A visionary work ahead of its time, only relying on pure sound layers, perception of absolute time, and devoid of melody or harmony. Ligeti? No, Rued Langgaard, in 1916 (this piece was finished in 1918). Ligeti, after reading Langgaard’s score, defined himself as “Langgaard’s epigone.” Studying this score is pure sensual pleasure, but also an intellectual one, thinking about how this composer, for this very piece, rebuked all rules of the time and devoted himself – and his piece – to pure sound immersion. Astonishing…. and fascinating!

I will conduct this singular work in October in Copenhagen with my beloved Danish National Symphony Orchestra at the Koncerthuset.

If you want a book from which you can learn art history as well as the reality of the times in which it happened, this book is for you. A rich, amusing, astonishing book with a lot of stories about the most important, and also the least important, artists of their times, about their vices, their idiosyncrasies, and their addictions. Michelangelo, Raffaello, Leonardo, Caravaggio, Guido Reni, Rubens, Rembrandt, Frans Hals, Dürer —under a different light, the light of their demons and weaknesses – or strengths. It also illuminates how artists have been perceived by society in various times and environments, how corporations and later academies developed, how artists’ singularities persisted, and why. Written by two eminent art historians, this book is never academic, nor overly technical. A pleasure to read – and to learn from.

Some musicians of the RAI Orchestra in Turin organized a small outdoor concert in front of the Auditorium Toscanini, right in the car park space. They wanted to attract attention to the Pride Happening on June 7.

This happened just before a concert we played together at the Auditorium (Schubert Unfinished Symphony and Bruckner 7).

A  beautiful idea to express their support for LGBT rights. I observed them from my dressing room.

I read Philip K. Dick’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” for the first time in its entirety. I remember starting it many years ago but putting it aside. Passionate about science fiction as a boy, I preferred the clarity of Isaac Asimov, the scientific passion of Robert Heinlein, and the pure adventure of Jack Vance. Philip K. Dick is now considered one of the most visionary authors of science fiction, tackling themes—such as artificial intelligence and genetic research—that remain relevant today. I don’t particularly like Dick’s lighthearted style, but the theme is certainly pressing. This book was adapted into the cinematic masterpiece “Blade Runner” by Ridley Scott, which surpasses the novel in atmosphere, focus, and suspense, featuring a sensational soundtrack by Vangelis and starring Harrison Ford alongside the enchanting Sean Young. Also worth mentioning is its sequel, “Blade Runner 2049,” which, though not as groundbreaking as the original, expands and deepens its themes without losing its essence, utilizing excellent actors like Ryan Gosling, Harrison Ford, returning as the original Deckard, and Jared Leto.

Since I attended— it must have been 1975 or 1976—my first concert featuring a Mahler symphony (it was the fifth, in Genoa, conducted by Yuri Ahronovitch, a concert I shared with my then-sweetheart, Cinzia, who was one year younger than I am), I consider myself a Mahler addict.My love for this composer has never wavered, and his symphonies have never disappointed me; whether I’m listening to them, studying them, or conducting them (studying his scores repeatedly is one of the most rewarding aspects of my life as a conductor).

These months of April and May are filled with Mahler experiences. In Tokyo, with my NHK orchestra, we are preparing and performing his 3rd and 4th symphonies, which will be presented in a couple of weeks during a European tour, including the Mahler Festival in Amsterdam.

My score of Mahler’s Third Symphony

We are honored to be the first Asian orchestra ever invited to perform there. We are in excellent company: the other orchestras at this festival include the Berliner Philharmoniker, Concertgebouw Orkest, Chicago Symphony, and Budapest Festival Orchestra.

https://mahlerfestival.concertgebouw.nl/en/symphony-no-3-1

https://mahlerfestival.concertgebouw.nl/en/symphony-no-4-and-das-lied-von-der-erde

Willem Mengelberg’s score of Mahler’s 4th Symphony, with his and Mahler’s annotations

I will then conduct Mahler’s Second Symphony with the Dallas Symphony Orchestra to close the 2024/25 season, marking a significant milestone in my mission to present all of Mahler’s symphonies during my tenure.

