Photo credit: r. r. jones
The Twin Passions of Kent Nagano:
Music and Community
By John Newman
The muted chaos of low voices quiets as the houselights come down. A
shimmer of high strings forms in the dimness, a faint luminous veil over
the audience, gathered on a Saturday afternoon last September in Los Angeles's
Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. The passage is charged with promise and risk
- the opening of the overture to Richard Wagner's Lohengrin.
Wagner's operas are the kind of musical and theatrical challenge that
can be a crucible for any company. It is an audacious choice for the Los
Angeles Opera. The company has made only two attempts at Wagner before,
only one of which was well received, although it is widely known that
the opera has ambitious plans to stage the composer's Ring cycle
in 2003, complete with Hollywood special effects supplied by Industrial
Light and Magic.
But the opera has recently undergone a change in leadership with Placido
Domingo assuming the position of artistic director and Kent Nagano the
post of principal conductor. It would be an exaggeration to say the future
of the company rests on this single performance of Lohengrin, but
there is a lot on the line. Now the rehearsals are over, the stage is
set, and the afternoon is in the hands of the performers and Maestro Nagano,
making his debut.
Not that anyone, including Nagano, has anything but confidence in his
baton. Nagano, a 1974 graduate of UCSC (Porter College), is one of the
most sought-after conductors in world. He is the music director of Berlin's
Deutsche Symphonie and previously served in the same capacity for England's
Hallé Orchestra and the Opéra National de Lyon in France.
Nagano's energy, exacting artistry, and fresh ideas have invigorated every
organization with which he's been associated. In fact, Nagano is so in
demand as a conductor he's had to turn down a number of prestigious organizations
seeking his services, including - initially - the Los Angeles
Opera.
When Domingo first approached him about accepting the post of musical
director, Nagano - though honored - felt that he needed to decline.
"In Lyon, I enjoyed an extraordinarily effective partnership with a particularly
great and visionary general director," Nagano says. "The freedom that
we had to shape the identity of the opera house and establish its integrity
was extraordinary and ideal. Because of this we were able to accomplish
much more than was thought possible. It's rare to find that kind of partnership,
and I hesitated to work in a house again unless it was under similar conditions."
What changed Nagano's mind was Domingo's vision of a uniquely West Coast
opera house. "He asked me to help him create an opera house that has such
a unique character that it could only be found on the West Coast of the
United States. That was the deciding factor for me - the challenge
to build an opera house that is not only of a very high standard, but
which is unique to California culture, reflecting both the region's intersection
with the great European tradition and its role as a major carrefour of
the world."
As a native Californian, Nagano is well qualified to bring the perspective
of the Golden State to the international opera community. He was born
in Berkeley in 1951 (while his parents were both graduate students at
UC Berkeley); but before he was a year old, his family relocated to the
small Central Coast town of Morro Bay.
In those days, Morro Bay was a tiny coastal village with a farming and
fishing economy. Though breathtakingly beautiful and idyllic, Nagano says,
Morro Bay offered a music education that was unremarkable except in one
very significant respect - affiliated with the public elementary
school was a kind of music conservatory, established by an emigré
from Soviet Georgia who had been trained in Munich Hochschule and was
committed to the European musical tradition.
"We had to be there before 7 in the morning for private instruction,"
recalls Nagano, who played piano and clarinet. "We took instruction until
school started, and after school we returned to the conservatory for orchestra
and band practice. Between regular classes, music instruction, practice,
and performance, the students who chose to study there very often ended
up with 12-hour days."
The long hours of study produced a remarkable number of professional
musicians, especially from such a small town. In addition to Nagano, for
example, the local conservatory nurtured Jerry Folsom, who was later to
become the principal horn for the Los Angeles Philharmonic. "I remember
sitting a few chairs away from him in orchestra, and our families were
friends," Nagano says. "I'm fairly confident that without those early
years of education in the European discipline and traditions of art, aesthetics,
and music, it would have been nearly impossible to even entertain the
idea of a career in music."
In fact, when he first arrived at UC Santa Cruz in the fall of 1969,
Nagano didn't entertain the idea. The early '70s were a period of social
upheaval all over the U.S. and especially on college campuses. Like a
lot of 17-year-old freshmen, Nagano hadn't decided on a career path, although
he was investigating a number of possibilities including social sciences,
politics, or - reflecting his rural upbringing - veterinary
medicine.
Maestro Nagano rehearses a Schoenberg piano concerto
with
the Berkeley Symphony and pianist Mari Kodama.
"I had a keen interest in sociopolitical sciences, particularly international
relations - an interest that remains today. It was a study that seemed
very relevant at the time, and I had thought it might eventually lead
to a profession of some international nature - perhaps the diplomatic
corps, politics, or the legal field," Nagano says. "Though it did not
occur to me at the time, these studies would prove to be an introduction
to a life's work in international communication - one without words
but through music, aesthetics, art, and theater, rather than politics."
