六年了！
「我在找有什麼我還不知道的曲子！」
馬捷爾過世了，讓我想起了第一次見到他時的印象。1974年，當時我正在 Mannes College of Music學指揮，課餘在一間專賣樂譜的 Patelson's Music House 打工，因為這家店位於卡內基廳 (Carnegie Hall)的正後面，因此經常有許多出名的音樂家、各地來的管弦樂團員光顧 。
雖然馬捷爾是美國人，從小也以指揮神童的姿態「客席」指揮過許多美國一流交響樂團，他的指揮事業卻是從德國開始的。因此當1972年，時年42歲的馬捷爾接掌賽爾 (Geroge Szell,1897-1970)逝世後克利夫蘭交響樂團音樂總監的消息發佈後，一時之間成為美國音樂圈內爭論的話題。又因為馬捷爾指揮的感性與情緒化的風格廻異于賽爾的冷靜、理性與清澈，在他開始接掌克利夫蘭交響樂團之後 ，與團員間的一些矛盾關係又引出了一些風風雨雨的傳聞。因此1974 年當馬捷爾第一次帶領克利夫蘭交響樂團到紐約演出，就讓人格外注目。
一如往常，樂團到達紐約的那天下午， 許多克利夫蘭交響樂團的團員們湧進了Patelson's Music House，跟他們也免不了閒聊起來，談起馬捷爾，大多是否定的多肯定得少，可是細問起為甚麼時，大多數卻又說不出一些具體的原因，我只記得兩則，一位團員說馬捷爾在指揮時很喜歡分割拍子，尤其是在慢板樂章時，這讓他們跟的透不過氣來！ 另一位則說，他太情緒化！……
稍晚一點時，許多團員已經逐漸離開了樂譜店，突然我的一位同事小聲的跟我說： 「馬捷爾也來了！」 我舉頭望去， 看見馬捷爾穿著休閒，正靠著放置管弦樂小總譜的書架旁，在那裏他好像漫不經心的把架上的一些總譜抽出翻兩下又放回，看起來有些無聊。因為總譜是我的管轄區，因此我走過去，問他說： 「大師，我可以幫什麼忙嗎？」他抬頭看著我，淡淡的笑了一下，微微的搖搖頭說：「我在找有什麼我還不知道的曲子！」 我接著問他：「有找到嗎？」他又微微地搖搖頭說：「還沒有！」看來我已經沒什麼必要留在他旁邊了，於是，我說：「我明天會去聽您的音樂會！我很期待.....」他看著我用右手輕輕地指著我說：「你應該去的！」於是，我離開他， 讓他一人在那裏獨自翻閱。沒多久他也悄悄旳走了！
可是，他卻不知道他那句：「我在找有什麼我還不知道的曲子！」深深地震動了我。因為在那同時，我想起了許多年前馬友友的父親馬孝駿先生跟我說過小澤征爾是無時無刻都在讀總譜的！大師之為大師，除了要有深度還要有廣度！ 而他們風光的背後，其實都有著一般不為人知的故事。
紐約時報
訃告
天才指揮家馬澤爾逝世
ALLAN KOZINN2014年7月14日
2011年，洛林·馬澤爾指揮紐約愛樂樂團。 BRIAN HARKIN FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES指揮家洛林·馬澤爾(Lorin Maazel)週日在卡斯爾頓的家中逝世，享年84歲。馬澤爾曾是一名神童，後來擔任過紐約愛樂樂團(New York Philharmonic)、克利夫蘭管弦樂團(Cleveland Orchestra)、維也納國家歌劇院(Vienna State Opera)以及全球其他一些表演團體和劇團的音樂總監，並以其敏銳，有時有些極端的演奏而聞名。
RUBY WASHINGTON/THE NEW YORK TIMES
馬澤爾的發言人珍妮·勞霍恩(Jenny Lawhorn)表示，馬澤爾死於肺炎並發症。最近幾天，他一直在為卡斯爾頓音樂節(Castleton Festival)進行排練。該音樂節在他的農場舉行。
馬澤爾是一個複雜的研究對象，他引起了音樂家、管理人員、評論家和觀眾的強烈看法，其中有些是讚許，有些則相反。
他塑造了一個善於分析的知識分子的形象——他在大學學過數學和哲學，精通六門語言（法語、德語、葡萄牙語、西班牙語、意大利語和英語），並緊跟音樂以外的許多學科的潮流——他的表演可能看上去非常注重細節，在情感上非常冷漠。然而，這類表演常常會被其他具有強烈個性的熱烈表演抵消。
他憑藉精準的指揮技巧，以及驚人的記憶力——他在表演中很少使用樂譜——而備受敬重，但當他表現另類且具有非常強的解釋性時，他會用手中的權力擴張樂句，遵從自己與眾不同的內心視野，重新組建熟悉的平衡。
“他顯然是一個才華橫溢的人，”約翰·羅克韋爾(John Rockwell)於1979年在《紐約時報》上寫道，“或許太聰明了，以至於無法滿足於對標準劇目無休止地重新創作。他看上去也是一個冷漠的處於防守狀態的人，或許這種冷漠讓他的作品裹上了一層冰。”
“這種思路的唯一問題是，它沒有考慮全部事實。馬澤爾在'有狀態'時會帶來人們記憶中一些最精彩、最慷慨激昂、最有見地的演奏。當他好的時候，他會好得簡直可以被列為當代偉大的指揮家之一。然而，不可思議的是，他什麼時候，以及在什麼劇目中表現良好，極難預測。”
小小指揮家
從9歲起，馬澤爾便開始指揮管弦樂隊。或許因為是在聚光燈下長大的，他自信，固執，有時候還有些傲慢：當他接任一個新的指揮職務時，他通常會宣布自己的改革計劃，以及為何他的方式優於之前的方式。他知道自己想要什麼，也知道如何得到想要的東西，如果遇到無法克服的障礙，他會離開，並給公眾一個解釋。
這正是他在短暫擔任維也納國家歌劇院總經理和藝術總監時採取的方式。他是首位在該歌劇院擔任上述職務的美國人。
“我強烈建議再次以馬勒(Mahler)和施特勞斯(Strauss)的方式領導這家歌劇院，”任命宣布後他在新聞發布會上宣布。“我全權負責歌劇院，我不打算和其他人一起承擔這一責任，不過我可能會委託一些人作為代表。”他接著說，“如果覺得有必要進行變革，我不會猶豫。”
