Interview: Sir Donald Runnicles
Last year the EMR posted an appreciation of Donald Runnicles, written by me, on the occasion of his knighthood. As I mentioned there, I go back a long way with Donald, to our school days in Edinburgh, so when EMR asked if I would like to interview Donald about aspects of his career and his thoughts on music in general, I naturally jumped at the chance.
The following is based on a series of written questions and some very enjoyable Zoom conversations with Donald at his homes in Berlin and Wyoming.
BBS: Donald, as mentioned above, we both attended George Watsons’s College in Edinburgh from the mid-60s to the early 70s (that certainly dates us!) at a time when the school had a well-deserved reputation for music. The music teachers at that time were Norman Hyde and Richard Telfer, both of whom introduced their (in some cases no doubt reluctant) pupils to aspects of classical music they might not otherwise have heard. Richard Telfer, as a founding director of Scottish Opera, also made it possible for us and other interested pupils to attend Scotland’s first complete Ring Cycle in Glasgow in 1971, an unforgettable occasion for all concerned. Were these experiences at school influential in your later development as a musician?
DR: It is my fervent belief that it was the exposure to opera and symphony through the enlightened teaching and guidance of Richard Telfer, in particular, that instilled in us our love for this music, for the Gesamtkunstwerk! My debt of gratitude to that dear and gentle man is indescribable.
BBS: You have made your stellar career largely in continental Europe and America, not in the UK. Was this a conscious decision, or was it simply the way that things worked out?
DR: There are two answers to that question, one idealistic and the other pragmatic. After my heady years at Edinburgh University obsessing over the music of Wagner, Mahler and Bruckner, I was passionately interested in going to Germany and to Austria in order to immerse myself in the culture, the language, the people, the history. After so much reading about Gustav Mahler as composer but also as conductor, it was almost inconceivable to imagine an opera house where in one week it was possible to hear six or seven different operas! One night the master would be conducting ‘Lohengrin’ (one of his favourite operas), the next morning he would be rehearsing ‘Figaro’, and that same night he would then conduct ‘Pagliacci’! Only in Vienna, only perhaps in Hamburg. My love of opera had been kindled at school, I was a decent pianist, I was a co-creator and conductor of a large amateur orchestra, Caritas - how could I make the professional leap into the world of opera? Which leads to the pragmatic course - I applied to and was accepted by the London Opera Centre (now known as the National Opera Studio) to learn the trade of a repetiteur- a coach who prepares singers in new roles and who plays musical and scenic rehearsals in lieu of the full orchestra. That was 1978. Towards the end of that year, it was time to be thrown from the nest and secure a job in an opera house. There were very few positions available at ENO and the Royal Opera - I did audition for the latter without success. What then? An audition tour in Germany - the land of my dreams. I then secured a position at the National Theatre Mannheim, a largish house, boasting, wait for it, over fifty different operatic titles per season! If one were to survive the pressures of such a workload, this was the perfect environment to learn the trade. Over a number of years I graduated from ballet pianist (yes indeed!) through stations as opera coach and assistant to the music director, to first Kapellmeister, the number two conducting job at the opera house. To give you a sense of the magnitude of the task, in one of my final seasons there, I counted 116 performances which I conducted. What doesn’t kill you…….
BBS: As an international conductor you have a lot of experience in different orchestral practices across the world. Do you think variations in the ways orchestras rehearse and perform are influenced by the operation of different funding models– for example through state, corporate and private channels - or are there fundamental differences in the ways orchestras choose to work: in other words, is there conscious cultural variation at play here?
DR: The emphasis that states and governments put on the importance of, and accessibility to, the arts in the life of the community does indeed vary across continents. It is most clear in mainland Europe, manifest through the considerable federal subsidies afforded, that the arts should be, and indeed are, central to the general education and nourishment of a people, of a country. In general, the large artistic institutions, for instance in Germany, are not reliant on philanthropy, on the generosity of private individuals or corporate giving. And, yes, this financial security (although often fragile faced with the vicissitudes of politics) affords the orchestras and opera houses the stability and independence of spirit to plan creative seasons, to allot rehearsal time generously and flexibly. This in and of itself does not make the orchestras or opera houses any better than their American and British counterparts - it can however foster more innovative and eclectic programming, freed often of the constraints of limited rehearsal time or deemed public taste. In the USA and Great Britain, in contrast, artistic institutions have had to adapt to limited financial resources in a Darwinist manner - for a London orchestra to survive, for instance, the standard of sight-reading and musical virtuosity are stupendous. Much the same is the case in the USA, where budgets each year are calculated on the basis of private philanthropy, (tax laws and exemptions, of course specific to the USA, make private financial pledges very attractive) - funds that year in year out have to be raised anew. The proverbial suit is cut to the available cloth. On this basis, orchestra seasons, repertoire and rehearsal schedules are organized. Even given these constraints and financial differences, however, the ultimate artistic result is uniformly excellent - the greatest orchestras in the world straddle continents!
