Jaap van Zweden. Image by Hans van der Woerd, courtesy IMG Artists.
I have heard some people say, “Congrats, Jaap!” They are referring to Jaap van Zweden, who has just been named the next music director of the New York Philharmonic. I’m more inclined to say, “Congrats, Phil.”—you got Jaap. And you chose well.
This decision reaffirms the Philharmonic’s commitment to being a serious orchestra. I don’t know what Jaap van Zweden brings you “politically.” But he is an excellent and potentially great conductor. On purely musical grounds, this is a wonderful choice.
Readers may remember that I jotted a “short list” back in November: a wish-list of mine, composed of five conductors. I wanted one of these five to become the music director of the New York Phil. Jaap was among them.
So, I am personally pleased. But I have been wrong about music directors before. Sometimes pleasantly wrong: I think that a guy is a poor choice, and he turns out to be good or better.
There is not much risk in Jaap, musically. He has been very well educated. He seems to have a thorough knowledge of music and a reverence for composers. This makes his music-making honest—not flaky or overly subjective or fake. He brings an intensity to what he does. An insistence on getting it right.
This can be wearing, to an orchestra.
Does Van Zweden have any faults, as far as I can tell? Well, maybe a certain hardness, from time to time. But that is not the worst of faults, heaven knows. Ask Szell, Reiner, Rodzinski, and lots of others. Including James Levine. (Toscanini, we should save for a separate piece. I am a dissenter on Toscanini, a bit: I admire the great man—and treasure some of his recordings—but the music could be very hard, sometimes.)
Get ready to squint, because I’m going to do some quoting. Some block-quoting. Alternatively, goose up the percentage on your computer, if you know what I mean.
This is from my “New York Chronicle” of a year ago:
I had heard of Jaap van Zweden, but I had never heard him. Which is odd. As a rule, I hear musicians before they are big. And Van Zweden is big: acclaimed as one of the best conductors now working. He does not have the starriest podium in the world. Since 2008, he has been the music director of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra. But he has made worldwide waves from that podium. In former times, Van Zweden was the concertmaster of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam. He assumed this position when he was eighteen. A Wunderkind, obviously, although, because Van Zweden is Dutch, we should probably find the Dutch word. (Wonderkind.)
Van Zweden guest-conducted the New York Philharmonic, in a program of Mozart and Shostakovich. The Mozart was the Sinfonia concertante, in which the soloists came from the orchestra: Sheryl Staples, violin, and Cynthia Phelps, viola. Let me describe to you the exposition of the first movement, conducted by Van Zweden: It was crisp, vivid, and engaged. It had both taste and guts. This was strong Mozart, almost Beethoven-like, the kind favored by George Szell (and, after him, his apprentice James Levine). Let me say something about the second movement, Andante, as well: It had an unforced, unrushed momentum, which is a rare and wondrous thing. Also very Mozartean. They say that the test of a real singer is Mozart. If you can sing him, you can sing anything. Mozart may be the test of a real conductor, too.
The Shostakovich was the Eighth Symphony, which began with an arresting attack—that’s a good way to begin. The intensity of the piece never flagged (except when it should have). Van Zweden is clearly a leader. When he conducts, there is “energy in the executive.” Years ago, I asked Valery Gergiev what sets conductors apart from other musicians. He said, “Leadership.” There is nothing better than leadership coupled with musicality, when it comes to conductors. Van Zweden got from the Philharmonic a classic Shostakovich sound: clean, sometimes severe, sometimes growling. This Eighth was bristling, stony, and, in the main, riveting. The New York Philharmonic played like a great orchestra. One could see what all the fuss about Van Zweden is about.
I reviewed this conductor a few months ago, too. Again, he had conducted the New York Philharmonic. The program began with Britten, the Sinfonia da Requiem, which
was conducted very, very well by Van Zweden. (Or should I say “Zweden” or “van Zweden”? This is an old, sometimes contentious debate, and I’m afraid I don’t know the maestro’s preference. Or whether he has one.)
From Jaap’s baton, the Britten was precise and intense. Obviously, this was a conductor of intelligence and command. The Sinfonia da Requiem can be lifeless, limp, as other Britten works can be, poorly performed. But definitely not on this occasion. Moreover, the score was clear even when it was cacophonous. …
Let me say something else about this intensity business. By “intense,” I of course don’t mean frenetic or loud. There can be an intense quietude, for example. At any rate, Van Zweden, in his intensity, reminded me of Mariss Jansons when he conducted the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. Or Osmo Vänskä when he started out with the Minnesota Orchestra.
Frankly, I don’t see how Britten’s Sinfonia da Requiem could be better advocated. The music was correct and moving, done full justice.
Later on the program came Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
As expected, the first movement was precise, intense, disciplined—all those Van Zwedenesque things. But it was also somewhat dry—dry of sound. This was especially true of the horns. I don’t say that this dryness was bad or wrong. I’m saying it was so.
The tempo of the second movement, Andante con moto, is hard to get right. Van Zweden got it right. He neither dawdled nor rushed. Beethoven’s phrases were sometimes more carved, or etched, than sung, but they were no worse for that. And the woodwinds were uncannily balanced. They did not stand out, as they usually do. They blended. Let me emphasize that this is very rare.
I swear, the third movement had an unusual Sorcerer’s Apprentice feel. It really did. Never mind that this was Halloween Night. The music had that unusual feel regardless.
The finale was wonderful, needless to say. A little dry. And let me register this criticism—or rather this observation: There was not a lot of spiritual glory in the finale. It was more like a slightly angry, secular hymn, if you can imagine. Did that make it wrong? No, of course not. But it was a little different.
Now to a caution: Van Zweden has the reputation of a martinet: an old-fashioned podium tyrant, or semi-tyrant, in the mold of … well, some of the conductors I mentioned earlier: Szell, Reiner, Rodzinski, Toscanini. If he behaves this way in New York, will the players stand for it? The New York Philharmonic is a notoriously hard group to boss around, or even direct. An insider once told me, “Don’t think of them as an orchestra. Think of them as Local 802.” Chances are, however, that both conductor and orchestra will find a way to make their marriage work. And music will be the beneficiary.
To say it again, the New York Philharmonic has made a wonderful choice, and a bold one. In fact, its boldness is part of its wonderfulness, in my opinion. In an age of unrelenting hype and fashion and political correctness, they have named a real musician, whose values are timeless.
Of course, he does give you an excellent name for a poster or something: “Jaap!” And perhaps New York will be full of Jaapoholics. And the Philharmonic will sound its barbaric Jaap over the roofs of the world.