他很快便將維也納國家歌劇院從一個每晚都上演不同劇目的劇團，變成了他所謂的“固定”制度。在這種制度下，該歌劇院分組上演歌劇，並頻繁重演。他認為這種方式更有效，更有可能帶來更精彩的表演。
當維也納文化部長提出異議，同時還抱怨馬澤爾的演出人選，並稱他主要是想提升自己的藝術形象時，馬澤爾突然辭職，並為《紐約時報》寫了一篇專欄文章，譴責沒有藝術背景的政府官員干涉藝術。當時，他的四年任期只過了兩年。（2013年9月，維也納歌劇院樹立了一座出自雕塑家赫爾穆特·米利恩尼科[Helmut Millionig]之手的馬澤爾半身像。馬澤爾出席了塑像揭幕儀式。）
他在克利夫蘭交響樂團和紐約愛樂樂團的經歷也並非一帆風順。克利夫蘭的音樂家投票反對聘用他接替傳奇人物喬治·塞爾（塞爾1970年逝世），因為他們認為他不夠資格接塞爾的班。2002年馬澤爾告訴《紐約時報》“他們的關係直到最後也不和諧”。
1970/07/31 - George Szell, conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra since 1946, died last night in Hanna House of University Hospital in Cleveland, where he had been under treatment since June 16. He was 73 years old. Mr. Szell had‐
在紐約，馬澤爾很快贏得了愛樂樂團音樂家們的信任。但一些樂評人，雖然高興看到李奧納德·伯恩斯坦1969年去職以來第一個美國指揮家第一次擔任此職，但他們認為，馬澤爾當時已經70歲，和前任科特·馬瑟（當時73歲）還是同一個時代的人，令他們失望。而且他對當代音樂的口味似乎很保守。但最終，很多人開始讚賞他。
馬澤爾在愛樂樂團的繼任者艾倫·吉爾伯特(Alan Gilbert)週六表示，“就我個人而言，我感激他，不僅因為我從他手中繼承下來的樂團狀態出色，還因為當我接過他的責任時，他給予我的支持和鼓勵。”
洛林·瓦倫科夫·馬澤爾於1930年3月6日出生在巴黎郊區的塞納河畔訥伊，父母都是在那裡學習音樂的美國學生，其中父親林肯·馬澤爾(Lincoln Maazel)是一名歌手，母親瑪麗·瓦倫科夫·馬澤爾(Marie Varencove Maazel)是一名鋼琴家。他很早就表現出了音樂才能：5歲時，他們一家人已經回到了洛杉磯，他開始學習鋼琴；7歲開始學習小提琴。
他的鋼琴曲目包括海頓《驚愕交響曲》(Surprise)的改編版。8歲時，父親給了他作品的管線樂全譜。洛林跟著父親借來的錄音帶學習了樂譜，當他指揮一個家庭室內樂團時，他的父母注意到，他對時機和平衡頗為擅長。他們帶他去與時任洛杉磯愛樂樂團(Los Angeles Philharmonic)副指揮的弗拉迪米爾·巴卡萊尼科夫(Vladimir Bakaleinikoff)學習。
後來巴卡萊尼科夫接受了匹茲堡的一份指揮工作，馬澤爾一家也跟著去了那裡。他們還把年幼的馬澤爾送去了密歇根州因特勞肯的音樂夏令營。
當時9歲的洛林正在指揮夏令營的樂團演奏舒伯特(Schubert)《未完成》交響曲中的一個樂章，《紐約時報》音樂評論家奧林·唐斯(Olin Downes)剛好來到夏令營。儘管唐斯一向對神童持懷疑態度，但是他寫道，這個男孩的指揮“節奏清晰而堅定，並且富有彈性，節拍連貫，偶爾的細微差異也表現得絕對準確、恰到好處。”
托斯卡尼尼和棒棒糖
當年夏季，因特勞肯的夏令營樂團在紐約世界博覽會(World's Fair)上表演，洛林兩度執棒。1940年，在洛林的10歲生日之前，他還指揮了匹茲堡交響樂團(Pittsburgh Symphony)，即1941年7月，11歲時，阿圖羅·托斯卡尼尼(Arturo Toscanini)邀請他在一次音樂會上指揮NBC交響樂團(NBC Symphony)——其中有瓦格納(Wagner)、門德爾松(Mendelssohn)和迪卡·紐林(Dika Newlin)的作品——在紐約無線電音樂城(Radio City Music Hall)向全國廣播。由於交響樂團對由一個孩子來指揮自己的做法感到憤怒，所以他們第一次彩排時含著棒棒糖對他表示歡迎。但是，當他第一次讓大家停下來，指出一個錯誤的音符時，就立即贏得了大家的尊敬。
1942年夏，然後是1944年，他在路伊森體育場(Lewisohn Stadium)指揮了紐約愛樂樂團的演出。但是到了15歲，他把指揮棒放到了一遍，專注於匹茲堡大學(University of Pittsburgh)的學業。
他並沒有完全放棄音樂。1946年，他組織成立了匹茲堡美術四重奏(Fine Arts Quartet of Pittsburgh)，直到1950年，他都在裡面擔任小提琴手。1948年，他加入匹茲堡交響樂團的小提琴聲部。1951年夏，指揮家謝爾蓋·庫塞維茨基(Serge Koussevitzky)邀請他前往坦格爾伍德指揮波士頓交響樂團，他由此重新回到了指揮台。之後，他以富布賴特學者的身份，又前往羅馬研究文藝復興時期的意大利音樂。
馬澤爾認為，自己職業生涯的成熟始於1953年的平安夜。當時仍是羅馬一名學生的他受邀前往卡塔尼亞貝里尼劇院(Teatro Bellini)，接替一名健康狀況欠佳的指揮。他在那裡獲得了成功，隨後便開始前往那不勒斯、佛羅倫薩以及歐洲其他地方參加活動，接著又前往日本、澳大利亞和拉丁美洲。
