Paavo Järvi: Intuition and Emotion by Wah Keung Chan
/ July 31, 2007
Version française...
Making music is like a conversation
between two human beings, no two performances are the same,” says
Estonian Paavo Järvi, one of the most prominent 40-something conductors
on the scene today. “Conducting is often misunderstood. It’s more
than organizing others and beating time, it’s formulating a strong
view about a piece.” Our conversation on the art of conducting and
the importance intuition and emotion play in making live performances
special had been slated for 45 minutes, but it ended up lasting an hour
longer.
Born in 1962 in Estonia, eldest
son to conductor Neeme Järvi, music was always around Paavo. Neeme
was music director of the orchestra and opera in Estonia and Paavo attended
all the rehearsals. “My father was very interested in variety of repertoire,
and also in the history of conducting, and we got to know different
repertoire and different conductors at an early age,” he relates.
At the Tallinn Conservatory of Music Paavo studied conducting. He also
studied percussion, as that was the quickest way into an orchestra.
After Neeme fell out of favour
with the Soviet authorities for conducting Arvo Pärt’s Credo
in Estonia without permission, the Järvi family immigrated to the US
in January 1980 with only $100 in their pockets. Today, with 357 recordings
under his belt, Neeme Järvi is arguably the most recorded musician
ever.
Paavo soon enrolled in the Curtis
Institute and during a summer course at the Los Angeles Philharmonic
Institute fell under the spell of Leonard Bernstein. “His philosophy
was to become the piece, to get to a much deeper emotional level than
usual,” Järvi explains. As he remembers one particular group session,
he tells us, “Bernstein was conducting Afternoon of the Fawn
with one finger and I’ve never heard a performance like it again.
It was magic. Some people are just given more by God.”
One might think that following
in the footsteps of a famous conductor would make Järvi feel he had
something to prove, but Järvi has only admiration and respect for his
father. “We talk almost every day, and mostly about music. In this
business, there are no short cuts; the only thing that matters is experience.
There is nothing more valuable than having an older conductor who is
willing to share his experience. My father is a goldmine. He has an
amazingly infectious enthusiasm, and he taught us to be curious. He
is my sounding board, someone whose opinion I trust. You can't buy this
for any money.” Neeme’s influence has also resulted in Paavo’s
younger brother Kristjan and sister Maarika being professional musicians,
a conductor and a flautist respectively. This doesn’t mean that Paavo
is a copy. “I see things through my own eyes and temperament. The
goal is to get into the piece on your own terms,” he says.
“On Järvi’s terms” means
trusting his intuition. “A good schooling is very important, but the
danger is that in the process, you are taught to trust your brain more
than your intuition, but it’s the intuition which will bring you to
a more inspired place.” Järvi brings up Marinsky’s recording of
Tchaikovsky’s 6th Symphony, “I never understood why everyone
was copying it. The work is an incredible tormented personal statement
which can only really be effective if you honestly convey the emotions
Tchaikovsky was going through. I treat it as a tone poem.”
For Järvi, learning a work involves
studying, analyzing the keys and the forms and listening to available
recordings. But when that’s done, the most interesting is to see what’s
behind the music. “You start to create images, listen to what the
music is telling you and to your reactions to the music.” Järvi recently
performed Mahler’s Das Knaben Wunderhorn songs with Matthias Goerne
and he points out that Mahler’s use of familiar clichés should not
be taken literally. “He is trying to create a reaction in the listener;
it’s different for different people. Theses impulses open a door to
an inner world; it’s a brilliant way to manipulate the human soul.”
But what goes on in Järvi’s
brain during a performance? “It’s a balance between being the organizer
and becoming the character you’re conducting. The more you are able
to identify with the inner world, the better and more convincing the
emotional part of the performance is going to be.” Järvi brings up
Brahms’s Hungarian Dances. “You need to convince a German
orchestra to be a Gypsy band and it’s easier if you are a Gypsy conductor
in front of them.”
Adding to the three permanent orchestras
he already conducts, just last May, Järvi was named the music director
of the Orchestre de Paris, to replace Christoph Eschenbach starting
in 2010. Although this seems like quite a load, Järvi has carefully
designed his career to avoid the jet-setting guest-conductor lifestyle.
