I’ve been (in between watching marathon stretches of House MD on dvd) thinking a bit more about the flap over Gilbert Kaplan conducting the New York Philharmonic. It seems that there are two diverging views of the situation, both of which are misguided, or at least misappropriated.
Kaplan #1 is an earnest amateur, passionate about one piece, and serves as an inspiration for other musical enthusiasts in the audience.
Kaplan #2 is a charlatan, a fat cat who has a huge ego and thinks that he can conduct on a professional level with the best orchestras in the world.
On the first count, there’s nothing that leads me to believe that it’s a false assumption. Kaplan is passionate, some would even say obsessed, with Mahler’s 2nd Symphony. He loves the piece and has done everything short of (well, actually, he might have done this, who’s to say?) having seances with Mahler to get into the inner workings of what exactly Mahler meant by what he wrote on the page. There are similar aficionados who are into rare stringed instruments – they collect Strads, Amatis, Del Jesus, etc. and build elaborate vaults for them at home and invite soloists and chamber music Illuminati to play on the instruments (and if the collector is a player) play them alongside with the collector. Is there anything wrong with this? Absolutely not – if all the cards are on the table, that is.
If you walked in to a hospital and told the receptionist that you knew everything possible about viral meningitis, that you’d read every journal article, apprenticed with all of the leading experts around the world, and that you’d observed many actual cases in person under many different circumstances. You ask if you can begin treating patients for this disease. You would be laughed out the door. Why? Well, first of all, you’re not licensed to practice medicine anywhere under any circumstances. As part of licensing, you’d have completed your eight years of medical school, internship, and residency. And you’d pass a comprehensive set of board certification exams to prove your competency. Why is all of this required? Because to be a doctor, even a specialist in a very specific illness, you need to have a vast body of knowledge about all of the systems of the body and how they interrelate. You cannot understand a single disease unless you also understand the entire body.
The same can be said of conducting.
Most conductors (if not all) played an instrument before they began conducting. They learned about what it is to perform music from the most basic level to an advanced level of proficiency. As part of their education on their instrument(s) they learned music theory, how their parts fit with other parts in the orchestra, and how to be an effective chamber musician. They would also learn about the entire range of music history, from ancient Greece to the present day. They would receive ear training and sight-singing instruction that would enable them to visualize the sound of a piece just by looking at the score, and to hear what wasn’t in the score when rehearsing a piece.
This takes years to accomplish. Most musicians study their instruments for 10 years before they even start college, and the audition process for the best music schools is brutally selective.
Good or great conductors have to understand a complex piece that an orchestra has never performed before, and teach it to close to a hundred highly paid, egocentric musicians (who have probably played a lot more music than the conductor has conducted), and not only convince them of his or her competency and infallibility, but also convince them that his or her opinion is artistically and theoretically valid, all without giving a major policy speech before or during the rehearsal process. They have to have to know what led up to the new work in order to understand it and lead it. They have a way of conveying vital information on the fly through gestures which not only show basic elements such as tempo, pulse, and volume, but also are able to give, through facial expressions and body language, the emotional subtext of section of a piece as well. The mystery is that some conductors have little or no education but are naturals at leading an orchestra. They burn out pretty quickly, however, when the honeymoon period wears off and the lack of substance becomes evident. Others have enormous brainpower and laser-precise stick technique, but convey no emotional connection to the pieces that they conduct. The great conductors have a miraculous mixture of both – brains, technique, emotion, charisma. It’s extremely rare.
Now, if Kaplan presented himself as Kaplan #1 – an enthusiast with a lot of theoretical knowledge about one piece who acknowledged that he wasn’t really a conductor, but someone who was basically an amateur scholar who would give some notes about the way things were written in the score during rehearsals, and then get out of the way for the performance, and basically admitted all of that to the orchestra and the public beforehand, then I think there isn’t an orchestra in the world that wouldn’t just let the guy have his week on the podium and grit their teeth and look on it as a goodwill gesture.
But that’s not the way Kaplan presented himself (either through his PR firm or the NYPhil management). Kaplan was booked by the NYPhil to conduct the Mahler 2nd on the 100th anniversary of its US premiere with the same orchestra under the direction of the composer. It’s likely that no-one could live up to that example (except for the dead conductors that get trotted out in all Mahlerian arguments – Bernstein, Sinopoli, Klemperer, Walter, etc.) but to put Kaplan up on the podium as a world authority on the work (and with nothing said about his conducting ability, you will note), that’s left for the reader to infer, and since Kaplan’s a world authority on the work, most people would assume that he’s a great conductor of the work as well. So when he shows up and can’t produce the goods, and with the history that the NYPhil has with this piece, the reaction is not at all surprising, nor basically incorrect, either. So, through the triumph of modern marketing and public relations acumen, we get Kaplan #1 who ends up coming off as Kaplan #2. The general public always sees him as 80% #1 and 20% #2, while objective, trained musicians end up seeing him as exactly the opposite.