老派手法
馬澤爾首次擔任音樂總監是在西柏林的德國歌劇院(Deutsche Opera)，同時還有柏林廣播交響樂團(Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra)，他從1965年到1971年一直擔任這個職務。1972年，他接受了克利夫蘭交響樂團的總監職位。
與在柏林時一樣，馬澤爾對克利夫蘭的工作也採用了一種老派手法。按照慣例，他本可以一年只指揮十幾週，然後把其他工作留給客席指揮，但是馬澤爾卻將一年中的大部分時間都花在克利夫蘭。他與樂團一同錄製了大量音樂，還經常隨樂團出行。1982年，他放棄總監職位，成為榮休指揮，並擔任了維也納國際歌劇院總經理。
1984年，維也納的總監工作出現問題，於是馬澤爾宣布自己重獲自由，可以回到他早年那種四海為家的客席指揮生涯。
“我擔任音樂管理者和指揮有20年的時間，”他1985年接受采訪時說，“那段時間，我把所有精力都花在我所工作的機構——6年在柏林、10年在克利夫蘭，3年在維也納。我一共指揮了132個樂團，但是在過去20年裡，我所指揮的樂團不超過七八個。所以，我現在覺得能到世界各地看看，見見那些通過錄音和電視認識我的人，是一件很有趣的事情。我就像個被放出校門的孩子。”
為了慶祝自己的70歲生日，馬澤爾重新拜訪了他在過去數十年指揮過的許多樂團。其中一站就是紐約愛樂，當時樂團正在與幾名指揮家商討接任馬蘇爾擔任音樂總監的事。馬澤爾也表示了自己對這個職位的興趣。幾週之內，他就獲得了這個職位。
2009年離開愛樂樂團後，他在自己位於弗吉尼亞的農場裡創辦了專事古典音樂和歌劇的卡斯爾頓音樂節。音樂節是他與妻子、德國演員戴特琳德·圖爾班·馬澤爾(Dietlinde Turban Maazel)共同創辦並管理的。兩人於1986年結婚。此前的兩次婚姻——分別與作曲家米米·桑德班克(Mimi Sandbank)和鋼琴家伊茲瑞拉·馬加利特(Israela Margalit)——都以離婚告終。
他仍然健在的家人有妻子及他們的兩個兒子萊斯利(Leslie)和奧森·馬澤爾(Orson Maazel)，女兒塔拉·馬澤爾(Tara Maazel)。此外還有他與前妻所生的三個女兒安賈莉·馬澤爾(Anjali Maazel)、達里婭·斯德克提(Daria Steketee)和菲奧娜·馬澤爾(Fiona Maazel)，以及兒子伊蘭·馬加利特·馬澤爾(Ilann Margalit Maazel)。
作為音樂節總監的馬澤爾並沒有居於一隅。2010年，他成為慕尼黑愛樂樂團(Munich Philharmonic)音樂總監。他在自己網站上的一篇博客中指出，他在2013年——時年83歲——共指揮了102場音樂會，在16個國家的28座城市表演了72部作品。他說他渴望重新開始忙碌的工作。
他2002年告訴《紐約時報》，“奇怪的是，作為一個在指揮技法上名聲不錯的人，我對指揮技法本身並不欣賞。我不認為我能對同一段樂曲打出相同的手勢。指揮的目的在於找到一種手勢，能在一個具體的瞬間與某位具體的演奏者的需要相呼應。必須讓演奏者放鬆下來，這樣他才知道他在哪裡，接下來會發生什麼，而且能自在地專注於音色的美感。其中並無魔法可言。”
翻譯：陳柳、陳婷
****
George Szell, Conductor, Is Dead
By Donal Henahan
July 31, 1970
Credit...The New York Times Archives
See the article in its original context from
July 31, 1970, Page 1Buy Reprints
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George Szell, Conductor, Is Dead
By Donal Henahan
July 31, 1970
Credit...The New York Times Archives
See the article in its original context from
July 31, 1970, Page 1Buy Reprints
VIEW ON TIMESMACHINE
TimesMachine is an exclusive benefit for home delivery and digital subscribers.
About the Archive
This is a digitized version of an article from The Times’s print archive, before the start of online publication in 1996. To preserve these articles as they originally appeared, The Times does not alter, edit or update them.
Occasionally the digitization process introduces transcription errors or other problems; we are continuing to work to improve these archived versions.