Even though music wasn't his primary motivation for choosing UCSC,
it played an important part in defining his interest in the campus.
"UCSC had an unusually prestigious group of professors who headed the
Music Department, some of whom I had already been exposed to through
their writings. One particularly influential music teacher with whom
I very much wanted to work with was Dr. Grosvenor Cooper. He and Dr.
Edward Houghton [current arts dean at UCSC] had a tremendous effect
upon the development of my interests."
Doing undergraduate study at UCSC had other benefits as well, and
Nagano took full advantage of them. "The standard of the faculty was
extraordinarily high, and, if you had the discipline and the interest,
you could pursue a subject far beyond the time limitations of normal
course work. My memories are full of hours, days, weeks, and months
of extra seminars and private tutoring in Dr. Cooper's home, studying
composition, counterpoint, and analysis - generous, private instruction,
which continued for several years beyond graduation."
Even after he'd graduated from UCSC with dual degrees in sociology
and music, Nagano still didn't think of music as a career. But during
his last two years on campus, he found himself being asked with increasing
frequency to conduct various ensembles or serve as assistant conductor
for classes. "As passionate as my love for music was, conducting wasn't
something I necessarily wished to pursue as a vocation. Rather, it was
something I initially began more because there was a need."
For Nagano, though, his career path remained undefined. At the same
time he enrolled at San Francisco State University for graduate work
in music, he received permission to attend classes at the University
of San Francisco in graduate-level sociology courses. "But one day I
found myself doing more conducting than anything else - and it
was at that point, I realized with some amazement that, at least technically
speaking, I had become a conductor."
And he has been a very busy one ever since. In 1984, Nagano created
a sensation by successfully conducting the Boston Symphony in a performance
of Mahler's Symphony No. 9 with one day's notice, without rehearsal,
and without ever having conducted the work before.
In spite of his international acclaim,
Nagano has remained loyal to his West Coast roots. He is still music director
of the Berkeley Symphony, for example, a position he has held for 23 years.
Photo credit: r. r. jones
Before he accepted the position with the Los Angeles Opera last fall,
Nagano relinquished his positions as music director of the Hallé
Orchestra (after a tenure of nine years) and the Opéra National
de Lyon (under his guidance for almost 10 years). Under his leadership,
both companies rose to prominence and established an international reputation
for innovative productions of exceptional quality.
Nagano is also one of the most prolific conductors ever to step into
a recording studio, and his recordings have received international acclaim.
A multiple Grammy winner with four of his recordings having won the prestigious
award, Nagano has also received international honors from England, Germany,
France, and Belgium. The first recordings he made with the Lyon company,
French versions of Strauss's Salome and Prokofiev's Love for
Three Oranges, were instant sensations. Mark Swed, music critic for
the Los Angeles Times, declared Nagano's recordings of Busoni's Doktor
Faust (with the Lyon company), Messiaen's Saint François
d'Assise (from the Salzburg Music Festival), Peter Eötvös's
opera Three Sisters (which Nagano commissioned and premiered in
Lyon in 1988), and Leonard Bernstein's A White House Cantata (the
concert version of the musical 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, which
Nagano premiered in London in 1999) "the four most necessary operatic
recordings of the century's end."
Nagano's elegant operatic refinements haven't necessarily been restricted
to the orchestra pit, either. In Lyon he brought in celebrated Japanese
architect Arata Isozaki to design sets for the company's first production
of Madam Butterfly and legendary Japanese film director Hiroshi
Teshigahara to direct its first production of Turandot. Los Angeles
can expect a similarly inventive approach.
In addition to his current post at the L.A. Opera, Nagano continues
to serve as music director of Berlin's Deutsche Symphonie and is active
as a guest conductor with many of the world's foremost orchestras and
opera companies. In spite of his international acclaim, he has remained
loyal to his West Coast roots. He is still music director of the Berkeley
Symphony, for example, a position he has held for 23 years.
It was with the Berkeley Symphony, in fact, that Nagano began building
his reputation for serious and ambitious projects, such as a survey of
Messiaen's epic orchestral works in the early 1980s. While preparing a
series of performances of Messiaen's work, Nagano developed a relationship
with the French composer that eventually led to Messiaen's arrival in
Berkeley for a performance of his work The Transfiguration of Our Lord
Jesus Christ, as well as Nagano's participation in the 1983 world
premiere in Paris of Messiaen's opera Saint François d'Assise.
As a part of his vast symphonic repertoire, Nagano makes it a priority
to bring quality productions of modern composers to the public. At the
Salzburg Festival in 2000, he conducted the world premiere of Finnish
composer Kaija Saariaho's opera L'Amour de loin. At the Berlin
Festival that year, he conducted the Deutsche Symphonie in an evening
of works by Stockhausen, along with his Bruckner cycle. At the end of
the year, he premiered a new nativity oratorio for the millennium, El
Niño, by John Adams, in Paris. A longtime friend and advocate
of Adams, Nagano also conducted the premiere of Adams's most controversial
work, The Death of Klinghoffer, in Brussels, and later conducted
an award-winning recording of the work.