Choosing a favorite among Mahler’s symphonies is challenging, if not impossible. However, the Second Symphony holds a special place in my heart. Having conducted it many times, I appreciate both its grandeur and intimacy (the grandeur naturally leads to the Third Symphony, while the intimacy connects to the Fourth), as well as the unmistakable “Austrian-Bohemian” touch in the Ländler, undoubtedly one of his masterpieces.

Mahler’s manuscript of the Second Symphony

For me, Mahler has always represented a journey of soul exploration. His music delves so profoundly into his (and our) souls that studying (and conducting) it feels akin to an intense therapy session: one emerges cleansed and purified.

A wise man, his wise advice.

My friend and Perfumery-Guru Ron Winnegrad’s blog is a source of wisdom, goodness, and common sense. A Perfume Whisperer‘s last entry is striking in simplicity.

There are two sets of three that are simple directives for good behavior for youngsters, also absolutely for adults. The first set deals with integrity: 1. Never Lie. 2. Never Cheat. 3. Never Steal. The second set of three is how to behave when things don’t work out right: 1. Do not whine. 2. Do not complain. 3. Do not make excuses.

To expand on one’s character and integrity, the youngster and definitely the adults should follow these six suggestions: 1. Be true to yourself. 2. Help others always. 3. Make each day your masterpiece. 4. Drain knowledge from good books. 5. Make friendship a fine art. 6. Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings.

Never worry about results, that worry hurts the future. Being concerned about the future you figure out the future solutions. Concern leads to results. Worry leads to lost sleep. If you can’t control your emotions, your emotions will control you. When emotions run the show, you will lose.

Never try to be better than someone else, never cease trying to be the best you can be. That you have control over, not the other. Judge the quality of your success on your effort not on how you compared to others.

Always be open to learn from others. I even learn from my 7 year old neighbor. She says she would like to look like she is a teenager. Yet she has the intelligence and maturity of one in their teens. What a blessing she is to have a conversation with. She educates me.

TAKE CARE, STAY WELL, STAY HEALTHY. HAVE FAITH. THANK YOU.

As an agnostic, I asked Ron for permission to reformulate point 6:

hope always to be able to discern between right and wrong—and always with a bit of doubt, if you think to have been right.

Thank you, Ron!

It has been a while since I conducted one of my favorite Richard Strauss works, “Ein Heldenleben” (A hero’s life). I will perform it with the Danish National Symphony Orchestra in Copenhagen next week. Details here.

This work is one of my best memories. I first heard it through the glorious, historical, and reference recording by Rudolf Kempe with the Staatskapelle Dresden. Then, I conducted it with many different orchestras and had the privilege of recording it, as Rudolf Kempe’s successor in Dresden, with the great Staatskapelle some years ago. In this recording, I use the ending (which describes the hero’s death) allegedly preferred by Richard Strauss: a soft, comforting, slow ending with a tender violin solo. The usual, most commonly performed ending is the so-called “Zarathustra-Ending” with a full orchestra, giving the work a supplement of empty heroism (spectacular, though). Strauss himself didn’t like this “Zarathustra-Ending”; he defined it as “Staatsbegräbnis” (a State Funeral).

Diese Bezeichnung ist nicht von mir, sondern von Thomas Mann, der Adalbert Stifter als einen der größten Literatur-Genies nannte. Völlig aus der Mode gekommen, bin ich zu Adalbert Stifter durch Thomas Bernhards „Alte Meister“, in dem der Protagonist, der Musikkritiker Reger, vernichtende Worte über Stifter liefert, vor allem wegen seiner Biederkeit und seinem Dazugehören zur vermeintlichen Staatskunst. Das Urteil der fiktiven Figur des Regers hat seine Begründung, denn Adalbert Stifter’s Prosa ist langsam, ist langatmig, ist alles andere als aufregend. Dennoch wissen wir, dass selbst Thomas Bernhard Stifter schätzte – neben anderen Literaturgrössen wie Karl Kraus, Peter Handke und Ilse Aichinger. Aber vielleicht eben wegen der Detailverliebtheit, der absichtlichen Langsamkeit der Erzählung, der subtilen Thematik, sollte dieser fast vergessene Schriftsteller wieder entdeckt werden. Seine Erzählung „Bergkristall“ ist jedenfalls ein Wunder an Sprachgenauigkeit und an langsame, dennoch grossartige, Spannung.