BBS: You have spent a very large part of your career in Germany. At school we were both particularly drawn to the music of the great Germanic late Romantic composers – Wagner, Bruckner, Mahler, Richard Strauss – and their great predecessors, such as Beethoven, Schubert, and Brahms. Is your love for this particular period and background one of the main reasons you initially chose to live and work in Germany? I know you now speak almost perfect German. Was it hard to learn, and hard to get into the Teutonic mindset, or do you think you were almost “pre-programmed” to thrive in that environment?
DR: Hard to say if I chose this late romantic repertoire or it chose me! You will recall our Ring visit to Glasgow over four days - that experience, that sound world, changed my life, in a very real sense set the coordinates for my life’s musical journey. Through Wagner, I was led to Bruckner and Mahler - how vividly I recall long and heady days spent in the music library of Allison House, immersed, lost, transported in recordings of ‘Tristan und Isolde’ conducted by Karajan, the monumental sixth symphony of Gustav Mahler conducted by Barbirolli. I simply had to get to Germany, to Austria. Oh, the self-assuredness of youth - Gustav Mahler had been music director of sundry world-class opera houses, so why couldn’t I? It was actually my ambition to lead an orchestra or opera house that inspired me to learn German as perfectly as I could both in speech and writing - I was often aghast at the poor German of some of my fellow foreign artists’- most Germans speak excellent English and are very forgiving about sloppy German. I was also aware that, were I indeed to become music director of an opera house, then I would be having frequent and nuanced conversations with politicians! Now, there’s an incentive to master the language.
BBS: It is said that there are two sorts of conductors – the leaders and the followers. In my career, I’ve worked with examples of both: - for example, Simon Rattle, Marc Minkowski, and Colin Davis who were very clear right from the start of rehearsals exactly how they wanted the singers to sing and had decided the tempi and shape of the music. And those (fewer in number) like Alexander Gibson, Armin Jordan, and to a lesser extent Antonio Pappano, who allowed the singers to breathe and interpret, to a certain degree, in their own space, and followed them from the podium. The only time we worked together was on Wagner’s ‘Tannhäuser’ and my role was almost entirely involved in ensemble singing, so this issue did not arise, since, if you’d worried about my particular role, we would still be rehearsing now! I’d be interested to learn your thoughts on this subject.
DR: Herbert von Karajan purportedly made the pithy statement to the effect that “the secret of good musical leadership is giving the impression that you are doing what your singers are wanting while they in fact are realizing your wishes.” I do not think the maestro was being tongue-in-cheek or arrogant - while deception should not inform a musical relationship, I believe there is some truth in his statement. I would not categorize conductors or approaches - there are many roads to Rome. Personally, I am eager in the first rehearsals with a new singer to get to know them, to respect their musical choices, much the way I would wish them to regard me - only with time will a relationship of mutual trust be built. Generally, singers will have given great thought to their musical choices prior to the first rehearsal with maestro - they absolutely deserve to be heard! As you know, Brian, those first musical encounters between a conductor and a singer, an instrumental soloist, or indeed an orchestra are crucial in establishing a rapport. Both sides can be quite vulnerable and unsure - what exactly is at the core of a great working relationship? That question is as perennial as the answer is elusive. Why on earth would a conductor unfamiliar with an orchestra interrupt, mere bars into a piece, with instructions before the orchestra has had a chance to show their mettle, their personality, their customs? Before the orchestra has a chance to get to know the new conductor? If there is a rapport to be built, then the maestro has to listen, yes, listen to the orchestra and not to the performance in his or her head! Back to the singers - I will often sit at the piano myself for some of the initial rehearsals - that one on one relationship is a huge help in building meaningful and exciting rapport with my vocal colleagues. That potential and ensuing trust, unconditional, alchemic between performers is beautiful and inspiring.