"It is a special and tremendous responsibility to create or present
a piece that has never been heard," Nagano says. "The audience relies
upon your judgment and needs to trust you to introduce them to works which
are just as provocative and performed with the same high standard of quality
that we have in traditional literature. If you don't compromise quality
of repertoire or performance, the public will follow you. Through this
commitment, the opera house becomes a vital and integral part of the community."
"These studies would prove to be an introduction
to a life's work in international communication - one without words
but through music, aesthetics, art, and theater, rather than politics."
Photo credit: r. r. jones
Nagano is aware that making the Los Angeles Opera a living part of that
vast multicultural community will be an enormous challenge. "Los Angeles
is assuming an ever-increasing role as one of the most important centers
of the whole world," he notes, "midway between Europe and the Pacific
Rim, and influenced by the traditions of both. Mr. Domingo and I both
feel that this is an opportunity for the Los Angeles Opera to reflect
some of the tremendous diversity of the area on the stage with the performers,
in the repertoire that's chosen, and in the commission of new works by
composers like Luciano Berio and Unsuk Chin. We also want to bring in
important traditional works that haven't been performed in Los Angeles,
such as Lohengrin and The Ring cycle."
That Nagano is taking on such a challenge is no surprise
to anyone familiar with his long-standing commitment to both music and
the social sciences. "Cultural institutions are meant to serve, lead,
and reflect the community," he says. "If and when they don't, they are
at immediate risk of becoming irrelevant. Should they become irrelevant,
they surely will not survive. This is particularly true in opera because
the art form is so expensive."
So far, Nagano's formula for social relevance has proven to be a recipe
for success in Los Angeles. By the time the lights came up on the Saxons
and the Brabants, in the opening scene of Lohengrin in last September's
performance, everyone in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion knew that the hands
of the maestro had fashioned yet another success - and, in the process,
were brightening the future for opera fans on the West Coast.
UCSC Chancellor M.R.C. Greenwood, Placido Domingo,
and Kent Nagano at the reception following the debut of the L.A. Opera's
performance of Wagner's Lohengrin
Photo credit: Kim Canazzi
After 9/11:
Nurturing Hope Through Music
Where were you when you heard the news on September 11? Kent Nagano,
like a lot of other people, was on his way to work, but in his case that
meant on a plane enroute from Germany to Los Angeles to conduct the opening
of Lohengrin at the Los Angeles Opera four days later. He knew
something was wrong even before he got the news.
"We were about an hour and a half from L.A.," he recalls, "somewhere
over Calgary, Canada, and the plane suddenly turned 180 degrees. After
about an hour of flying in the wrong direction, and seeing the Rocky Mountains,
which had just disappeared, reappear again, the captain came on the intercom
and told us we had been ordered to go back to Germany. But he didn't tell
us why."
It wasn't until the plane landed in Iceland to refuel that Nagano and
his fellow passengers learned about the events at the World Trade Center
and the Pentagon. The flight returned to Frankfurt but wasn't allowed
to land there and was diverted to another German city, Leipzig.
Nagano still needed to get to Los Angeles. After a few hours in Leipzig,
he managed to get a flight to Munich. After a day in Munich, the opera
company devised a circuitous route to get him to Los Angeles: From Munich
he flew to Frankfurt, and from Frankfurt to Mexico City; from Mexico City,
he caught a puddle jumper to Guadalajara, and then on to the border town
of Tijuana, where a car was waiting to drive him to L.A. To make the trip
complete, a bomb scare at the border crossing held him up for two more
hours.
Nagano finally made it to Los Angeles, but one indirect consequence
of the terrible events of September 11 was that the orchestra had to forgo
its final rehearsals. In spite of that - and perhaps inspired by
their need to contribute to the community in whatever way they could -
the members of the company gave a tremendous performance. For many in
the audience that afternoon, the message of hope and triumph of the human
spirit in Lohengrin was a soothing balm for the soul.
"It really was a transforming experience," noted Chancellor M.R.C. Greenwood
at a special postperformance reception the UCSC Alumni Association hosted
that day to honor Nagano. "For a few hours, the beauty of the music, the
artistry of the conductor, and the talent of the cast took us to another
place and reminded us of the extraordinary change in our lives that music
and art can make."
In addition to Nagano and the chancellor, speakers at the reception
included artistic director Placido Domingo and UCSC arts dean Edward Houghton,
who was one of Nagano's UCSC teachers and remains a collaborator, having
researched and translated a Renaissance mass for a performance that Nagano
conducted in fall 2000 in Berlin.
No matter the venue, though, Nagano-led performances seem to generate
a rare kind of excitement. Just ask the nearly 100 guests at the UCSC
alumni reception in Los Angeles.
- John Newman and Ann Gibb
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