Reflections On Sir Charles Mackerras
The great conductor touched all who knew or heard him, and influenced many more
James Inverne 2:42pm GMT 15th July 2010
Sir Charles Mackerras and Bryn Terfel at the 2009 Gramophone Awards (photo: Mark Harrison)
I suppose we all knew it was coming, and yet it is hard to believe it has happened. Sir Charles Mackerras had been ill for some months, certainly. There were rumours around Christmas and he cancelled some conducting dates. But then he seemed to be back and as busy as ever and, well, it just seemed as though he would go on forever.
It seemed to some of us, indeed, as though he had been here forever. I can’t remember a time in my life when Charles Mackerras was not one of the presiding musical giants. I grew up adoring the operas of Janáček, and for that I – we – have to thank his tireless championing of a composer once unjustly neglected. When I found some of the early period instrument proponents a touch severe in performance (and being a traditionalist I found it hard to entirely divorce my ears from the fatter sounds I was used to), there was Mackerras, fusing the two performing traditions with recordings and live performances that had the satisfying (to me, at any rate) scale and sumptuousness of modern instruments, with the clean agility of period traditions.
But at times he seemed to be everywhere. I remember one period in my teenage years when he was at once blazing his way through a magnificent Welsh National Opera Tristan und Isolde, and on the record shop shelves with a big-name cast for, of all things The Mikado (Gilbert and Sullivan always remained a great love of his, though when I once suggested he record my favourite, Ruddigore, he was, amusingly, less than enthusiastic – perhaps he subscribed to the old belief that it’s the black sheep of the G&S flock).
Interviewing Mackerras was always an inspiring experience. He would, once discussing music, come to life. His conversation was sprightly, learned and specific. He was amusing and direct and for him one sensed, music was very nearly everything.
He came to many Gramophone Awards ceremonies, often as a winner, and frequently appeared in the magazine (the last time with a fascinating take on conducting Mahler’s First Symphony, in the March 2010 issue). My final musical encounter with him was at the Royal Opera a little earlier this year. He was conducting Janáček’s The Cunning Little Vixen. Looking tired and frail, he was in the pit when the audience arrived and didn’t have the strength to leave it during the interval. But the music rang out, full of the intricacies and the irresistible strength of nature. During the interval I observed for a moment Mackerras, happily chatting to the musicians, seemingly delighted just to be there. He must have known how ill he was and decided to keep conducting as long as it was physically possible for him to do so. A man like that does not merely live his life around music, he is at one with it.
A full tribute to Sir Charles Mackerras will appear in the September issue of Gramophone.
Comments
James, I agree with every word you write. Sir Charles wasn't that keen to help with the Mahler project at first - he hadn't conducted any of the symphonies for a long time - but I sent him a card just before Christmas asking him to reconsider, as a personal favour. He then called me on New Year's Day, having spent an entire day immersing himself in the Symphony No.1 - listening to recordings, plus Bruno Walter's thoughts on the piece. His contribution was a delight and, having presented me with it, HE then thanked ME - because "it's been such a pleasure to re-acquaint myself with this marvellous piece of music". He was a such a charmer - a gentleman and a gentle man. I can't believe we have lost him.
Cellist Julian Lloyd Webber notes: " Charles and I worked together on the Arthur Sullivan Cello Concerto which he miraculously reconstructed from just the solo cello part – the orchestral parts having been destroyed in a fire at the publishers. We recorded it with the London Symphony Orchestra for EMI along with Victor Herbert’s 2nd Concerto and Elgar’s Romance.
I loved working with Charles. He was a true enthusiast – solely interested in doing the best possible job on behalf of whichever composer he was conducting that day. That’s why he would treat a ‘lighter’ composer like Sullivan with exactly the same reverence as Mozart or Janacek. For the same reason he was a joy for a soloist to work with as his refreshing lack of ego ensured that the only thing that mattered was achieving the best possible musical result”.
A huge loss. The range of music to which Mackerras applied his talents, and to great effect, is staggering. Out of that range I’m personally most grateful for the work he did on Janacek and Martinu. He gave me my introduction to the operas of these men, works I grew to love like Greek Passion, Katya, Makropoulos, Vixen, House of the Dead. Many music lovers around the world will feel they owe him so much.
James,
A fine tribute to a really great musician. In addition to his pioneering work in bringing Janacek to our attention, he did much to advance the fortunes of Martinu, a composer who had sunk a little from public view in the years following his death. The Mackerras recording of the Greek Passion, following the Welsh Opera production (which I was fortunate to see when it came to Liverpool), was a major event, followed by the DVD (slightly cut) version, and brought to public view a work that addresses many of the issues of the twentieth (and current) century.
From his very first achievement, the ballet Pineapple Poll right through to his recent awards , Sir Charles has been a towering presence on the musical scene. There are others still, fortunately, but in an age of greater specialisation few have his wide range of repertoire : he was as much at home with Mozart as he was with Janacek.
As a long-time member of the Edinburgh Festival Chorus, I had the great privelege of participating in many of Sir Charles' concerts over the last thirty-odd years and, my goodness, what concerts they were! The range was extravagant: a revelatory Delius Mass of Life on the one hand and a period instrument Haydn Creation and some Handel oratorios on the other, then the Glagolitic Mass and all the other Czech music. Charlie's delight at the farting noise of the ancient sub-contra bassoon in the AAM was utterly compelling. His rehearsal style was wonderful - very relaxed and genial but as sharp as a razor on every point of detail.
I was disappointed to learn one year that we would be doing Gerontius with him as it was not a work I particularly warmed to. However the performance was absolutely overwhelming and I could barely talk afterwards. For the first time in my life I felt compelled to write to the conductor to express my gratitude and - wonder or wonders - received a personal letter of thanks back from him and a discussion of some minor Czech works I'd mentioned and promising to consider recording - Novak: In the Tatras for example.
This was Sir Charles - always absolutely focussed on the music, but a warm and communicative human being at all times. He would always mingle with us commoners at rehearsal intervals and happily chat and discuss any subject raised. On one occasion I'd just seen his period Brahms Symphony cycle with the SCO and he happily talked of the merits of this approach - then we all went back inside to continue with his vision of Fidelio.
Because the EFC experiences such a vast range of conductors, there is an unofficial, affectionate (usually) ranking of their individual memorable attributes. For Sir Charles, it will always be of him conducting his way furiously through some difficult fugal passage, while wrapt in intense concentration and chewing and rotating his false teeth around inside his tightly clenched mouth. We all loved him and knew this always coincided with some truly heroic music-making.
I learnt of his passing in the columns of the Sunday Times and this quite spoiled the rest of the weekend for me. As James said it seemed he had been there forever and would last forevermore, but sadly no. At least we have a vast recored legacy that will likely remain unrivalled forever.
Thank you all for these wonderful, vivid memories and tributes to Sir Charles. I have heard that his family are deriving great comfort from all of these things, and i'm sure that those of us whose lives were touched in some way by his music-making also find these stories uplifting. Keep them coming...
I had the great fortune to see Sir Charles conduct Turn of the Screw at ENO in October, and was quite surprised to see him at a restaurant the same day in Mayfair. He seemed so energetic and I had probably only seen his picture a few times in my life, but I immediately recognized him and looked him up on my phone. Yes, sure enough, Sir Charles. At the end of the performance he was feted for leading the first production of the opera. It was mentioned that likely no one from that orchestra was still performing that day, except him. He was brilliant, a great loss for us all. But what great memories we shall have.