Speech of thanks on the occasion of the Honorary Doctorate bestowed on Sir Simon Rattle by the Janáček Academy of Performing Arts, 18. January 2022
Given that Janacek has been a passion of mine since childhood, to be honoured by the University bearing his name is deeply emotional for me. When I was growing up in Liverpool,the chances to hear this extraordinary music live were few and far between, but crafty saving of pocket money meant that I could afford Supraphon recordings, even if many other labels were out of reach, and the Karel Ancerl Glagolitic and The Mackerras Sinfonietta were soon rendered almost unlistenable from over playing.
It was already legend that Charles had recorded this at midnight so that all the best trumpeters in London could be engaged. I also have a vivid memory of listening to the Glagolitic in my parents’ kitchen on a transistor radio,and through the visceral thrill of the live performance, having the totally science fiction notion that one day I might be allowed to conduct this piece myself. Ridiculous of course….
When i arrived in london aged 16,i could finally experience some live performances at the English National Opera,but the most transfixing experience came totally unexpectedly to me as a student at the Royal Academy of Music.
The opera department put on a full staged production of Vixen conducted by Steuart Bedford. I was assigned the off stage chorus conducting and the celesta part. Our first day crammed in that tiny pit was an unforgettable moment for all of us;I had no idea that opera could speak so directly, so theatrically.Or that any music could reduce me to tears so quickly and unfailingly. It was this experience that convinced me that I should become an opera conductor, and that this small handful of operatic treasures would follow me through my professional life.
It has embraced many of my family too;30 years ago my then 6 year old son Sacha,now a professional clarinetist, made his debut at Covent Garden Opera House with me, singing the youngest fox cub in the Vixen.He told friends that the opera was about a small fox whose mummy was shot, which is admittedly part of the plot.
It was 27 years later that my eldest czech son, if i may call him that,Jonas,sung Frantik,the naughty boy who tortures the vixen,in our Berlin production.This seemed almost too poignant an example of Janacek’s philosophy in this opera, that we are all deeply embedded in a world in which everything returns. And how could i have known as a teenager exploring this music that I would end up married to a Brno girl who lived round the corner from Janacek’s house, and who would take me for walks in the Bystrouska forest? Or that in my late twenties, that I would have the privilege of conducting what seems to have been only the third performance anywhere of Osud, where we all had the unforgettable experience of discovering that rarest of all treasures,a basically unknown masterpiece. among the many people who helped me, pride of place must go to Sir Charles Mackerras,one of the most generous of great conductors.
He would always offer what he called a driving lesson on any of these scores i was doing for the first time; this involved a whole day of his life, with time for every possible little detail and all the many different routes towards solving them.Janacek’s language is not a completely open book; one has to enter into his unusual mind to attempt to uncover exactly what he might have meant, and this is a process that takes intensive imagination and a willingness to write poetry using the prose of musical notation.
It was Charles who taught me never to reorchestrate,but sometimes to have the courage to help the most important orchestral lines to come through, while never taming it into another softer edged style. As he warned me,it is a lifetime’s work to navigate this forestland; it has been one of the profoundest joys of my musical life to take this journey.
So what is it that draws the non-czech into the unique world of czech music? This particular colour and sentiment that I could recognise immediately when I was massacring the Slavonic dances on the piano with my father as a young child, and even as teenager who really should have practiced the piano more. The simultaneous expression of joy and melancholy which is so clear in Dvorak’s music does seem to a loving outsider like myself to be almost a national trait; if it was German,it would require a multiple word, like Schadenfreude for instance, to merge the interplay of opposites. The story behind Dvorak’s D minor Serenade,one of my most beloved works, is deeply touching and sheds light on this trait. After the tragic death of one of his children,he was plunged into a deep depression which caused his first ever composer’s block. An invitation to Vienna to receive a prize for which Brahms had recommended him must have come as a god send, way apart from the financial lifeline that it represented. While in Vienna, he heard a performance of Mozart’s Gran Partita, the most significant piece of wind repertory that had yet been written, and still a rarity in performance at that time.It was part of the first miraculous flowering of Mozart’s maturity, and it came shortly after he had witnessed the agonising death of his Mother. This piece provided the impetus for Dvorak to return to composing life, and resulted in a work for a similar type of ensemble that bursts into existence, almost overflowing with life. Without knowing the circumstances under which the Serenade was composed, one might imagine untrammelled joy. But the minute one realises that it came out of profound grief, the shadows are clear, and the miracle of healing which music can midwife becomes apparent. This duality of emotion seems to me a key to so much Czech music. Melancholic joy is still the closest I can get to a description; I have seen so often how adversity in this country is met with black humour, which seems a stunning form of courage. As a young musician, some of my happiest hours were spent observing the rehearsals of Rafael Kubelik,one of my permanent heroes. I wrote down one of his sentences in my Dvorak 8th symphony score; talking to the London Symphony Orchestra he said ‘“Ladies and Gentlemen,maybe you do not understand. In my country, trumpets do not call people to battle, they call them to dance. Yes,it is a different feeling there!”