George Szell, conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra since 1946, died last night in Hanna House of University Hospital in Cleveland, where he had been under treatment since June 16. He was 73 years old.
Mr. Szell had‐ entered the hospital with a fever of unknown origin after returning with the orchestra from a Far Eastern tour. It was discovered that he had suffered a heart at tack and had bone cancer. Be cause of the heart attack, no operation to halt the cancel was possible.
The conductor, who in his 24‐ year reign as music director built the Cleveland Orchestra into what many critics regard ed as the world's keenest symphonic instrument, never courted popularity. Particular ly among musicians whom he faced as a guest conductor, his reputation was that of a ferodious bully, a fearsomely intelligent pedant and a martinet.
But one Cleveland player, the principal clarinetist Robert Marcellus, put the man and musician in clearer perspec tive: “Everybody knows that Szell is a terrifying authori tarian of the old school, but they also know that he is an artist of terrific ability.”
Even when past 70, Mr. Szell (pronounced Sell) looked the part of the podium tyrant. An inch over 6 feet in height, erect and sinewy of figure, his balding head ringed by an aureole of white hair, the Buda pest‐born conductor exuded the imperious air of a Nazi sub marine commander in an old war movie. (In fact, he was a fierce anti‐Nazi and a war time, refugee.)
Orchestras responded to him by producing sounds that seemed to match Mr. Szell's concert‐hall, image: lean, pre cise, structurally lucid, severe and incredibly rich in detail: Always the boss, Mr. Szell seconded the Toscanini dictum: democracy in politics, aristocracy in music.
Like Brahms, he believed that “a symphony is no joke.” The various sounds to be blended into orchestral tone were weighed as on an apothecary's scale. His ideal, he once said, was to become so much a Continued From Page 1, Col. 4 part of the score that intellet and emotion would merge. real conductor, he believed must “think with the heart an feel with the brain.”
From behind thick glasses Mr. Szell's rather bulging eye watched his musicians so close Iy that they referred to his as. “Cyclops.” In his first sea son as leader of the Cleveland Orchestra in 1946, he dismissed 12 of the 94 musicians. His rehearsals, following the Tosca nini tradition, were legendary — tense and sometimes sharpened by what Martin Mayer in a New York Times Magazine article described as “an imaginative command of obscene English.” First‐desk players, the cream of the orchestra, were addressed by name; others answered to such titles as Mr. Bassoon or Mr. Triangle. Some of the rank and file bridled at that.
Mr. Szell idolized the memory of Toscanini, and cantended that the Italian conductor had done more to purify musical taste than any other musician in recent times.Mr. Szell was not, however, an angry baton‐breaker in rehearsal. Far from breaking or throwing batons, lie coddled them, scraping them with sand paper until they were narrow and sharply pointed. He liked them less than a quarter‐ounce, and balanced.
With this sharp baton he made incisive patterns that his musicians could read
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George Szell, conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra since 1946, died last night in Hanna House of University Hospital in Cleveland, where he had been under treatment since June 16. He was 73 years old.
Mr. Szell had‐ entered the hospital with a fever of unknown origin after returning with the orchestra from a Far Eastern tour. It was discovered that he had suffered a heart at tack and had bone cancer. Be cause of the heart attack, no operation to halt the cancel was possible.
The conductor, who in his 24‐ year reign as music director built the Cleveland Orchestra into what many critics regard ed as the world's keenest symphonic instrument, never courted popularity. Particular ly among musicians whom he faced as a guest conductor, his reputation was that of a ferodious bully, a fearsomely intelligent pedant and a martinet.
But one Cleveland player, the principal clarinetist Robert Marcellus, put the man and musician in clearer perspec tive: “Everybody knows that Szell is a terrifying authori tarian of the old school, but they also know that he is an artist of terrific ability.”
Even when past 70, Mr. Szell (pronounced Sell) looked the part of the podium tyrant. An inch over 6 feet in height, erect and sinewy of figure, his balding head ringed by an aureole of white hair, the Buda pest‐born conductor exuded the imperious air of a Nazi sub marine commander in an old war movie. (In fact, he was a fierce anti‐Nazi and a war time, refugee.)
Orchestras responded to him by producing sounds that seemed to match Mr. Szell's concert‐hall, image: lean, pre cise, structurally lucid, severe and incredibly rich in detail: Always the boss, Mr. Szell seconded the Toscanini dictum: democracy in politics, aristocracy in music.
Like Brahms, he believed that “a symphony is no joke.” The various sounds to be blended into orchestral tone were weighed as on an apothecary's scale. His ideal, he once said, was to become so much a Continued From Page 1, Col. 4 part of the score that intellet and emotion would merge. real conductor, he believed must “think with the heart an feel with the brain.”
From behind thick glasses Mr. Szell's rather bulging eye watched his musicians so close Iy that they referred to his as. “Cyclops.” In his first sea son as leader of the Cleveland Orchestra in 1946, he dismissed 12 of the 94 musicians. His rehearsals, following the Tosca nini tradition, were legendary — tense and sometimes sharpened by what Martin Mayer in a New York Times Magazine article described as “an imaginative command of obscene English.” First‐desk players, the cream of the orchestra, were addressed by name; others answered to such titles as Mr. Bassoon or Mr. Triangle. Some of the rank and file bridled at that.
Mr. Szell idolized the memory of Toscanini, and cantended that the Italian conductor had done more to purify musical taste than any other musician in recent times.Mr. Szell was not, however, an angry baton‐breaker in rehearsal. Far from breaking or throwing batons, lie coddled them, scraping them with sand paper until they were narrow and sharply pointed. He liked them less than a quarter‐ounce, and balanced.