The Enigma Adalbert Stifter

This appellation is not mine but belongs to Thomas Mann, who referred to Adalbert Stifter as one of the greatest literary geniuses. Entirely out of fashion, I discovered Adalbert Stifter through Thomas Bernhard’s “Old Masters,” in which the protagonist, music critic Reger, expresses devastating opinions about Stifter, primarily due to his respectability and supposed ties to statecraft. Reger’s judgment is justified, as Adalbert Stifter’s prose is slow, long-winded, and anything but exciting. Nevertheless, we know that even Thomas Bernhard appreciated Stifter, alongside other literary luminaries like Karl Kraus, Peter Handke, and Ilse Aichinger. It is precisely because of the attention to detail, the intentional slowness of the narrative, and the subtlety of the subject matter that this nearly forgotten writer deserves to be rediscovered. His story “Rock Crystal” is, in any case, a miracle of linguistic precision and slow-building tension.

Much has been written about Rainer Maria Rilke’s Cornet, one of the most influential literary works of the twentieth century. Defined as “prose poetry,” the short text still strikes both for its content, oscillating between the glorification of war and its absurdity, and for its form, which uses a dry, spare language, at times sweet and seductive, creating a contrast that reflects the protagonist’s inner life. The story of the young soldier Christoph Rilke, appointed “Cornet” on the field, and therefore standard-bearer, during the war of the European forces against the Turks in 1663, has been set to music numerous times: by Paul von Klenau to Viktor Ullmann to Kurt Weill to Siegfried Matthus. Perhaps the musical version closest to Rilke in terms of rhythm, color, and intensity is that of Frank Martin for female voice and chamber orchestra.

Über Rainer Maria Rilkes „Cornet“, eines der einflussreichsten literarischen Werke des 20. Jahrhunderts, wurde viel geschrieben. Der kurze Text wird als „Poesie in Prosa“ beschrieben, und beeindruckt sowohl durch seinen Inhalt, der zwischen Kriegsverherrlichung und dessen Absurdität schwankt, als auch durch seine Form, die sich einer trockenen, kargen, manchmal süßen und verführerischen Sprache bedient und so einen Kontrast schafft, der das Innenleben des Protagonisten widerspiegelt. Die Geschichte des jungen Soldaten Christoph Rilke, der im Krieg der europäischen Streitkräfte gegen die Türken 1663 auf dem Feld zum „Cornet“ und damit zum Bannerträger ernannt wird, wurde mehrere Male vertont: von Paul von Klenau über Viktor Ullmann und Kurt Weill bis hin zu Siegfried Matthus. Die Version für Frauenstimme und Kammerorchester von Frank Martin ist in Rhythmus, Farbe und Intensität vielleicht diejenige die Rilke am nächsten kommt.

An important “caveat”: this book is not optimistic, uplifting, or giving hope. It is a brutal analysis of the result of illiteracy and of lack of education. Chris Hedges shows how, little by little, people in the US are becoming increasingly dependent on the visuality and superficiality of evil and wrong examples. School, TV, internet are responsible. Of course, this is extendable to the world population (especially in the Western world, but Asian countries are also touched by this dangerous trend), and it is by no means only an American phenomenon. The language of this book is often crude and even graphic – maybe even too much, and the lack of hope (its mistake is probably to generalize problems that don’t affect everybody) is sometimes upsetting. However, the issues it shows are real and need to be addressed.