On Conducting (OK, so did I steal that from Berlioz or Wagner?)

My hero--despite his faults...

Originally published July 12, 2011

By this time, every reader of this blog should be aware that I am a conductor.  I have continued to refuse to place a modifying adjective or noun in front of the term (choral, orchestral, wind band) because of my experience with all three sub-media of music.  Over the years I have been frequently faced with two overriding questions:

• Would you rather conduct a band, orchestra or chorus?
• What is your favorite work of music?

The answer to the first question is somewhat simple:  it's either all or none.   I realize that my response is more than enigmatic, but that's often the way conducting is.  The conductor sits alone in his studio studying his score, trying to imagine the sound pallet laid out before him.  (A lot of people are amazed that a conductor can make sense of all of those squiggles just by looking at them.  I am equally in awe of those who create complex mathematical theorae or architectural designs.)  He tries his best to make sense of it all, analyzing every aspect of pitch (and resultant harmonies), rhythm, timbre, dynamics and all of the other aspects which create the whole.  Then he makes his decision, based upon his analysis of all of the evidence (including any "circumstantial" ideas based upon performance practice, composers' idiosyncrasies and even the forces at hand at the time of the original performance).  He puts all of this information together to determine how he will communicate (verbally in rehearsal but silently in performance) these ideas to the musicians before him.

Many people insist that there exist different "styles" of conducting for different kinds of ensembles:  a "choral" style (focused more on the linear), an "orchestral" style (a combination of the linear and strict time beating) and a "band" style ("just the facts, ma'am.")  But I will go to my grave insisting that conducting is conducting.  The only difference might be in the age and ability of the musicians in front of you.  Does that mean that I would conduct the Pumpkin Center Middle School Recorder Ensemble any different than the Vienna Philharmonic?  In a word, no!

Pierre Boulez

We're told that choral conductors shouldn't use a baton because it would destroy the sense of the line.  Honestly, I have seen choral conductors who have used a baton who probably shouldn't have because they were constantly communicating with another part of their body rather than the stick.  We're also told that wind and orchestral conductors use a baton (Leopold Stokowski was an aberration, you know).  But I have seen Pierre Boulez communicate every nuance of a Mahler symphony with no baton and the smallest of gestures.  I have also seen others who should probably go back to using a stick for their baton-less technique seems to me to hinder the ensemble.  But that is to each conductor to decide.  In the end it really depends only on the music, not the ensemble.  It's not about band, choir, or orchestra, it's about Percy Grainger, Moses Hogan and Robert Schumann.

I derive immense pleasure in making music:  with young people (whose enthusiasm can be infectious) and with more "mature" players (whose abilities to perform more demanding literature stretch my abilities as well).  I dream of conducting works such as these:

• Josquin des Prez:  Ave Maria...virgo serena (Renaissance motet--choral)
• Johannes Brahms:  Ein deutsches Requiem (Romantic chorus and orchestra)
• Karel Husa:  Music for Prague, 1968 (Contemporary--wind band)
• and many, many more...

I have conducted works as early as Dietrich Buxtehude (Liebster Herr Jesu) and Giovanni Gabrieli (Hodie Christus Natus Est) to works with the ink almost still wet:  Alex Nohai-Seaman's Requiem and Roy Magnuson's To have seen the worst...but to expect the best...  I have conducted a chamber choir of twelve singers (in a chanson by Lassus and a Vivaldi chorus) as well as a band of 125 and an orchestra of 180.  The "rush" is the same, whether it's a new work that we're "giving birth" to or an old "chestnut" that's being dusted off for the umpteenth time.  Great music is great music; it never loses its luster.

OK, so I've never led a group quite this large...

I must steal a few lines from Kenneth Woods on the art of rehearsing:

"I decided early on, there was only one way to rehearse, regardless of the orchestra.

1. Let the players play.
2. Listen
3. Try to identify aspects of the performance you want to work on.
4. Address the most urgent area of concern.  You might do this with your hands, by rehearsing in detail, by breaking things into smaller groups, by rehearsing slowly, by throwing a tantrum (that one really works well).  This part of the sequence should be infinitely variable, flexible and always fresh, as the others all stay the same.
5. Repeat."

Of course I always conclude every rehearsal with two very important words (and the two words in any foreign language that I take most seriously):  thank you.