With this sharp baton he made incisive patterns that his musicians could read
instantaneously, without having to wonder at what precise point in the downbeat, for instance, he meant the music to begin. Some of his baton technique was idiosyncratic but extremely suggestive and effective: For a particular kind of climax, he would lunge forward from the hip with the sharpened stick, like a swordsman.
His wit was pointed, too. Asked why he did not conduct programs entirely devoted to contemporary music; Mr. Szell explained, “I do not believe in the mass grave of an all‐con temporary concert.” When Phil harmonic Hall, an acoustical disaster at its opening, was given its first remodeling in 1963, the conductor's opinion of the change was solicited.
“Let me give you a little simile,” he said. Imagine a woman, lame, a hunchback, cross‐eyed and with two warts. They've removed the warts.”
His humor could be cruel. some people complained. When he was told that one of his violinists had taken a bad fall down a flight of steps, Mr. Szell's question Was; “Did he break his fiddle”
He Was Not Amused
Early in his Cleveland career, in 1954, he failed an important sense‐of4iumor test in that baseball‐mad city. The Cleve land Indians had just won the pennant, and the orchestra de cided to greet Mr. Szell's first downbeat at rehearsal with “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” The conductor was appalled. “No, no. The Mahler comes first,” he exclaimed.
Later, Mr. Szell defended his sense of humor by contending that he would have laughed if he had recognized the tune— a dig, perhaps, at the quality of the performance as well as a reminder that he was not native‐born.
George Szell was born in Budapest on June 7, 1897. His father, a Hungarian business man and a lawyer, discovered when the boy was 7 years old that he could write down tunes after hearing them only once, and pushed him into musical training.
Even before that, at 4, George had shown aptitude for his life's work, supervising his mother's piano playing and correcting wrong notes by tapping her wrist. The pedagogic urge, often pressed to the point of pedanticism, stayed with him and became part of the Szell legend.
One of Mr. Szell's oldest friends, Joseph Wechsberg, wrote in The New Yorker in 1965 about this pedagogic impulse: “He teaches expert golfers how to play golf (he plays badly himself), racing drivers how to drive, Parisian couturiers how to make dresses, Mrs. Szell how to cook, and writers how to write.”
A Virtuoso Pianist
At rehearsals, Mr. Szell would sit down at the piano and show a famous soloist how the piece ought to be played. A virtuoso pianist before he took up conducting, Mr. Szell retained his keyboard technique throughout his career. In 1967, he recorded four Mozart son atas for piano and violin with his Cleveland concertmaster, Rafael. Druian, astonishing critics with his undiminished skills.
Mr. Szell's career at the piano did not begin auspicious ly. When George was 7 and living in Vienna, his father took him to the great teacher Theodor Leschetizky, who heard the child play and decided not to accept him as a pupil. Leschetizky felt that George Szell did not have it in him to make a career. Lescheti sky, it is said, did not much care for prodigies. Later, the boy was accepted by Richard Robert, another Viennese teacher.
Taken out of school about 1904. Mr. Szell never again entered one as a student. He studied composition and theory in Leipzig with Max Reger, the German composer, and in Vienna with others, including Eusebius Mandyczewski, who had been a friend of Brahms.
Conducting came by lucky chance, as it so often does. A brilliant score reader, Mr. Szell could play piano transcriptions of the most complex orchestral pieces, even early in his training period. One day in Bad Kissingen, he was hanging around a Vienna Symphony rehearsal when the scheduled conductor, Martin Sporr, turned up with an injured arm.
Mr. Szell, then 17 years old, was invited by the regular leader to conduct the program. As he remembered it years later, there were seven pieces, including Beethoven's “Emperor” Concerto, Richard Strauss's “Till Eulenspiegel” and a symphonic work of his own, composed at age 14.
After that concert, a debut in the mythic pattern familiar from biographies of other lead ing conductors, Mr. Szell was on his way. He appeared the following year with the Berlin Philharmonic in the triple role of conductor, pianist and composer. Richard: Strauss soon afterward appointed him to the conducting staff of the Berlin State Opera, after hearing the young musician play his own piano transcription of Strauss's tone poem, “Till Eulenspiegel.” (Even in his late years, Mr. Szell remained proud of his piano performance of “Till,” and would play it for friends, complete with a brush of a cuff link along the keys to simulate the rachet's whir at Till's execution.)
Mr. Szell stayed two years, in Berlin, where he worked without fee, for the experience, and on Strauss's recommendation succeeded Otto Klemperer in 1917 as conductor of the Strasbourg Municipal Theater. In 1921., at age 24, he became principal conductor of the Court Theater in Darmstadt, and later held a similar post at Dusseldorf.
From 1924 to 1929 he was chief conductor of the Berlin State Opera and of the Berlin Broadcasting Company orchestra. Moving to Prague in 1929, Mr. Szell directed the German Opera House and orchestra concerts, while embarking on a guest‐conducting career that took him before most of Eu rope's important orchestras.
Mr. Szell's American career began with guest engagements in 1930 and 1931 with the St. Louis Symphony. In 1939 while on the way back to Eu rope from an Australian tour, he found himself marooned in New York by the outbreak of World War II.
He made his New York de but on March 1, 1941, as guest conductor of Toscanini's N.B.C. Symphony, and engagements followed with orchestras in Boston, New York, Philadel phia, Chicago, Itos Angeles, Detroit and Cleveland. After his debut with the New York Philharmonic in 1944, he re turned regularly as a guest.
