choice.

Which in fact could happen, because…

You can’t always get what you want

I can make a shopping list for, let’s say, a new car. I want this, this, and this, and now, looking at what’s available and what I can afford, a new Corvette is my choice. (If only.)

But it’s not like that when orchestras — big ones, anyway — pick their next music director. They can make shopping lists, but the store (so to speak) might not have what they want.

I learned this lesson years ago, when the Baltimore Symphony chose Yuri Temirkanov to follow David Zinman. Many people — no matter how deep a musician Temirkanov might be — wished that Baltimore had chosen someone who’d have continued Zinman’s programs of new American music.

But to do that might not have been possible. As someone well-placed at the Symphony told me, the first job an orchestra has, when it wants a new music director, is to find someone plausible, on any terms, who can and will do the job. Who’s strong enough, musically and administratively. Who’s available. And, no small thing, who wants the job. And whom the musicians will want.

Add up the names on that list, and some weeks you’ll thank your stars if there’s even just one. Which makes your broader desires hard to fulfill.

Standard rep

Maybe this is now changing, or will be. But in my years in this business, strength in the standard rep (as I’ve taken for granted, in my comments on boldface names) has been a must. Maybe, in the future, you’ll have a new audience, with new, evolved taste. But for now, you have your current one, and, even if it’s shrinking, it still buys the tickets, still donates money.

And you don’t want to turn off big-name soloists, most of whom come to you playing the big-name concertos. And if they don’t care for your music director…

Secrecy

This should be obvious. Top orchestras won’t — or at the very least shouldn’t — talk to the public about who their choices might be. Because there are two things they don’t want. First, First, to make their first choice known, and to be turned down. The way Riccardo Muti turned down the NY Phil in a public statement, after it was known that he was top choice. A grave embarrassment.

And , second, you don’t want the person you do end up with to know (not just suspect) that she or he wasn’t your first choice. And, worse, to know that the public knows.

All of which, by the way, makes it hard to believe something said in the New York Times, keyed to reporting from 2004, that David Robertson had once been strongly considered for the Philharmonic job. 2004 was the year that David and Alan Gilbert were jointly appointed special young guest conductors, with the Philharmonic’s then-CEO expressing the thought, almost teasingly, that maybe, in their new roles, the two men would compete (with Riccardo Muti, sigh) for the big job.

But that was a crazy thing to say. Secrecy! In this high-stakes game, orchestras shouldn’t be showing their cards. Or, as seemed to happen here, to express any public interest in anyone. No wonder both Gilbert and Robertson backed quickly away from the CEO’s statement: “It’s the farthest thing from my mind.” “That’s not the reason I’m doing these weeks.” Neither, it’s fair to guess, wanted public embarrassment.

Most likely (from what I heard), the dual appointment was a gesture made toward the New York Times, whose chief classical critic had said he wanted a young American, new music-loving music director. And as I said in my first post, that could be why Alan eventually did get the job.

But his choice, I believe, was a separate decision, not following straight from the joint hire. Which seems to me to read like a stunt, not to be taken seriously — because to annoucne a public horse race was a crazy thing to do — as a step toward finding a music director.

Though maybe I’m wrong. Which might make a very fine segue into my final point:

Don’t always trust what you read

Whether it’s by me, or by anyone else. Writers on classical music may not know what’s really going on.

A cautionary tale: Some years ago, Robert Spano, now music director in Atlanta, was mentioned when critics wrote about who might fill some big-time music directorships. In his years with the Brooklyn Philharmonic, he’d shown some youthful, American energy. So often was he mentioned that, when he’s talked about now, you’ll hear that he’d been considered for top-ranking music directorships, almost as if this were part of his resumé.

At the time when critics would mention him, I was curious to know where he stood. So I made an inquiry, privately asking someone high-ranking in orchestral circles where Spano stood. The answer was firm. Spano wasn’t a candidate for any big job, because he wasn’t thought to be good enough.

So there’s a warning, which you’re free to extend to anything I write: Don’t always trust what you read.

Added later: For a calm and balanced look at why Alan Gilbert might not have been right for the Philharmonic job, see Terry Teachout’s terrific piece in Commentary. Terry’s ears and solid thinking got him — before anything was announced — more or less where many insiders also got to. Such a solid piece of criticism and analysis. Bravo, Terry.