The Conductor Reflects
By DAVID MERMELSTEIN
from wsj.com
Few conductors can effortlessly invoke the Scriptures, Shakespeare, Goethe and Joseph Campbell in a preperformance lecture. None can do it as unpretentiously as David Robertson. Now in his fifth season as music director of the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra, the American-born Mr. Robertson has raised to new heights the standing of this venerable, though not always lauded, ensemble. The relationship has also brought him belated renown in his homeland, well after he found fame in Europe, most notably with the Ensemble Intercontemporain in Paris.
Wednesday night, Mr. Robertson and his orchestra return to New York's Carnegie Hall, continuing an annual tradition, this time as part of the hall's "Ancient Paths, Modern Voices" festival, which juxtaposes music by Chinese composers with Western scores inspired by the Middle Kingdom. The program pairs recent works by the Chinese-born composers Tan Dun and Bright Sheng with Stravinsky's "Song of the Nightingale" and Bartók's "Miraculous Mandarin" Suite.
Mr. Robertson, age 51, was widely reported to have been a leading candidate for the music directorships of the New York Philharmonic and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra recently, and many have wondered how long he will remain in St. Louis. His annually renewed contract, currently valid through the 2011-12 season, is more typical of music directors nearing the end of their tenures. But he maintains that such details lend no insights into his commitment.
"I've never looked at anything I do as a stepping stone to someplace else," Mr. Robertson said while comfortably settled on a sofa in his bright, homey office at Powell Hall, a converted movie palace that has been the orchestra's home since 1968. "When you commit to a relationship, it's because the relationship makes both of you better."
Though the SLSO is the second-oldest such ensemble in America (the New York Philharmonic is the oldest), it has had more than its share of troubles recently—including a near bankruptcy in 2001, the sudden incapacitation of its previous music director in 2002, a strike by musicians in 2005 and, most recently, a sharp decline in the value of an endowment established to help stabilize the orchestra.
Mr. Robertson, though, decided that other things mattered more, noting that he found the organization unusually committed to civic concerns—a spirit that echoed the priorities of the European groups with which he had forged his reputation. "They give close to 300 community concerts versus 75 in Powell Hall," he said of his players. "And they didn't cut those when they had problems, which said to me this orchestra has its heart in the right place."
The conductor consistently underplays his artistic achievements here, preferring to credit his musicians with their mutual accomplishments. "I do like a challenge," he said. "But I like challenges that I know are attainable. The greatness in this orchestra is right there, so I didn't need to build it. They don't bring their egos onto the stage, just their creativity. And that's a huge, huge plus."
He likens his own duties to that of a "complex mirror" and suggests that musical inspiration comes from three sources: the composer, the musicians and the audience. "My job," he said, "is to reflect and refract these different beams of inspiration to the various parties in the right proportions."
And thanks to a new recording on Nonesuch of music by John Adams—the orchestra's first CD for a major label since the mid-1990s—Mr. Robertson's achievements in St. Louis can now be heard beyond the concert hall. The album features two works, "Guide to Strange Places" and "Doctor Atomic Symphony," the latter a reworking of themes from Mr. Adams's most recent opera. Both were recorded live at Powell Hall last year, giving listeners an especially good sense of how this ensemble sounds under its current music director.
"You're hearing the way this orchestra plays on the concert platform," the conductor said of the recording. "It's just like I imagine the score in my head, with the same passion and excitement, but also with individual personalities expressed. It's like recognizing someone's voice on the telephone. That was how it used to be when the orchestra was making lots of recordings, and it's nice to have that quality again with so many new players."
In April, Mr. Robertson takes the SLSO on a four-city California tour, with stops in Los Angeles and San Francisco. The experience will be a homecoming of sorts for the conductor, who was born and schooled in Santa Monica. "You have something nice, you want to share it," he said, before mentioning St. Louis's most famous symbol. "I can't take the arch on tour, so I'll take the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra, which is equally wonderful."
The pairing prompts another comment, one that cuts to the heart of Midwestern self-deprecation and, perhaps, an inferiority complex. "You know," Mr. Robertson continued, "it takes somebody from outside St. Louis to come and say, 'This arch is one of the most inspiring objects in the world.' Only then do people from here say, 'Yeah, so it is.' And it's the same with the symphony. Only after outsiders praise it do people here go, 'Oh, yeah, so it is.' And that's part of our challenge—to get people here to realize just how amazing this thing is that's right in their midst."
—Mr. Mermelstein writes for the Journal on classical music and film.
