Dudamel’s ‘Resurrection’ in Salzburg serves as symbol of optimism
Salzburg, Austria — “Optimism doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine,” the Belarusian flutist and political activist Maria Kalesnikava said in this year’s Salzburg Festival keynote address. “It means deciding to step up and act, even in the face of uncertainty.”
Picture-perfect, Mozart-drunk Salzburg can’t pretend everything is fine. Temperatures are rising and normally rainy Salzburg now worries about water shortage and the environmental ravage of over-tourism. The artistically and culturally exceptional six-week Salzburg Festival, which began mid-July with a two-week Ouverture Spirituelle this year titled “miserere” (mercy), is facing its own political and administrative turmoil and uncertainty.
Salzburg’s worries are our worries; its triumphs can be ours as well. Los Angeles and the Salzburg Festival have been cultural and political soulmates for close to a century, beginning when playwright, director and filmmaker Max Reinhardt, who co-founded the Salzburg Festival in 1920, found mercy in L.A. as refuge from the Nazis.
Reinhardt’s star-studded 1934 music-theater production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream” at the Hollywood Bowl offered a template for spectacle in the young amphitheater, and the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s participation crucially reinforced a young orchestra’s early venturesome ambition following an avant-garde Bowl season the previous summer that nearly bankrupted the Bowl. Over the next decade this Salzburger’s influence on Hollywood dramaturgy would become legend.
L.A. has reciprocated by sending our visionaries to Salzburg, where director Peter Sellars and conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen, for instance, have been given the license and means to inspire a reinvention of musical and theatrical thinking. L.A. arts patrons Betty Freeman and Richard Colburn provided important support for Salzburg during their lifetimes that included commissioning new work.
Gustavo Dudamel conducts Strauss’ ‘Alpine Symphony’ with the Vienna Philharmonic at the Grosses Festspielhaus in Salzburg Aug. 25, 2024.
(Marco Borrelli / Salzburg Festival)
Gustavo Dudamel, L.A. Phil’s optimist these 17 seasons, has long been a Salzburg regular as well, and he arrived last week just in time to take up Kalesnikava’s challenge. Her proclamation of optimism comes on the heels of her having been released in December from a brutal Belarusian prison for supporting an opposition candidate running against the country’s authoritarian leader.
In Dudamel’s case, his life has been turned around by the recent earthquakes that devastated Venezuela just two weeks after his last concerts in Walt Disney Concert Hall as L.A. Phil music and artistic director. His activities this summer now revolve around partnering with the United Nations Development Program to gather global support for Venezuela’s recovery, which is estimated at $6.7 billion.
Although little noted, Dudamel’s buoyant World Cup halftime appearance with 20 members of the Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra and 20 from the New York Philharmonic was as a FIFA fundraiser supporting children affected by global crises, in this case earthquake relief in Venezuela. Dudamel has further turned his last Hollywood Bowl program as L.A. Phil music director into a benefit on Aug. 23.
Prophetically, Dudamel had months ago been invited to close this summer’s Ouverture Spirituelle by leading the Vienna Philharmonic in Mahler’s Second Symphony, known as the “Resurrection.” One way to think about Mahler’s extravagant 90-minute exercise in his search for life’s meaning is as an exercise in attaining optimism in the face of tragedy.
“Rise again, yes, you shall rise again,” Mahler extols in a final ecstatic climax, and it is with the “Resurrection,” which includes chorus and a pair of vocal soloists, that Dudamel began his “Gracias Gustavo” L.A. Phil season last fall. Raising roof, the message was clear: optimism is the native language of Walt Disney Concert Hall.
In Salzburg, where Dudamel’s two Vienna Philharmonic performances were dedicated to the people of Venezuela, those lines took on obvious new meaning. Earlier in the day, Dudamel gave a public talk with a lively German journalist, Marco Frei, in which he described himself as a “resurrectionist” in more ways than one.
The symphony has been a been a musical and spiritual guide for him since his boyhood. He became so excited about a new sense of freedom he feels in the second movement that he leaned back in his chair and kicked his white sneakers in the air.
After the talk, I walked with Dudamel back to his hotel as he displayed a different, more solemn passion describing the toll the earthquakes have taken on El Sistema, the Venezuelan youth program that has been behind his educational activism in L.A.
“At least 140 members of the El Sistema staff and educators were killed or are unaccounted for,” Dudamel said, and that’s not counting what may have happened to a great many children and their families. But remarkably, Dudamel noted, in places where few structures remain, the nucleos (the small El Sistema community schools) are surprisingly still standing. They have become centers for food, aid and shelter.
