Intermezzo

Muti talks dirty

What makes Riccardo Muti a great Mozart conductor?

In an interview with French magazine L'Express (long, but well worth a read), he reveals his enormous asset:

"When I conduct Mozart with the Vienna Philharmonic, the orchestra naturally provides the Germanic side of the work. For my part, I bring the Italian influence. The combination of the two, especially for the operas, produces interesting results, with a lot of character.

My knowledge of the Italian of Da Ponte's text is important. His librettos often have a double meaning. The first layer is suitable for polite society. And then there's another one, untranslatable and often....very daring.  Mozart - who spoke excellent Italian - and his music often accompany the second meaning, not the first.

In Cosi fan tutte, when the two women recognise their lovers, they feel guilty. They say "Il mio fallo, tardi vedo." On the surface, this means "Too late I see my error". But the same phrase also means "I see the phallus" (of my lover)! In Italian, fallo has this dual meaning. It's not the same any more, is it?  This kind of double sense is found a lot, often concealing erotic words."

Riccardo Muti reveals where his Birgit Nilsson prize money is going

Well, half of it anyway. 

Speaking to journalist Armando Torno on Italy's Radio 24, he disclosed that he'll be paying over nearly half of both the $1m Birgit Nilsson and the recently-awarded Paolo Borsellino prize money to the Italian taxman.

He took the opportunity to lash out at colleagues who criticise Italian political policies whilst living outside the country as tax exiles.  "That is their choice and everyone is free to do whatever he wants," he said,  "but you cannot keep up residence outside Italy and spit on your country."

Muti wisely mentioned no names, but the Italian papers were quick to point out that he might have been thinking of Luciano Pavarotti, Andrea Bocelli, Ennio Morricone and Claudio Abbado, all of whom are or were Monaco residents at some point.

Muti's $1m secret

Riccardo Muti ruffled a few press feathers earlier today when he refused to tell journalists assembled in Stockholm for the Birgit Nilsson Award how he plans to spend the $1m prize money.  He said he doesn't yet know, and when he does, he won't be telling the world, because it's a private matter.  He dismissed any talk of the money as "vulgar". He also refused to confirm whether he'll use the sum for charitable purposes, as the award's previous recipient Placido Domingo pledged to do.

Muti never actually performed with Nilsson, but he told the press he admired her so much he took a 3 hour train ride to hear her in Fidelio in 1978. Later he heard her as Elektra, Turandot and Isolde and each time was struck by the beauty, power and delicacy of her voice.

**** UPDATE ****

Part of the press conference:

Part of the award ceremony; Sondra Radvanovsky sings:

 

Riccardo Muti's mighty journey

Riccardo Muti yesterday conducted the Luigi Cherubini Youth Orchestra (average age 23) in front of 5,000 spectators at a free concert in the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. They performed extracts from Italian operas including Norma, Rigoletto and Nabucco. Over 200 local children who have benefitted from the work of Italian charities in Nairobi also entertained guests with music and acrobatics.

The concert, organised by Cristina Muti under the auspices of the Ravenna Festival, almost didn't go ahead. The Greek airline from which a plane had been chartered (and paid for) suddenly went bust, leaving the orchestra with no way of reaching Nairobi.  Fortunately the British airline Titan were able to step in at short notice. The flight went ahead 12 hours late and with 110 of the 360-strong party (which included musicians, singers, parents, missionaries and journalists) left behind. With only the most essential personnel permitted aboard, the Italian press were stranded on the tarmac. Which explains the unusual angle of the photos....

  

 

Muti dines

 

How do you follow a historic encore of Va' pensiero? How about a nice fish supper?

Maestro Muti joined a typically Italian cocktail of ambassadors, entertainers (above, octagenarian actress Silvana Pampanini), a celebrity hairstylist and the Chief Rabbi of Rome after performing Nabucco last week. More here, if you've got the stomach.

con la famiglia: 

 

Riccardo Muti is $1m richer

Following in the footsteps of Plácido Domingo, Riccardo Muti is to receive the second-ever Birgit Nilsson prize, a fat $1m.