The problem is, they’re both wrong. If I’m hiring someone to paint my house, and you come along and say “I suck at painting, but I’m cheap and I’ll give you a free flat screen hdtv if you let me paint your house,” and you hire them, get your tv and then get all pissed off that your house looks like crap – then it’s as much your fault as theirs. On the other hand, if they come in and say “I know everything there is to know about house painting, I’ve painted at least a hundred houses before yours, and I’m up on the latest techniques for house painting,” and your house looks like crap after they’re done, then they are at fault because they lied to you.
In this case, however, it looks like a combination of both scenarios. The housepainter shows up and says that he has a lot of experience and costs less, and he will give you a television if he gets the job. You call his previous clients, and they say that he didn’t do a great job, but it was ok, and they got a great tv out of it. You decide to hire him, are underwhelmed by his job, and you get all pissed off. Only in this situation, you’re mad both because the painter sucked and because you got suckered.
So, in the end, it comes down to intellectual honesty.
Did Kaplan claim to be a great conductor? I’m not sure he did, but those who report on him never seem to ask musicians what they think – no one ever seems to ask him what business he has stepping in front of an orchestra. Why? And why was Kaplan played up as a great musical authority figure with great fanfare in the New York Times before the performances? Arguably, he would have sold as many tickets with a more honest portrayal of his amateur enthusiast status, while also making major contributions in scholarship. The concert was a benefit for the musicians’ pension fund, not as a make-or-break profit/loss generator towards the annual budget, so there wasn’t a lot at risk here, except that perhaps a major conductor might cost a lot more and possibly wipe out funds that would go into the fund.  Did the Philharmonic musicians only suddenly realize Kaplan wasn’t a great or even basically competent conductor when he showed up for rehearsals? You can find out about the relative merits of any conductor working today by calling maybe five or ten musician friends around the country, it’s not difficult to do. Why didn’t the orchestra committee march into the administration offices as soon as they learned of the booking – they should have known at least a year in advance?
I don’t know the answers to those questions – but they should have been asked.
As a final note, I’d like to say that Lebrecht should have talked about these aspects in his “rebuttal”, but he chose the low road. He used the classic fascist response to criticism by attempting to dehumanize the person with whom he disagreed. He called the orchestra names and spread idle gossip about what other conductors supposedly thought of the Philharmonic. Lebrecht is supposedly a journalist. He could have taken an in-depth look at the issues that this whole episode has raised, but he chose to take the argument to the schoolyard rather than to the library. It’s a shame that he showed himself to be a bully rather than an inquisitive and passionate observer (and advocate) for the classical music industry. But then again, he has made his name (and his money) by shouting disaster from the rooftops rather than looking for the causes., but then again, the truth is often complex and shaded as well as simply inconvenient.
20 replies on “additional thoughts on kaplan”
[…] madly about Gilbert Kaplan’s appearance with the New York Philharmonic. Charles Noble had a long post worth reading that captured pretty much every interesting angle on the subject. He was especially […]
Excellent analysis, Charles! I’ve enjoyed following this debate through your blog. I’m not a fan of NL either. I think you do a much better job…
Bravo!
Here’s an excerpt from a 1989 Gramophone magazine review of Kaplan’s first Mahler Second recording:
“Much has already been written about Gilbert Kaplan’s extraordinary obsession with Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony. A wealthy publisher and financier, he not only owns the manuscript and has published it in a facsimile that is a miracle of book-production, but he took lessons to enable him to conduct it. This he has done on many occasions, with several orchestras. Naturally this has led to a good deal of scepticism and to ‘toffee-nosed’ disparagement from some professional musicians and academics. With the uncharitableness and new puritanism which disfigure so much of today’s writing about music, it will be viewed as a crime for an amateur to invade the closed shop and if the amateur also happens to be rich, then that is the ultimate indiscretion. No doubt Kaplan’s wealth has been a big advantage to him (and to others, incidentally) but I suspect it is irrelevant in this case. If a post-office worker like the late Frank Walker, who was not a professional writer, devotes all his spare time to ferreting out and correcting errors and misconceptions about Hugo Wolf and Verdi so that he can write books about them which changed our perceptions of both composers, then that is scholarship and everyone admires it. Why should Kaplan’s devotion to the minutiae of this Mahler symphony not be regarded in a similar spirit?”