During the war years, from 1942 to 1946, he served as regular conductor of the Metropolitan Opera.
A teacher much of his life, Mr. Szell had been on the faculties of the Hochschule fur Musik in Berlin and the Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts in Prague. In New York he taught composition at the Mannes School.
New York Seen as Goal
When he first took the Cleve land Orchestra post in 1946 (he became a United States cit izen the same year), it was believed that Mr. Szell's hope was to follow the path of Artur Rodzinski, who had come from the Cleveland podium to take charge of the New York Phil harmonic.
But Cleveland turned out to be made for Mr. Szell, and he for Cleveland. In 1955 he bought a luxurious suburban home in Shaker Heights, not far from Severance Hall, a neoclassic structure on Cleveland's East Side that the conductor liked so much that he encouraged the orchestra's trustees to remodel it acoustically, at the cost of $1‐million in 1960. He dropped his title of permanent guest conductor of Amsterdam's Concertgebouw in 1959, and settled down to remaking the Cleveland Orchestra into a musical ensemble closer to his heart's desire.
“Cleveland is my home,” he announced. Part of his plan included building esteem for orchestra musicians in their community by extending the orchestra's season, increasing pay and taking the Cleveland Orchestra on European tours. From these tours, which earned extraordinary applause in European cities, and from the orchestra's continued visits to Carnegie Hall, the Cleveland Orchestra emerged with a reputation for technical skill and musicianship that almost satisfied even, the hard‐to‐please Mr. Szell.
Classical Masters Favored
Mr. Szell's musical interests centered on the classical mas ters—Mozart, Haydn, Schu mann, Schubert—but he con ducted with enthusiasm such later Middle Europeans as Brahms; Smetana, Dvorak, Bruckner, Mahler and Wagner. His sympathies did not extend far or deep into the modern period, although he championed a few living composers such as Samuel Barber and William Walton.
It was at Mr. Szell's urging, however, that the Cleveland Orchestra engaged Pierre Boulez, then a controversial avant‐garde composer and conductor, for a five‐year guest engagement. Mr. Szell also served as music adviser and senior guest conductor of the New York Philharmonic during the interim period before Mr. Boulez's arrival to succeed Leonard Bernstein as music director.
In his own way, close associates insisted, Mr. Szell could be a warm man and a generous colleague. The maestro and Glenn Goull, the eccentric Canadian pianist, locked in a bitter battle at their first rehearsal together, and Mr. Szell declined to conduct for subseqiient Gould concerts.
Nevertheless, Mr. Szell invited Mr. Gould back to Cleveland to play under other conductors. After hearing one such performance of a Beethoven concerto, the maestro, made a generous concession: “That nut's a genius.”
His wit was pointed, too. Asked why he did not conduct programs entirely devoted to contemporary music; Mr. Szell explained, “I do not believe in the mass grave of an all‐con temporary concert.” When Phil harmonic Hall, an acoustical disaster at its opening, was given its first remodeling in 1963, the conductor's opinion of the change was solicited.
“Let me give you a little simile,” he said. Imagine a woman, lame, a hunchback, cross‐eyed and with two warts. They've removed the warts.”
His humor could be cruel. some people complained. When he was told that one of his violinists had taken a bad fall down a flight of steps, Mr. Szell's question Was; “Did he break his fiddle”
He Was Not Amused
Early in his Cleveland career, in 1954, he failed an important sense‐of4iumor test in that baseball‐mad city. The Cleve land Indians had just won the pennant, and the orchestra de cided to greet Mr. Szell's first downbeat at rehearsal with “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” The conductor was appalled. “No, no. The Mahler comes first,” he exclaimed.
Later, Mr. Szell defended his sense of humor by contending that he would have laughed if he had recognized the tune— a dig, perhaps, at the quality of the performance as well as a reminder that he was not native‐born.
George Szell was born in Budapest on June 7, 1897. His father, a Hungarian business man and a lawyer, discovered when the boy was 7 years old that he could write down tunes after hearing them only once, and pushed him into musical training.
Even before that, at 4, George had shown aptitude for his life's work, supervising his mother's piano playing and correcting wrong notes by tapping her wrist. The pedagogic urge, often pressed to the point of pedanticism, stayed with him and became part of the Szell legend.
One of Mr. Szell's oldest friends, Joseph Wechsberg, wrote in The New Yorker in 1965 about this pedagogic impulse: “He teaches expert golfers how to play golf (he plays badly himself), racing drivers how to drive, Parisian couturiers how to make dresses, Mrs. Szell how to cook, and writers how to write.”
A Virtuoso Pianist
At rehearsals, Mr. Szell would sit down at the piano and show a famous soloist how the piece ought to be played. A virtuoso pianist before he took up conducting, Mr. Szell retained his keyboard technique throughout his career. In 1967, he recorded four Mozart son atas for piano and violin with his Cleveland concertmaster, Rafael. Druian, astonishing critics with his undiminished skills.
Mr. Szell's career at the piano did not begin auspicious ly. When George was 7 and living in Vienna, his father took him to the great teacher Theodor Leschetizky, who heard the child play and decided not to accept him as a pupil. Leschetizky felt that George Szell did not have it in him to make a career. Lescheti sky, it is said, did not much care for prodigies. Later, the boy was accepted by Richard Robert, another Viennese teacher.
Taken out of school about 1904. Mr. Szell never again entered one as a student. He studied composition and theory in Leipzig with Max Reger, the German composer, and in Vienna with others, including Eusebius Mandyczewski, who had been a friend of Brahms.
