Visitors are invited to contribute accounts of EXPERIENCES they had that involved Carlos Kleiber in some way, or TRIBUTES to him as artist and human being. Some contributions will likely contain both elements. Recollections of having known or met Carlos, of having attended in person a concert or an opera that he conducted, or of having played or sung professionally under him in a performance would be most welcome. But posts by those who simply wish to express their admiration for Carlos’ artistry and humanity will be equally welcome.

Submit your experience here.

In Memory of Carlos Kleiber

by

Dr. Clemens Hellsberg
President, Wiener Philharmoniker (1997- present)

The death of Carlos Kleiber on July 13, 2004 brought an irrevocable conclusion to a fascinating chapter of our orchestral history; one which in reality had come to an end much earlier. It was on May 15 and 16, 1993, that Kleiber conducted his last concert, and on January 20, 1994, that he stood at the podium of the Vienna Philharmonic for the last time, to open the 53rd Vienna Philharmonic Ball. Subsequently we encountered him only for one final opera production – nine performances of “Der Rosenkavalier” in May and October 1994 in Vienna and Tokyo.

Our collaboration with Carlos Klieber is quickly summarized in numbers: between October 19, 1974 (in Bratislava) and May 16, 1993, he conducted 26 concerts, amongst which were eight subscription concerts and two New Year’s Concerts, as well as five appearances during the orchestra’s first and, as of now, only tour of Mexico, in April 1981. He opened the Philharmonic Ball three times, in 1975, 1980, and 1994, and also conducted the musical backdrop for a book presentation which will be discussed in more detail below. In addition, there were studio recordings of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Fifth and Seventh Symphonies, the Third and “Unfinished” of Franz Schubert, and the Fourth of Johannes Brahms. Between October 1973 and May 1994 he also conducted 18 performances at the Vienna State Opera (“Tristan und Isolde”, “Carmen”, “La Bohème”, “Der Rosenkavalier”) and six evenings during the Japanese tour of the Vienna State Opera in 1994.

The statistics are easy to call up, but what a contrast between those dry numbers and the defining experience which each encounter with this brilliant interpreter represented! Those 26 concerts may seem to be an insignificant number for an orchestra which has made close to 7,000 appearances in the course of its history, but the musical cosmos into which Kleiber tapped in each of his concerts, and the feeling with him of not only reaching, but also surpassing one’s own limits will remain unforgettable for all those fortunate enough to have experienced it.

The relationship between conductor and orchestra involved extreme highs and lows: Although the New Year’s Concerts of 1989 and 1992 pleased him very much, he refused every subsequent invitation to conduct this event; the “Heldenleben” in May 1993 was a unique demonstration of his affinity for Richard Strauss, whom he had met in his youth (and which he in private often referred to as a defining experience), yet he steadfastly refused to authorize the release of the recording; the euphoria of those five concerts in Guanajuato and Mexico City, which appeared to bring orchestra and conductor much closer together, stands in stark contrast to the complete breakdown of the relationship in December 1982, shortly before the end of the final rehearsal for a Philharmonic subscription concert, when Kleiber stormed out of the hall, leaving behind a bewildered orchestra, which in his mind, had failed to realize his concept of the opening rhythmic figure of the second movement of Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony – a figure which to him should reflect the name of Beethoven’s “immortal beloved”. “You’re not playing ‘Theres’,” you’re just playing ‘Marie’,” he cried, and in this outburst was manifested the complete desperation of an artist who reaches for infinity, and shatters in the attempt.

Extreme inconsistency characterized Kleiber’s entire being. On the one hand, there was constant concern about whether a rehearsal would proceed smoothly or suffer a breakdown, yet on the other hand, aside from an occasional moment of despair, he was available to each musician for private consultation, and displayed a shy and genuine sympathy. He had a huge repertoire and was familiar with practically the entire world literature, yet he limited himself to conducting just a few selected works. His artistic demands were limitless, yet when he sensed anxiety or ill health on the part of a musician he was full of generous understanding. His attacks of rage were boundless and spared no one, but his manner with children was one of such affection, understanding and tenderness, so as to transform such encounters into most precious examples of ideal human relationship.

This leads to a personal observation. In 1992, Professors Werner Resel und Walter Blovsky, at the time chairman and business manager of our orchestra, asked Carlos Kleiber if he would take over the musical embellishment for the presentation of my book “Demokratie der Könige”, written at the behest of the Philharmonic for the occasion of the orchestra’s 150th anniversary. Kleiber accepted instantly (“I’ll do it – if I get a book!”), and came to the Golden Hall in Vienna on November 14, 1992, and conducted Otto Nicolai’s Overture “Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor” and the fast polka “Unter Donner und Blitz” by Johann Strauss. This was certainly a unique demonstration of his affinity for our orchestra, his interest in our work together, and our personal friendship. Nevertheless, every further attempt to have him return was doomed to failure. That which he generously granted to the Director of the Historical Archives and book author was denied to the subsequent Chairman, a fact which causes a never ending melancholy…

Yet, this is far outweighed by a great sense of gratitude, which is certainly shared by admirers throughout the world who would have wished for many more concert and opera appearances from this conductor. For all of us he reached for the stars, and if he was unsuccessful, he at least proved that they truly do exist.

END

This English translation of Dr. Hellsberg’s essay, “Zum gedenken an Carlos Kleiber,” was published on the Wiener Philharmoniker’s website. It can be found at:

http://www.wienerphilharmoniker.at/index.php?set_language=en&cccpage=news_detail&set_z_news=51

The original German version of the essay can be found on that site at:

http://www.wienerphilharmoniker.at/index.php?cccpage=news_detail&set_language=de