“One answer,†the reviewer notes, “is that writing is a solitary art and act [while] conducting a choral symphony involves over 200 other people and persuading them to do what you want. Anyone can beat time; only a relative few can conduct and ‘interpret’….Having heard [Kaplan] at a concert and now on this recording, no one will persuade me that he cannot conduct Mahler’s Second Symphony. An interpretation of this degree of excellence and emotional range cannot be faked by a nod, say from the orchestra leader.†In the end, the reviewer compares Kaplan’s recording to that of Simon Rattle, saying that the two “complement each other and I should not wish to be without either.”
Kaplan has been performing this piece on a more or less regular basis since 1982, and he even recorded it again with the Vienna Philharmonic in 2003. He has established a foundation dedicated to studying and preserving the composer’s music, and along with Renate Stark-Voigt, who is herself a highly regarded Mahler scholar, he has been commissioned to produce a new critical edition of the Second Symphony, to be issued under the auspices of the Internationale Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft in Vienna. Now none of this makes him a great conductor, nor does it automatically qualify him to stand in front of the New York Philharmonic (or any other orchestra for that matter). I think it’s safe to say, though, that after 25 years of living with the work, he has more than a passing familiarity with it. That alone is no small feat.
Finlayson has certainly raised a number of very interesting questions, but I’m wondering why this is such a hot button issue on the musical blogosphere right now. It’s not entirely clear to me what’s really driving all of the passion and intensity.
My response would be “should an academic medical researcher jump into clinical practice in a major hospital?” – if the answer is no, then that’s why there’s an issue with Kaplan as a conductor, for all of the reasons I outlined in my post above. If the answer is yes, would you go to that doctor?
My next thought would be that it has a lot to do with the professional/amateur schism and all the baggage that that entails. I may get around to posting about that subject in the new year. Thanks for writing in, Bob!
There’s a big difference between an academic medical researcher and an amateur conductor. For one thing, no one’s life is in put in danger when Kaplan lifts his baton.
The issue of professional status, and the qualitative perceptions that go along with that status, is quite interesting and I hope you’re able to pick it up in a later post. I’d be happy to share my own experiences as a musicologist without a Ph.D or an academic position.
I agree with Charles on this one, and the analogy with the doctor is apt. I would follow the money on this one, I doubt the Philharmonic would do anything if it didn’t involve a handsome addition to the bottom line (good for them I say, they have to face the painful reality…)
Wow, you certainly have some time on your hands these days! Say, between the DVD player and the keyboard, how about working up Heinz Holliger’s “Trema” for solo viola? :)))
Anyway, I like your medical-schooled doctor analogy and find it to be spot-on. Sadly, even in that rigorous world, one winds up with incompetent hacks (murderers?) like the well-known local, Dr. Jayant Patel. Yes, I’m giving an extreme example which does not bear any real analogical resemblance to the extremity of Mr. Kaplan’s case history. Or does it? For, you see, one thing is consistent in both sorry scenarios; there are, and have been, numerous colluders that have helped usher along the careers of both men.
It’s an interesting situation. Lebrecht seems to be stuck in the last days of the Empire, with the ruling class calling the shots on the lowly working class, and being afraid that they’ll get their collective act together and start running their own show. That “stay down where you belong” attitude really rubs me the wrong way on so many levels.
Also, there’s a disturbing backlash against the supposed “elites” in all their flavors. We idolize pop stars who come from humble roots, or just care enough to get past Paula, Randy and Simon and make it big. On the other hand, we’re suspicious of those who have undergone rigorous educational processes yet still deign to entertain us. It’s sort of a new wrinkle on the Madonna/Whore duality. We want to be entertained, but never to know how much incredibly hard work it takes to be a quality musician in any genre.
Fascinating discussion here. I wonder if there is a way of finding out if Kaplan “made a charitable donation” to the NYPhil pension fund? Or, if he donated his “conducting” services for free? In one of the articles he seems to imply he has never paid to conduct an orchestra.
I think the key factor for me is that if it is always made clear that he is an “amateur conductor” – albeit one who has invested a lot of his time and money into his obsession with this score – then it is entirely up to the audience to decide whether they want to spend their money watching him conduct/or pretend to conduct the NYPhil, or rather stay at home and watch Bernstein do the same work on DVD. Personally, I would have stayed at home, but I can understand a lot of people perhaps feeling inspired by his situation… rightly or wrongly…
Charles – how would you and your colleagues react in these difficult economic times if Kaplan, or any other “amateur” conductor for that matter, approached the Oregon Symphony and said: “I’ll donate $100K to the endowment fund if you let me conduct Mahler 2/Beethoven 5… etc etc” ??