In Salzburg, Dudamel indulged the Vienna Philharmonic’s incomparable lushness, those plush strings, glowing winds, golden brass, voluminous timpani. The symphony received mixed reviews, with critics complaining of a lack of transparency, argument and depth. Had they been in Disney Hall, they would have had it all.
But here Dudamel became more simply an architect of awe, unfazed by Mahlerian uncertainty as he worked his way to an inevitable cosmic grandeur unfazed by uncertainty. An enthralled audience left opening its collective wallets. Ushers stood at all the exits of Great Festival Hall with baskets for donations for Venezuela. I did not see a single member of the audience leave without throwing in a bill or several.
Dudamel’s “Resurrection” might also be read as a message from L.A. to Salzburg. In the spring the festival board dismissed its artistic director of the past decade, Markus Hinterhäuser, saying there is a difference in vision. Hinterhäuser’s penetrating and uncompromising vision is what has made the modern festival matter. Hinterhäuser has implied political meddling.
It is a huge festival, with more than 200 performances. Last year’s audience exceeded 200,000, with visitors from 88 countries. The arts as a vehicle for coming together can be cliché. In Salzburg, sharing becomes essence, not the kind of narcissism that appears to be adopted by our upcoming LA28 cultural Olympiad, in which Angelenos are invited to submit entrees that show off our goods rather than a cultural exchange.
Over 100 artists have protested Hinterhäuser’s removal, including two Nobel Prize laureates. Hinterhäuser is also an insightful pianist, and he joined baritone Matthias Goerne in a chilling performance of Schubert’s existential song cycle, “Winterreise.” Hinterhäuser got thunderous ovations.
Salzburg’s future is anyone’s guess, but even with Hinterhäuser on the sidelines, this summer is still his festival, meaningful as ever.
A new production of “Carmen” could not be darker, nor more brilliant. It is the latest project of conductor Teodor Currentzis, who has worked extensively with Peter Sellars in Salzburg and elsewhere, and who brings electricity to every moment with his Utopia Orchestra and Choir. Argentine choreographer Gabriela Carrizo makes her debut directing opera and utilizes her alarmingly vibrant Belgian dance company, Peeping Tom. Performing in a vast empty space, two gripping singers — Asmik Grigorian plays an understated Carmen as a survivor in a hostile society, while Jonathan Teltelman’s Don José is unable to cope with that society — turn Bizet’s opera into revelatory existential theater in which survival is toleration.
A scene on the moon in director Yuval Sharon’s magical new production of Janacek’s neglected opera “The Excursions of Mr. Broucek to the Moon and the 15th Century” at the Bregenz Festival.
(Daniel Ammann / Bregenz Festival)
Something similar happens in “Faust, Part 1,” in which the actors spend the entire four hours in a new production by German director Ulrich Rasche walking against the direction of of a revolving disc. To remain in front of the audience, they must remain in motion. They’re dressed in modern business attire, but as they bare their souls, they bare their torsos as they step against forces that prevent progress. The backdrop is brightly illumined screens that hurt your eyes.
This, however, can serve as a reminder of a “Faust” staged by Reinhardt at the Pilgrimage Theater (now John Anson Ford Theater) when it was designed to look like the gates of ancient Jerusalem in 1935. Practically all of Hollywood celebrity showed up for what was the theatrical event of the season.
I asked Lukas Crepaz, who directs the Salzburg Festival’s administrative and business operations, whether it would be possible and whether there still is time for the Salzburg and L.A. to collaboration on an opera production. He said yes, if funding could be found. In fact, the L.A. Phil will mount in February “One Morning Turns Into an Eternity,” a Salonen/Sellars essay in intensity from Salzburg last summer.
Another option: The Bregenz Festival, also in Austria, has just staged a new production by Yuval Sharon of Janacek’s little-known opera, “The Excursions of Mr. Broucek to the Moon and the 15th Century.”
Sharon — who was responsible for the fabulous excursions of his L.A. experimental company, the Industry — supplies his characteristic wit, imagination and insight into a hard-to-please opera about a beer-besotted philistine landlord, who comes to no good in his drunken dreams of going to the moon and back in history, as he does as an angry old man stumbling home from the bar or sitting watching TV (Sharon’s invention).
L.A. optimism may matter more to Austria this summer than it does to L.A. We have two years to step up and act, even in the face of uncertainty.