As I stand here, a semi adopted Czech with terrible language skills, i am amazed to have my name among so many great ones.For this i thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to borrow a phrase from Kubelik, “yes, it is a different feeling here!“
Sir Simon Rattle
Laudationes by Prof. Barbara M. Willi and Prof. Jindřich Petráš
Your Magnificence, Spectabiles, Honorabiles, ladies and gentlemen,
At this formal sitting of the Artistic Council of the Janáček Academy, it is my honour and pleasure to present the Faculty of Music’s proposal for the awarding of an honorary doctorate to the conductor Sir Simon Rattle.
Simon Rattle is more than a conductor; his is a personality that radiates extraordinary warmth, and his commitment to humanitarian principles is plain for all to see. In the days when he worked with the Berlin Philharmonic, I was in a position to observe how his charismatic leadership transformed an orchestra filled with characterful soloists into a unit embracing the spirit of freedom in togetherness. Simon Rattle is a true idealist, in the best sense of the word, whose attitude to life and the values he holds can be taken on trust. In introducing his career, I wish again to use the words of Prof. Petráš’s laudatio:
“Simon Denis Rattle was born in Liverpool on 19 January 1955. He entered the Royal Academy of Music in London at the age of sixteen. Three years later, he won the John Player International Conducting Competition, after which he was made assistant conductor of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra. The excellence of his performances saw him made, aged twenty-five, Artistic Adviser and Principal Conductor of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, whose prominence in the region he raised to international renown. We should add that he succeeded in establishing for the CBSO a new concert (and recording) hall that remains one of the world’s best.
“In the 1990s, Simon Rattle worked with the Berlin Philharmonic as well as with orchestras in Boston and Los Angeles. He was made a Knight Bachelor in the British honours system in 1994. In 1996, he performed with the Vienna Philharmonic at the Salzburg Festival, where he accepted the Shakespeare Prize for outstanding contribution to the arts within the European cultural heritage. His reputation continued to grow, and in 1999 he was made Artistic Director of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. He was Principal Conductor of this orchestra from 2002 to 2018, so making the profoundest impression on its history.
“Sir Simon Rattle has conducted other important orchestras too, of course. In 2002, he recorded all Beethoven symphonies with the Vienna Philharmonic. Although he does not limit himself by period, we might assume that the music of the late 19th and early 20th century is closest to him. The symphonies of Gustav Mahler and orchestral works by Claude Debussy and Igor Stravinsky are among his masterworks as a conductor.
“Sir Simon Rattle’s interest in Czech music – not least the works of Leoš Janáček – is a source of delight to us. He debuted at the Glyndebourne Opera Festival in 1977 with The Cunning Little Vixen. For his debut with the English National Opera in 1985, he again chose Janáček, this time Káťa Kabanová. His third Janáček debut came in 1990 with the prestigious Covent Garden opera house; again, it was The Cunning Little Vixen, and it went on to be filmed. Naturally, Jenůfa has not been overlooked: Sir Simon led a production of this opera at Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris in 1998, and did so again one year later with the Philadelphia Orchestra.
“As for his Sinfonietta and Glagolitic Mass, they are available to view on YouTube, and I would recommend that everyone listen to them. It is my belief that very few of the great conductors, and only masters at interpreting the works of Janáček, could create such a stirring impression.”
Ladies and gentlemen, how splendid it is that a conductor of world renown should have such great love for Czech culture – and for a certain exceptional woman from Moravia! The proposal to award Sir Simon Rattle an honorary doctorate is a tribute to his status as a beacon of artistic hope in the world, and to his humanity in a field where humanity is not always treasured. Not only do his charisma and attitude appeal to the music-loving public, but they serve to inspire in academe, too. It is my wish that the new bond represented by this honorary doctorate will continue to bring delight and edification to us all.
prof. Barbara Maria Willi, Ph.D.
Dean of the Faculty of Music, JAMU