Maestro Muti has been chosen "for his extraordinary contributions in opera and concert, as well as his enormous influence in the music world both on and off the stage".

Domingo channelled his award towards deserving young singers by using it to fund a Wagner category in his annual Operalia competition.  Arts organisations facing drastic cuts must be hoping multi-millionaire Muti will be equally generous with his windfall.

Muti gets a pacemaker

Doctors in Chicago have found the reason for Riccardo Muti's fall during a 3 February rehearsal in which his jaw was broken.  The Chicago Symphony Orchestra have issued a press release which explains his fainting was caused by an irregular heartbeat. A pacemaker has now been fitted to correct it, but it's unlikely the maestro will be back on the podium any time soon, as (not surprisingly) he's been advised to rest. The long-term prognosis is good: "Patients with pacemakers live full and active lives," a doctor is quoted as saying. 

Earlier press releases can be found here.

Roman ruins

 

Rome's Teatro dell'Opera has cancelled all its scheduled November performances of Adriana Lecouvreur at the last minute in order to save money.  The production will instead be shown next season, at a date to be determined (or so they hope).

Explains why Muti got cold feet, then.

Muti says NO to Opera di Roma

 
And it's not just down to a dicky tummy this time either.

It was announced last December that Riccardo Muti was to become Opera di Roma's new music director, starting with the 2010-11 season.

But now, according to a report in Il Messaggero, the maestro has done an about-face. Apparently, he's unwilling to take over "at a time when the regulatory framework is not the most reassuring", as the paper delicately alludes to Berlusconi's slash'n'burn opera house reform measures. Even more to the point, the cash-strapped Romans wouldn't or couldn't step up to his reported 2 million euro annual salary demand.

But the game may not be over yet. Muti's entirely coincidental return to Milan for medical treatment puts him in the ideal position, geographically at least, for further discussions. That's unless - and we all hope not - there's a more serious medical reason behind his dramatic retreat from Chicago.

(thanks to Maria for the advice)

gone but not missed

 
Could conductors soon be as rare on the orchestra podium as they are on London buses?

When Riccardo Muti dropped out of Saturday's Chicago Symphony Orchestra at the very last minute with a stomach bug, the band simply played on - without him.

Swapping some scheduled items for a Mozart symphony they'd performed earlier in the week, and allowing soloist Anne-Sophie Mutter to flap her arms around a bit during the Beethoven Violin Concerto, the CSO not only coped but "showed their mettle with a refined and worthy performance" according to the Chicago Classical Review.

A new option for any orchestra faced with swingeing cuts?

(thanks to Muti fan Maria for the tip off)

UPDATE - Maria also sent this video, where Muti presciently tells a group of young musicians exactly why a conductor is not necessary:

Muti passes the baton to ...... Cecilia Bartoli

Unconfirmed reports suggest that Riccardo Muti, who steps down as artistic director of Salzburg's Whitsun Festival in 2012, will be succeeded by none other than Cecilia Bartoli.

A weird choice? Not really. La Ceci's track record in truffling out rarities makes her the ideal candidate to continue the classical/baroque festival in Muti's spirit. And on top of her painstaking musicological investigations, she has the knack of presenting these obscure and overlooked gems in a way a modern audience can understand. Without sterile, reverent 'historical practice' dogma. With celebratory wit, panache, and optional thigh boots.

What a career move.

Muti and Lupu celebrate in style

Philharmonia Orchestra/Muti/Lupu - Royal Festival Hall, 2 December 2007

Maestro Riccardo Muti is so popular round these parts that he got as much applause at the start of this concert as most ordinary mortals would at the end. Well, it was a special occasion -- the 35th anniversary of his first performance with the Philharmonia in fact.

Reprised from that first concert, and with a nod to the recent reopening of the Royal Festival Hall, the starter was appropriately enough Beethoven's Consecration of the House Overture. Not quite Beethoven's finest moment, but the Philharmonia gave it a sprightly and attentive run through, Muti extracting a light but disciplined sound.

