INTERVIEW | Philippe Herreweghe | "with art, you can focus on profound and essential questions"

In conversation with Philippe Herreweghe

Interviewed on 6 February 2019.

Philippe Herreweghe, © Michiel Hendryckx

In a world where the word Maestrino is hardly used to describe male conductors, the way these conductors are categorised into either a Mr. or a Maestro does little service to the latter than it does to the former. In the case of Philippe Herreweghe, there is neither ambiguity nor debate on this matter. Despite the calm, scholarly erudition, subtle (hinging on the dark) sense of humour, and, modesty he demonstrates – qualities that become clear when speaking with him – Philippe Herreweghe is a Maestro in terms of both experience and musicality. In his wide discography, names such as Victoria and Lassus rub shoulders with the likes of Schumann, Stravinsky, Bruckner, and even Kurt Weill. Yet there is an unmistakable personality of consolation and concentration in the interpretations, perhaps crafted from the sacred music of Johann Sebastian Bach, which he pioneered since the 1970s.

Philippe Herreweghe will conduct a programme consisting of orchestral works by J.S. Bach and Mozart on the 21st of February with the Philharmonia Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall. Prefacing the concert, I spoke with him on the phone on the topics of Mozart conducting, opera conducting, the consoling beauties of music especially of music related to death, the importance of understanding the text in Bach cantatas, the responsibilities of an artist, the possibility of fear in the experience of wonderful music, and, briefly, on the recording of Bruckner symphonies.

Below is a transcript of the interview. I have edited sections yet when done so attempted with utmost care to preserve the content and flow of the actual conversation.

I.

Young-Jin Hur (YH): Hello, is this Mr. Herreweghe?

Philippe Herreweghe (PH): Yes, that’s correct.

YH: It’s a pleasure to talk to you. How are you this morning?

PH: Fine, very busy (calm laughter), because I have meetings and a conference to prepare for. I am also rehearsing for a concert in Brussels. So yes, fantastic (calm laughter).

YH: I’d like to thank for you for making time despite your busy schedule. As previously agreed, the conversation will last around 20 minutes and will be voice recorded. If that’s okay with you, I will proceed.

PH: Ah okay, I hope I can say something that could interest you.

YH: Thank you very much. If one looks at your discography, you don’t necessarily come across as a Mozart specialist. When it comes to Mozart’s secular music, you only had your first Mozart symphony recording about 5 years ago. Yet when you visit London this time to perform with the Philharmonia Orchestra, you are playing a heavy Mozart programme, consisting of the 23rd piano concerto and the 41st symphony. Are you in any ways stepping outside of your comfort zone? Does it matter that you are conducting a modern orchestra?

PH: In the last few decades I often performed Mozart symphonies and even conducted some of Mozart’s operas at the La Monnaie in Brussels. As another example, I performed Idomeneo at the National Opera some years ago. But the reason I didn’t make recordings of Mozart is that, how to say, you have to make a choice in what to record, and I cannot do everything. It would have been possible to record Mozart and Haydn with modern orchestras, as I conduct the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra here in Belgium. But I did not do this because one thing is to perform and another thing is to record. If you record something, in my opinion, you should do it at the highest possible idiomatic level regarding instrument choices and so on. This doesn’t mean that I think that modern orchestras cannot perform Mozart well. There are of course fantastic performances of Mozart with modern orchestras, as I do from time to time with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, for example. I am very happy to do that this time with London’s Philharmonia.

On a slight tangent but still, on the topic of recording music, I make two recordings a year. I have to make choices and when I record later music, I prefer to do that with modern orchestras as the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra. For example, I recorded Dvořák’s Requiem and Stabat Mater, Stravinsky’s Requiem Canticles and so on with them. Once again, I will never record Bach with modern orchestras, and to make it very clear, I don’t think modern orchestras cannot perform this kind of music well. But I will make the point that for making recordings, I prefer to use period instruments when playing music before Beethoven.

Mozart came quite late in my life. For most of my life, I focused much on, for example, Bach. Afterwards, I became interested in Beethoven, and then Schumann. It was only after this that Mozart interested me, so maybe that’s another reason [I didn’t record much Mozart]. An additional reason may be that I think the most important works that you can conduct of Mozart is his operas. Of course, Mozart is a genius and his symphonies are extremely interesting, especially the ending of his last symphony, and I recorded that. But I don’t conduct many operas. Have you heard of my friend René Jacobs?

YH: Yes. I do have a few of his recordings.

PH: He recorded many operas because he’s really an opera conductor, he likes that, and he does it very well. I’m more focused on other musical forms, I would say.

II.

YH: Are there unique personality styles or set of skills required for conducting operas, as opposed to conducting non-operatic works? How do you reflect upon this distinction when you think of your own career?