BBS: It’s a hackneyed question I know, but do you have a favourite opera and a favourite symphony? Feel free to equivocate or prevaricate, or even throw in a few names at random.
DR: That is a little like asking me which symphony of Johannes Brahms is my favourite - to which I would respond, the one I am conducting at the moment. Is Figaro my favourite opera? Tristan? Pelleas? (close to my favourite….!) Parsifal? Falstaff? Which Mahler symphony? Oh alright - were I only allowed to take one opera to that proverbial desert island, I would have to cheat, seeing as ‘Der Ring des Nibelungen’ comprises four operas!
BBS: Of the great conductors of the past and present, which would you say have had the greatest influence on you? And having yourself conducted many of the world’s greatest singers, and, without necessarily naming names, what made these artists special and memorable.
DR: I have had the good fortune over many decades to observe, to work with, to marvel at countless fine musicians. As a boy and a student, I was, like all of us in our circle, Brian, inspired and mesmerized by Sir Alexander Gibson - verily, the conductor from then on, I was eager to emulate. Leonard Bernstein had a colossal impact on me - the performances of Mahler’s ‘Resurrection Symphony’ at the Edinburgh Festival in 1974 blew me away, transformed and transported me. What a giant! As assistant in Bayreuth and at the Metropolitan Opera to James Levine, I observed another phenomenal and charismatic conductor and musician - with Jimmy, the whole multi-faceted, complex psychology behind eliciting great rehearsals and performances was revealed to me. He remains a master, although a complex and controversial character. I learnt an enormous amount also as assistant to Sir Georg Solti in Wagner’s Ring. My love and respect for the sensual and spontaneous genius of Claudio Abbado just grows and grows. It would be unfair to single out any of the great singers with whom I have worked since I will leave out too many colleagues. One shout out however for a singer that made such a profound impact on me, so that all subsequent Wotans had to live up to those impossibly high expectations - David Ward, from Dumbarton. Scottish Opera, Das Rheingold, 1971. Life changing.
BBS: You were very left handed at school, writing and playing sport with a sinister bent (using the classical meaning!), and you are famously one of the few great conductors who conduct with your left hand as the leading hand. Have you found that a problem, or was it perhaps a useful trait to distinguish you from the rest?
DR: If I tell you that there are singers and orchestras to this day, with whom I have worked for years, who have not noticed in which hand I hold the baton! (hmmm… draw your own conclusions…) Seriously, I have never encountered any resistance to being a southpaw.
BBS: From your viewpoint at the head of one of the world’s great opera houses, in a country where classical music is still accepted as something essential to the public good, how do you see the future of music, particularly in Scotland, where culture is sadly not prized as we would like it and where, as elsewhere in the UK, there are serious issues concerning the decline in children’s musical education?. I for one hope the recognition of your knighthood may make those in Scotland who have power and influence in this area to sit up and take notice. Please keep coming back and thrilling us with your musicianship.
DR: Since the beginning of time, the classical music world has perennially questioned its continued existence and relevance. Even though I remain optimistic about the future, I do share your concerns over ever shrinking music programmes in our junior schools. Whether it is the provision of learning musical instruments or the promotion of talented young artists, the inexorable attrition of music in our schools imperils both the general education of our children and the audiences of tomorrow. It is sadly only through the tireless advocacy of a luminary like dear Nicola Benedetti, that attention is drawn to the plight in the UK. If I can play a role as ambassador for our precious art form, I welcome the challenge! One final aspiration - may Scotland one day again take pride in and embrace a Scottish Opera whose international repertoire and renown will inspire new generations of musicians much as it did on that memorable night in 1971.
BBS: I hope that our readers will be stimulated and fascinated by these excellent and perceptive responses to my questions. I should point out that our old school friend, David Moncur, was very much part of this interview and also took part in the Zoom discussions afterwards. Many thanks also to Hugh Kerr of the Edinburgh Music Review for giving us this opportunity to chat and reminisce, so many years after we met as boys in 1960s Edinburgh. Our single sex independent school, George Watson’s College, has changed enormously since those days of disgusting over-cooked lunches and corporal punishment, but the enlightened leadership of the Headmaster, Sir Roger Young, one of the great educationalists and humanitarians of the 20th century, and the wonderful opportunities offered to us by the progressive methods of, particularly, Richard Telfer, and generally of the Music staff, were instrumental in the success of Sir Donald Runnicles. Thank you, Donald.