I think we say come on over and let’s do it – within reason, of course! I believe that one of the articles said that Kaplan was a regular supporter of the Philharmonic, a figure of $10,000 each season seems to come to mind. So, he was a good supporter, but hardly in the top echelon of givers to the NYPhil, especially considering his net worth.
It’s interesting that Rosalind should mention the audience, because audience reaction to Kaplan’s performances is one of things that I’ve noticed lacking in just about all of the blog coverage of this topic. We’ve heard a lot from musicians and music critics, but precious little from the people who bought tickets.
Speaking of audiences, I was also reminded of a link Charles posted a few weeks back to a piece by Holly Mulcahy entitled “How To Alienate Your Audience in 10 Easy Steps: Musicians.” For Step 7 (“Roll eyes when your colleagues make mistakes during concerts”) she wrote, “There is nothing more insulting to you as a professional than a fellow musician that is not performing to your standards. Worse still, someone in the audience might think you were the idiot who made the mistake. Rolling your eyes and/or smirking lets everyone know that you are not only innocent of the transgression but you acknowledge that it was wholly ruined by someone else.”
Step 8 (“Snub anyone and everyone in a lesser artistic position to yours”) seemed to be particularly relevant to the discussion of professional status. “It is a shame to admit it, but everyone gets caught up in the social status bear trap at one point or another. Even so, it pays to keep the social fight or flight mechanism from clouding your judgment. You never know who you are talking with so be nice and treat all colleagues with the level of respect you expect they would show to you.”
As I wrote in an update to my initial post on this on Sounds & Fury (and I quote):
“[E]ven were Mr. Kaplan a genuine Mahler scholar (NPI) as he’s put out to be, that in no way qualifies him to mount the podium in front of one of the greatest symphonic ensembles in the world. We mean, the man is not even a trained musician much less a trained conductor, fer chrissake. However, we suspect that what prompted the strident attack on him by Finlayson was, in large part, for the wrong reasons. We suspect that what got to Finlayson was Kaplan’s insufferable arrogance, NOT his lack of qualification. We suspect that had Kaplan adopted the attitude of, say, Danny Kaye when he stood on the podium in front of the NYP for their pension concert, and, like Kaye, took the attitude that, as a conductor, it was all in the spirit of good will rather than an attempt at a definitive performance of the Mahler No. 2, Finlayson’s flaying criticism of Kaplan would never have been written. ”
ACD
The Kaplan case reminds me of Sir Paul McCartney a bit. If not for Pauly’s name recognition and financial clout, his 4th-rate “classical” compositions would barely see the light of day (or is it, hear the breath of sound?). That they are recorded on top labels and performed by world-class orchestras around the globe irks me considerably.
Then again, perhaps it’s time to program McCartney’s “Liverpool Oratorio” here in Portland to help refill the sagging coffers of some local arts organizations? You want a younger audience at concerts? Paul’s “classical” works are just the ticket. AND, if Yale can give him an honorary doctorate, why can’t one of PDX’s finer schools join in on the Ivy League fun? Wouldn’t you just love to see “Beatlemania” erupt once again among the aging academics screaming in their seats?
D-Bob says, Let’s do it!
PS
Now, getting Paul to cut loose with a few steamin’ rockers at an after-hours club WOULD be worth the price of admission!
As I recall, we programmed “Standing Stone” and it was a financial disaster, who knows, it’s hard to tell what will sell in a particular market.
ACD – exactly my point, and something that’s been ignored by most of the people involved.
BTW, I saw Danny Kaye backstage after an LA Phil. concert many years ago. He was roaring drunk. He, and symphony musicians around him, were having a great time. They seemed to love him.
As for McCartney’s appalling “Standing Stone” being a financial disaster when it was presented here in PDX, perhaps it wasn’t marketed correctly? It would be interesting to know more of the details surrounding that occasion.
However, with the right kitschmeister in charge of promotion for the 1-2-3 punch I outline above (oratorio, doctorate after-hours love fest), I believe that a bona-fide tidal-wave of ticket sales would ensue.
D-Bob says, come on “kids,” let’s give it a go!
Danny Kaye never claimed he was a conductor, great or otherwise, and he was actually a very good, astute, musician. So he had the respect of those with whom he worked – and being a comedic genius didn’t hurt!
Agreed 100%.
Now, when does Robin Williams get the baton? Imagine how much fun the rehearsals would be!