PH: In reality, an ideal conductor (calm laughter) is at home in opera as in symphonic music. In my case, I am not a traditional conductor. I am self-taught, and I didn’t go through steps normal German conductors would go through. These conductors would first learn the piano – which I incidentally did – then they become, for example, assistant conductors in opera houses, and so on.

My way was that I conducted vocal and choir music since the age of 14, first at school. Then I founded the Collegium Vocale Gent, which was discovered in a way by Gustav Leonhardt. When I was 20 I had the opportunity to record Bach with Leonhardt for Telefunken. We recorded all the Bach cantata along with Harnoncourt, with one half being done in Vienna and the other half being one in Amsterdam. But he [Gustav Leonhardt] didn’t conduct – he wanted me to conduct, which was for me an honour, and was very special because at that point of my life I was also studying psychiatry, which I finished. On paper, I am a psychiatrist. After that, I conducted more and more Bach and I formed my own orchestra, touring them through Europe playing Bach. Then I founded La Chapelle Royale, and we played a lot of French music. When I was around 40, I began to conduct others, like Haydn, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Brahms, Mahler, and Bruckner and so on. This was my development as a conductor.

I conducted 10 to 15 Baroque operas in my life, and at a certain point, I discovered that it was enough for me. Other people like conducting operas even more than I do, and I concentrated on concert music outside of the opera. Which means that I didn’t conduct operas by Strauss, Verdi, and so on, so that’s a field that is out of my trajectory. I am fond of Verdi, and I know that his music is fantastic. I just did concerts of Verdi’s Requiem, for example. Actually, that is something I would like to record.

At the age of 70 (calm laugh), 20 per cent of my professional life, which is also my life generally because I work all the time (calm laugh), is polyphony and Baroque music. But 80 per cent is later music. It’s a little bit like Gardiner, and I admire him a lot (Note: Sir John Eliot Gardiner recently recorded his second complete set of Schumann symphonies, this time with the London Symphony Orchestra. I reviewed 3 out of the 4 concerts. For the reviews, see here, here, and here). On the other hand, people like Ton Koopman – a friend of mine – stayed in Baroque, in Bach and so on. But I now conduct other things, but opera less. Another reason for not conducting opera is that when you conduct opera, which is fantastic of course, you often fail because you’re not in control of the casting. You have to fight for the right singers. René Jacobs can do that. But when I did some operas, I had to accept the singers that were not always the singers I wanted to work with, even if they were famous.

III.

YH: You’ve mentioned requiems a number of times today. Another pattern in your discography is that you’ve recorded a huge number of requiems, from that of André Campra to that of Kurt Weill (PH calmly laughs). Do you think there is a unique beauty in music that is related to death?

PH: Well, good question. How to answer that. First of all, during long periods in the history of music, the music you could conduct was church music. 90 per cent of the music until 1800 or so was religious music because the church had money and they paid musicians to write music. And most of these works were for choir or organs. Among the various kinds of religious music, requiems always moved the composer because the subject matter is death. The composer is very motivated to concentrate on creative powers to make something very moving.

There is something to be said about the importance of texts, in this context. When conducting a Bach cantata, the modern audience very often don’t understand the text. At least in Belgium and in France, people don’t have these religious cultures anymore. But when it comes to death, the story that is told is very simple and clear, and everybody knows the story of the passion and it’s about guilt. For that reason, it’s very moving for the audience. And that’s also why the St Matthew Passion is the most famous work of Bach.

It cannot be emphasised enough. Bach’s cantatas talk about very precise points of Lutheran beliefs. And when people know what the music is about, this forms a very strong communication between the music and the listener. However, people in Holland, France, Italy, Spain, and Belgium often don’t know what the cantatas are about. So you still can still hear the beauty of the music but not its power. In order to understand the power of the music, you must also know exactly what the music means and what its texts are about. On the other hand, everybody knows the requiem, including its text. People have a basic understanding of what requiems are about. For that reason, many requiems, even simple ones like that of Gabriel Fauré are very moving.

I didn’t have a plan when I was 30 to record like 15 requiems, but I think I did after all (calm laughter). It can also be that other people have more character than I have. There are people who are focused on operas. While not a requiem, an Adagio of Bruckner is for me, like a requiem. In Bruckner’s religiosity, I can link his music with ideas such as humankind and the universe, life and death and so on. For me, that’s so moving, and that will also move many people.

YH: I must admit I have most of those requiems.

PH: So when I die you will have the choice for my funeral, to choose one of them.

(both laugh)

YH: You’re not only humble, you are also very funny, Mr. Herreweghe.

(both laugh)

IV.

YH: I have many questions in my mind at the moment, but given that we are short in time, I will have to reduce those questions. My next question is, is there such thing as an artist’s responsibility?