“I consider that a mating dance,” he said. For the best artistic
quality, Järvi prefers to work with the ensembles he knows on a first
name basis.
Järvi’s first permanent posting
was with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra in 2001, where his arrival
was feted with billboards screaming “Bravo Paavo”; his contract
there has been extended to 2012. In the intervening six years, Järvi
has turned the CSO into an American powerhouse, lauded for their sound
and winning a Grammy Award in 2005. “I always talk about sound in
the context of a piece. There should be a different sound for Brahms,
Debussy and Stravinsky. To understand this requires collective intelligence,”
he says. Järvi compares the sound from the great old Russian orchestras
playing Tchaikovsky with the Dresden Staastkapel playing Schumann. “Both
give rich and dark sounds with a certain legato-based sostinuto,
but they are two different universes.”
Already the artist advisor of the
Estonian National Symphony Orchestra, in 2006 he was appointed conductor
of the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra. His other band, Die Deutsche
Kammerphilharmonie, is currently in the midst of recording the Beethoven
Symphonies for RCA, and he will be taking the cycle on tour in North
America this summer with a stop at the Lanaudiere Festival.
When Järvi talks about Beethoven,
we really penetrate his music-making process. “The score (Barenreiter
Edition) is always the starting and ending point. In between, you as
the interpreter have to make choices,” Järvi explains. He believes
the authentic movement of gurus such as Roger Norrington and Nicholas
Harnoncourt towards Beethoven was necessary but too academic. “It’s
unhealthy to play just what’s written, you have to find what’s behind
the piece. Furtwangler’s interpretations are still valid because he
found the emotional, human, deeper content behind the music.” With
the Deutsches Kammerphilarmonie, Järvi has the right-size orchestra
(playing modern instruments with traditional trumpets and timpani) that
understands period practice but is open to experiments. “We never
once discuss style. It’s always about the character, what this line
symbolizes, why we are slowing here when it’s not written,” he clarifies.
Järvi mentioned the Eroica
the most, “every time you play the Eroica, you have to take
a deep breath and you feel you are in the presence of greatness. You
just need to have enough focus, direction and clarity for the first
two chords in Eroica, and everything else will be a journey.
If you are lucky, things that didn’t happen yesterday will happen
today.”
Järvi believes his approach fits
today’s audience. “For classical music and Beethoven to be relevant
today, it needs to speak to people today. If you listen to the
Funeral March in the Eroica, you realize that it must have meant
something else for someone playing it during the bombings in WWII. We
need not be shy to view it as if it had been written today. We need
to respect tradition but not be paralyzed by it.”
Järvi performed the entire Beethoven
Symphony cycle for the first time last year in Japan, and most recently
last month in Strasbourg. “Doing them in chronological order makes
you realize how logical the sequence is. After the 7th, you realize
Beethoven had to make a radical change in the 8th, and the same
after the Eroica.” As the performer, Järvi learned the importance
of channeling his mental energy rather than relying on pure adrenaline.
“After the first three symphonies, I want to have a week off. No one
movement of any symphony can be done in the same character.”
With all Järvi’s successes as
an orchestra conductor, it’s easy to lose sight of his love of opera,
which he conducted earlier in his career. “Opera is a great art of
compromise; all you need is one weak link and the whole thing is not
going to work,” said Järvi referring to today’s conductor’s lack
of input in putting together the team and cast. “I’m not that good
with artistic compromises.” Recently in Chicago, Järvi took advantage
of Tower Records’ going out of business sale to snap up $3000 worth
of operatic DVDs and CDs. “Our favourite is the Abbado, Balsa, La
Scala Barber of Seville, which helps put my 3-year-old daughter
to sleep.”
Järvi also has an 8-month daughter
and finds it difficult to be away from his family. Does he want his
children to grow up as musicians? “We were never pushed into music.
We did it because we wanted to. My father made it so much fun. I definitely
want my children to be involved with music, but not necessarily as professional
musicians. If you can’t go to a concert hall and listen to a Mahler
or Beethoven symphony and get something out of it, then your life is
going to be poorer. If you can’t get involved in that beautiful world,
then something important to you is closed. I can’t imagine my children
living without understanding that world.”
Ever the modest, Järvi excused
himself for having difficulty explaining music by quoting Heinrich Heine,
“music starts where the words end.” n
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