Conducting came by lucky chance, as it so often does. A brilliant score reader, Mr. Szell could play piano transcriptions of the most complex orchestral pieces, even early in his training period. One day in Bad Kissingen, he was hanging around a Vienna Symphony rehearsal when the scheduled conductor, Martin Sporr, turned up with an injured arm.
Mr. Szell, then 17 years old, was invited by the regular leader to conduct the program. As he remembered it years later, there were seven pieces, including Beethoven's “Emperor” Concerto, Richard Strauss's “Till Eulenspiegel” and a symphonic work of his own, composed at age 14.
After that concert, a debut in the mythic pattern familiar from biographies of other lead ing conductors, Mr. Szell was on his way. He appeared the following year with the Berlin Philharmonic in the triple role of conductor, pianist and composer. Richard: Strauss soon afterward appointed him to the conducting staff of the Berlin State Opera, after hearing the young musician play his own piano transcription of Strauss's tone poem, “Till Eulenspiegel.” (Even in his late years, Mr. Szell remained proud of his piano performance of “Till,” and would play it for friends, complete with a brush of a cuff link along the keys to simulate the rachet's whir at Till's execution.)
Mr. Szell stayed two years, in Berlin, where he worked without fee, for the experience, and on Strauss's recommendation succeeded Otto Klemperer in 1917 as conductor of the Strasbourg Municipal Theater. In 1921., at age 24, he became principal conductor of the Court Theater in Darmstadt, and later held a similar post at Dusseldorf.
From 1924 to 1929 he was chief conductor of the Berlin State Opera and of the Berlin Broadcasting Company orchestra. Moving to Prague in 1929, Mr. Szell directed the German Opera House and orchestra concerts, while embarking on a guest‐conducting career that took him before most of Eu rope's important orchestras.
Mr. Szell's American career began with guest engagements in 1930 and 1931 with the St. Louis Symphony. In 1939 while on the way back to Eu rope from an Australian tour, he found himself marooned in New York by the outbreak of World War II.
He made his New York de but on March 1, 1941, as guest conductor of Toscanini's N.B.C. Symphony, and engagements followed with orchestras in Boston, New York, Philadel phia, Chicago, Itos Angeles, Detroit and Cleveland. After his debut with the New York Philharmonic in 1944, he re turned regularly as a guest.
During the war years, from 1942 to 1946, he served as regular conductor of the Metropolitan Opera.
A teacher much of his life, Mr. Szell had been on the faculties of the Hochschule fur Musik in Berlin and the Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts in Prague. In New York he taught composition at the Mannes School.
New York Seen as Goal
When he first took the Cleve land Orchestra post in 1946 (he became a United States cit izen the same year), it was believed that Mr. Szell's hope was to follow the path of Artur Rodzinski, who had come from the Cleveland podium to take charge of the New York Phil harmonic.
But Cleveland turned out to be made for Mr. Szell, and he for Cleveland. In 1955 he bought a luxurious suburban home in Shaker Heights, not far from Severance Hall, a neoclassic structure on Cleveland's East Side that the conductor liked so much that he encouraged the orchestra's trustees to remodel it acoustically, at the cost of $1‐million in 1960. He dropped his title of permanent guest conductor of Amsterdam's Concertgebouw in 1959, and settled down to remaking the Cleveland Orchestra into a musical ensemble closer to his heart's desire.
“Cleveland is my home,” he announced. Part of his plan included building esteem for orchestra musicians in their community by extending the orchestra's season, increasing pay and taking the Cleveland Orchestra on European tours. From these tours, which earned extraordinary applause in European cities, and from the orchestra's continued visits to Carnegie Hall, the Cleveland Orchestra emerged with a reputation for technical skill and musicianship that almost satisfied even, the hard‐to‐please Mr. Szell.
Classical Masters Favored
Mr. Szell's musical interests centered on the classical mas ters—Mozart, Haydn, Schu mann, Schubert—but he con ducted with enthusiasm such later Middle Europeans as Brahms; Smetana, Dvorak, Bruckner, Mahler and Wagner. His sympathies did not extend far or deep into the modern period, although he championed a few living composers such as Samuel Barber and William Walton.
It was at Mr. Szell's urging, however, that the Cleveland Orchestra engaged Pierre Boulez, then a controversial avant‐garde composer and conductor, for a five‐year guest engagement. Mr. Szell also served as music adviser and senior guest conductor of the New York Philharmonic during the interim period before Mr. Boulez's arrival to succeed Leonard Bernstein as music director.
In his own way, close associates insisted, Mr. Szell could be a warm man and a generous colleague. The maestro and Glenn Goull, the eccentric Canadian pianist, locked in a bitter battle at their first rehearsal together, and Mr. Szell declined to conduct for subseqiient Gould concerts.
Nevertheless, Mr. Szell invited Mr. Gould back to Cleveland to play under other conductors. After hearing one such performance of a Beethoven concerto, the maestro, made a generous concession: “That nut's a genius.”
‘Seven Concerts a Week’
Much of kn Szell's fear some reputation stemmed from such famous rehearsal sessions. A rehearsal for him was an event, not run‐through. “The Cleveland Orchestra,” he once told an interviewer, “plays seven concerts a week, and ad mits the public to the final two. We do some of our best playing in rehearsals.”
Although he played no orchestral instruments, his knowledge of their capabilities was enormous and his identification with the ensemble complete. Cloyd Duff, Cleveland's
timpanist, said that “Szell considers the orchestra an extension of himself, and so do we. We seem to react to him.”