It's impressive - and mysterious - how Muti continues year after year to resemble an only-recently retired footballer. A great haircut and plenty of vegetables perhaps? Radu Lupu, who joined the orchestra for Schumann's Piano Concerto, is amazingly four years younger than Muti, though his wispy silver hair and lush beard lend him a far more venerable appearance.

I was glad to be seated close to the stage for this evening. Lupu snuggled up to the keyboard and treated the barn-like Royal Festival Hall to a performance that would have been equally at home in the most intimate of salons, orchestra notwithstanding. I don't know how well this travelled to the balcony. But from where I sat, his gentle touch and delicate shading brought a reflective, autumnal quality to the work. The few moments of volume or virtuosity truly dazzled in contrast.

Lupu is not a pianist who bludgeons the listener with his talents -- he simply radiates his serene empathy with the music and allows us to share in the glow. Such a shame that his London appearances these days are so scarce. The toned down orchestra tiptoed around him with a contained grace that revealed all the subtleties of the scoring.

Another repeat from Muti's very first Philharmonia concert was Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. Ravel's orchestration spreads the spotlight around the whole orchestra like a multi-part concerto, and the tremendous discipline of the Philharmonia's playing ensured there were no weak links, with particularly fine playing from the horn and trumpet soloists. It was a well-drilled account, lacking a degree of spontaneity perhaps, but immaculately balanced. Muti whipped up plenty of energy and a few moments of real fire, but ended the evening as he'd begun it - not a bead of sweat, not a hair out of place.

The Royal Festival Hall at chucking out time:

Lupu plays from Beethoven's 32 Variations in C minor in Italy, not long ago I'd guess. Despite the not so great sound and picture quality, this is a marvellous portrait of his technique at work:

Quality don't come cheap - Muti brings Chicagoans to London

Chicago Symphony Orchestra/Muti - Royal Festival Hall, 5 October 2007

That Mitsuko Uchida gets everywhere. After Tuesday's LSO concert, here she was again, tucked away at the back of the stalls, understated in black and teal Issey. I spotted a number of other musicians too, here to catch the first of two nights from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Riccardo Muti -- as usual looking glossily ex-footballer chic, and amazingly youthful for a man pushing 70.

Although the first half of tonight's programme was familiar -- Tchaikovsky's Pathétique Symphony, the second was less so -- Hindemith's Nobilissima Visione Suite and Scriabin's Le poème de l'extase. Perhaps this accounted for the fair number of empty seats. Or perhaps it was the eyewatering ticket prices, nearly all in the £45+ range. Even the handful of cheapest seats (restricted view, no legroom) were £17. The Southbankers make the right noises about inclusion, but for most people I speak to, cost is the #1 reason why they don't attend concerts.

The CSO have been touring this programme around Europe for the last couple of weeks, and it was reflected in the bleached and blowdried sheen of their performance, almost antiseptically flawless in its precision of intonation and ensemble, polished from top to bottom -- no passengers here.

The Tchaikovsky was actually a little too perfect, honed to near-lifelessness. Muti has to be congratulated for avoiding the temptations of sentimentality, but this interpretation veered towards complete inscrutability. Though the tutti pauses did make me draw breath -- many orchestras over-anticipate these and sort of sag into them then lurch out again. The CSO disappear in a puff of smoke, then flick back on -- pure magic.

Even the CSO's polish couldn't buff the ugly layers of Hindemith's Nobilissima Visione, but they triumphed with the orgiastic thrills of Scriabin's Le poème de l'extase. Denying bombast and with, for once, the arid acoustics of the refurbished Royal Festival Hall working in its favour, Muti rolled the densely embroidered score from one climactic crest to another in ecstatic splendour. Whew! I needed a cigarette afterwards (and I don't even smoke), and judging by the applause I wasn't the only one.

Instead, after a cryptic extended introductory speech from the maestro himself, we got a suitable musical substitute - Schubert's Rosamunde overture, delivered with tender poise.

For a (depressingly truthful) perspective on this concert, and on London, from the other side of the platform, check out CSO bassist Michael Hovnanian's fascinating blog -- he should be one of the guys pictured below.