Code of Conduct

The man in black: Eschenbach wants to take Philadelphia audiences to "the land of curiosity." Photo By: Michael Tammaro

Christoph Eschenbach on the state of classical music in America, his impressions of Philadelphia and his plans for the Orchestra -- but first, can someone get this man a cheesesteak?

by Peter Burwasser

This may be the second full season of the Philadelphia Orchestra at Verizon Hall, but in a more structural and even emotional sense, a new era truly begins when Christoph Eschenbach gives his first downbeat as music director on Sept. 17. Anyone who thinks that we will be witnessing the passing of the baton from one German traditionalist to another is profoundly mistaken. While Eschenbach and Wolfgang Sawallisch share supremely high standards of execution and levels of concentration (not to mention a similarly deliberate, crisply accented way of speaking English), they are, stylistically, very different maestros.

There is nearly a generation separating the two, and in terms of musical history, this means that they come from completely different worlds. Eschenbach came of age musically in the 1950s and '60s, and his own intrinsically inquisitive nature always led him to new ideas during this tumultuous period. If anything, there are those in the Philadelphia community who are concerned that his programming will be too extreme, including too much new music. Eschenbach, who was conducting in Sweden when City Paper asked him about this issue last month, has no qualms about the direction he is charting.

"In the weeks last season as music director-designate I found out that the audiences were very open to new things the moment we onstage were open to them. That meant that I spoke to the audience and introduced composers. They spoke and explained a little, not a lecture, but three or four minutes that broke the ice of conservatism. I am very confident that in the future this message I received will continue and expand even more, sufficiently [enough] to take the audience into the land of curiosity."

In fact, Philadelphians with long memories will recall that we have been to "the land of curiosity" before. In the heyday of the Ormandy era, world premieres were a common occurrence. It wasn't just here. Symphony orchestras across the country competed to land first performances of music by Shostakovich, Bartók, Harris and many others. Eschenbach's vision, in this light, represents more of a renaissance than a revolution. As the beloved music director of the Houston Symphony Orchestra from 1988 to 1999, he followed a similar path in what is arguably a more conservative city and has left a significant legacy. His recently completed tenure as the director of the Chicago Symphony's Ravinia Festival was also marked by a skepticism transformed to wonder and joy.

Even before Ormandy, the Orchestra had a period distinguished by excitement and new work. Leopold Stokowski, music director from 1912 to 1938, almost singlehandedly made Philadelphia one of the musical capitals of the world. Eschenbach, thankfully, has not inherited Stokowski's overwhelming ego, but the new conductor's very sound -- texturally lucid and prismatically colorful -- hearkens back to this golden age. And like Stokowski, Eschenbach gives full credit to the sense of imagination and adventure of his audiences. "In this season you will see a different approach to programming," he says. "More themes, which is an attempt to open the scheme of relationships between performers, and audiences and performances."

Perhaps there is something in the miraculous story of Christoph Eschenbach's early life that has shaped his bold spirit. He was born in Breslau, Silesia (now Poland) in 1940. He was orphaned at the end of WWII and finally rescued from a displaced person's camp by a cousin of his mother's. He was so traumatized that he did not speak for a year. His new family was musical and he quickly gravitated to the piano. As a young man, he established a widely respected career as a concert pianist, but conducting always beckoned, and he became a protégé of the legendary George Szell. Eschenbach gave his first public concert as a conductor in 1972, and podium activity came to dominate his professional life. He still plays the piano beautifully, and will participate in many chamber music concerts this season from the keyboard.

The same sense of exuberance and optimism that informs Eschenbach's method of making music served him well in Houston in ways that are unique to American orchestras. He is keenly interested in education and community outreach, and has gamely aided his American orchestras in fundraising duties, which the largely state-run European ensembles don't have to bother with. And he quickly dismisses the notion, much discussed in the American press, that classical music is in a state of crisis here.

"I don't believe at all in a crisis of classical music," he says. "The orchestras of today, especially those who perform at the level of perfection like the Philadelphia Orchestra, and the youth orchestras all over the world who have the potential young members of great orchestras -- in all of them there is tremendous positive spirit. Just from that I cannot believe that classical music will die. And the range of new talent has multiplied in recent years. This is a wave of inspiration for us all. I think the crisis is preached by organizations that are going down, like the old big record companies. But also orchestras have to reorganize themselves, to find new ways to get their music out all over the world."

Eschenbach intends to put roots down here, both professionally and personally. He is moving into the same Rittenhouse Square building that Sawallisch lived in, which will become his primary residence, although he will retain his directorship of the Orchestre de Paris. The peripatetic artist has not had the chance to explore the city much beyond the concert hall, though he is an ardent fan of art, theater and good food. "I hope to try new things. I enjoyed very much the beautiful flower show last year, and of course your wonderful art museum. I hope to include some works by Philadelphia artists in my apartment when it is completed." There are some aspects of Philadelphia culture Eschenbach has yet to explore. The maestro does not seem to know who the Eagles are, and has reportedly not yet tried a cheesesteak. Not to worry -- there will be plenty of time.