Some of his men were proud of the musical integrity that they felt Mr. Szell instilled in his men, and contrasted the idealism within the Cleveland Orchestra's ranks with what seemed to them cynical professionalism in other orchestras.
“Even when we have disputes and are not happy,” a second violinist said, “we play well for Szell. We do it out of respect for him, and‐ perhaps out of fear.”
Opera‐House Tradition
Mr. Szell came out of the Middle European opera tradition that produced a stream of important conductors including Bruno Walter, Wilhelm Furtwangler, Gustav Mahler and Fritz Reiner. In the years after World War II; that stream dried up to a great ex tent, although such conductors such as Herbert von Karajan, Georg Soli, Eugene Ormandy and Erich Leinsdorf still carry on the tradition that the best orchestra conductors receive their early training in opera houses.
Coming from that tradition steeped milieu, Mr. Szell knew exactly what to value in European musical performance, and what American orchestras had to offer. “I want ed to combine the Americans' purity and beauty of sound and their virtuosity of execution with the European sense of tradition, warmth of expression and sense of style,” he said.
His orchestra, regardless of whatever outside reputation Mr. Szell acquired over the years, came to accept and cherish his musical standards. One guest conductor, after appearing for the first time in Cleveland, confessed that it had beer “a frightening experience — you feel that you're facing a hundred little Szells.”
Proud of his musical integrity and bluntly outspokn when others chose to softer their opinions, Mr. Szell spared no one's feeling. When the New York Philharmonic asked him for a recommendation on what to do about its new hall at Lincoln Center, he said, “Tear the place down and start again. The hall is an insult to music.”
Even at home, Mr. Szell's musical integrity would not be silenced. He would sometimes stop and correct his wife's casual whistling, insisting that as long as she was going to whistle she might as well get the tempo and the pitch right.
Mrs. Szell, the former Helene Schulz of Prague, whom he married in 1938 in Glasgow when he was conductor of the Scottish Orchestra, cultivated forebearance and a dry wit during her years with Mr. Szell. She needled him about his methodical habits and mania for instructing others.
Both the Szells had been married once previously, he as a young conductor to a girl who decided she liked his concertmaster better and left him.
When he was not polishing orchestras or worrying about the excessive popularization of good music, Mr. Szell interested himself in a few hobbies, fan atically pursued. He collected art and fine wines. A serious gourmet, he enjoyed putting on an apron and making a
Some of his men were proud of the musical integrity that they felt Mr. Szell instilled in his men, and contrasted the idealism within the Cleveland Orchestra's ranks with what seemed to them cynical professionalism in other orchestras.
“Even when we have disputes and are not happy,” a second violinist said, “we play well for Szell. We do it out of respect for him, and‐ perhaps out of fear.”
Opera‐House Tradition
Mr. Szell came out of the Middle European opera tradition that produced a stream of important conductors including Bruno Walter, Wilhelm Furtwangler, Gustav Mahler and Fritz Reiner. In the years after World War II; that stream dried up to a great ex tent, although such conductors such as Herbert von Karajan, Georg Soli, Eugene Ormandy and Erich Leinsdorf still carry on the tradition that the best orchestra conductors receive their early training in opera houses.
Coming from that tradition steeped milieu, Mr. Szell knew exactly what to value in European musical performance, and what American orchestras had to offer. “I want ed to combine the Americans' purity and beauty of sound and their virtuosity of execution with the European sense of tradition, warmth of expression and sense of style,” he said.
His orchestra, regardless of whatever outside reputation Mr. Szell acquired over the years, came to accept and cherish his musical standards. One guest conductor, after appearing for the first time in Cleveland, confessed that it had beer “a frightening experience — you feel that you're facing a hundred little Szells.”
Proud of his musical integrity and bluntly outspokn when others chose to softer their opinions, Mr. Szell spared no one's feeling. When the New York Philharmonic asked him for a recommendation on what to do about its new hall at Lincoln Center, he said, “Tear the place down and start again. The hall is an insult to music.”
Even at home, Mr. Szell's musical integrity would not be silenced. He would sometimes stop and correct his wife's casual whistling, insisting that as long as she was going to whistle she might as well get the tempo and the pitch right.
Mrs. Szell, the former Helene Schulz of Prague, whom he married in 1938 in Glasgow when he was conductor of the Scottish Orchestra, cultivated forebearance and a dry wit during her years with Mr. Szell. She needled him about his methodical habits and mania for instructing others.
Both the Szells had been married once previously, he as a young conductor to a girl who decided she liked his concertmaster better and left him.
When he was not polishing orchestras or worrying about the excessive popularization of good music, Mr. Szell interested himself in a few hobbies, fan atically pursued. He collected art and fine wines. A serious gourmet, he enjoyed putting on an apron and making a
bouillabaise, leaving the kitchen (ac cording to his wife) in remark ably untidy shape.
Visitors
Visitors
Visitors sometimes were surprised to discover that his knowledge of painting, literature and history was encyclopedic. Annually he made a trip to Switzerland, where he played golf incessantly, whittling away at what was believed to be a high handicap (his salary and his golf scores were closely kept secrets in. Cleveland). At one time he enjoyed “collecting odd journalistic misprints,” according to an official biography.
His response to crisis was musician's byword. Whether confused tenor suddenly dropped 40 measures from an opera aria or a horn player found his instrument mysteriously unable to produce a sound during a long solo pas sage, Mr. Szell kept
His response to crisis was musician's byword. Whether confused tenor suddenly dropped 40 measures from an opera aria or a horn player found his instrument mysteriously unable to produce a sound during a long solo pas sage, Mr. Szell kept
- cool.
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