PH: Lots of difficult questions. I would think yes there is. In our everyday life, we have to survive, to eat, to have financial security, to live in security, and so on. If you survive, another important factor is that you should find meaning of what is it that happens to you when you die. That we will soon die, we know this. During a long time in history, religion, well in our culture the Catholic Church of the Protestant Church, provided these answers, so to say. For example, the Catholic Church gives a very unifying answer. If you believe in Christ, you will live in paradise. But art does not give these kinds of answers. Art can’t give an answer because art does not want to give ultimate answers. But with art, you can focus on profound and essential questions that we have, such as what is life and death, even without clear answers. Art, therefore, allows you to live more consciously and with more richness. And I am only talking of good art. The best art, such as by Bach, Schütz, Dostoevsky, and so on.

The responsibility of an artist - but clearly I’m just a performer - is to make it that art can still exist in the lives of people. That means that in my position, for example, I have to fight so we can perform music. And that has even political consequences so that you must fight to get money to perform, and you must fight to be a good curator. I have the choice of what I am playing. So I make the choices by finding good music pieces and bringing them in the best possible circumstances to the public.

The responsibility of a composer is to write good music, not to write to be successful, or to please the public, or to make money. For me, that’s the difference between Handel and Bach. Bach wrote for God and Handel wrote to be successful. Handel is also quite a good composer, but Bach, in my opinion, is greater because he only wrote for God. I think God is the highest possible ethical level, and to achieve this is the responsibility of composers. I am in a very humble position. I try to do my best to play music that I think is good music in the frame that I described, and I do my best with my modest talent to do this as well as possible. Well, that’s my answer.

YH: That’s a beautiful answer. Well, given that time is time…

PH: If you have one other question, why not go for it?

V.

YH: Thank you. In the field of aesthetics, some people say that truly great things can be fearful. Do you think beautiful or wonderful music can be fearful?

PH: Well. That’s another difficult question. When the writer Stendhal visited Florence, he lost conscious by fear. He was so overcome with emotions he fainted. And they had to bring him to a hospital (calm laugh) (Note: Stendhal syndrome). In a sense, when you look into the night and go ‘wow’, and when you look to the endless stars, you are conscious that you are in a kind of infinite world with infinite dimensions. Once again, when in the night you look to the sky and are surrounded by darkness, you feel that the stars are so far away and that you even don’t exist anymore. You can have that same kind of sensation when listening to something very strong in music. Or when you look at self-portraits of Rembrandt, you look into dimensions you didn’t even know that could exist. And that snap can be fearful.

But music is about consolation. And that is very strange, that there is fear but also consolation. This kind of strangeness does not exist in lesser profound composers like Telemann. It’s not exciting when you are a musician and you can guess what will be the next step in a specific composition. In very good composers, like Bach, you are surprised by what comes next. And that is the difference between very good music and not very good music. But what is more surprising is that even if you listen ten times to the Art of Fugue by Bach, you are surprised every time. That’s very mysterious I find.

When a composer of genius experiences sadness in life, such as thoughts of one’s own mortality or deaths of close ones, this becomes very sad music. But during the performance of these works, the listeners feel consoled. It’s a good way of being comforted. The sadness goes away by listening to sad music (calm laugh) for a while and that’s a mystery too. This is a kind of empathy that you feel. In this world where many things are cruel, one thing that can console us is empathy, the feeling that as human beings, you are in the same situation as others and that you are not alone. Very good composers give you that feeling ten times as strong as a normal person can do because their capacity of empathy is a hundred times stronger. And they can represent this in their compositions. And that’s what I feel when I listen to very good music in general and very good requiems.

YH: That’s such an interesting thing you mentioned, that great composers give a great sense of empathy. Does the music become like a human being, such that the listener can listen to the music and feel the human inside the music?

PH: You feel solidarity, similar to what you can feel in friends. For me, for example, Schumann is a very good friend. I know his music and I recorded nearly everything in fact. And I know his writings and his personality. He is not a dead person but kind of a friend. This I can also say about Bach, of course, Schumann, Lassus, and Stravinsky even. But Stravinsky is slightly different – that’s another story. Okay, so I hope I said something that could interest you.

YH: May I just ask a question that you can answer yes/no to? It will take only a few seconds. Given your mention of Bruckner earlier, do you have plans to record other Bruckner symphonies? I am happy with just a yes/no answer.

PH: Yes, I am trying to. I want to do it using a period-instrument orchestra, which is my orchestra in Paris. The problem is that we have some subventions, but nearly nothing. So it’s a very huge cost to simply perform a work by Bruckner. To record, I always dream to do at least 5-6 concerts. The problem is to sell 6 concerts before the recording, therefore. Now we have plans and will do it. The main difficulties are finance-related.

YH: Thank you very much for your answer and your time. I will be at your concert on the 21st of February. I look forward to hearing your music then.

PH: Well, I’ll do my very best. Thank you.

YH: Thank you. Goodbye.

PH: Goodbye.

Philippe Herreweghe and Collegium Vocale Gent, © Jules August Photography

Young-Jin Hur

@yjhur1885