Salonen: ‘So Many Possibilities’ : Music Director Contemplates His Future With Philharmonic

At the appointed hour on Monday--an indecently early hour--Esa-Pekka Salonen personally answers the door to his suite in a chic Sunset Strip hotel. He doesn’t travel with major-domos.

The incipient 31-year-old music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic looks tired and a bit befuddled. Pink shadows around his eyes contradict his boyish image. A lost glob of shaving cream still ornaments his ear. As he talks, he nervously touches his face with his hands.

He has endured a busy weekend and is very much on display. He arrived, jet-lagged, late on Saturday, met with local officialdom on Sunday, and is about to brave an introductory breakfast with members of his orchestra-to-be. An official meeting with the massed media is to follow.

He musters a semblance of graceful bonhomie under pressure. He is eager, however, to get back to Europe to salvage what remains of his two-week vacation. The opening of the symphony season looms in Stockholm, as do some important recording dates.

Right now, however, the obsessive subject has to be Los Angeles.

He is curious as to how word of his appointment had oozed beyond the usual news-control barriers.

“Was it because my management refused to arrange an interview?” he wonders.

Salonen’s personal management had indeed rebuffed all requests for a conversation, ever since Andre Previn acrimoniously announced his resignation in April. An obvious favorite from the start among the possible candidates, the Finnish guest had never been shy of the press in the past. It was a clue.

“We have been negotiating since May,” he admits. “I signed my copy of the contract five days ago.”

The negotiations with Los Angeles apparently were not difficult. “I don’t think the process was complex,” he says in perfect, slightly brittle English, “but this is the first time I have done anything like this. I have no point of reference.”

His only comparable job at the moment is leadership of the Stockholm Radio Symphony. He has not yet decided if he will give it up when he comes here.

“It is a very important post in Scandinavia,” he explains when prodded, “but Los Angeles is more in the public eye.”

He dispatches the basic questions efficiently.

Yes, of course he is delighted to be named the 11th permanent conductor here. He loves the orchestra, enjoys a good rapport with the audience, looks forward to working with managing director Ernest Fleischmann, and his team, sees this opportunity as a great adventure. New arrivals always say things like that.

His initial contract calls for 16 weeks here each season for three years beginning in 1992. That fundamental commitment includes appearances at the Hollywood Bowl, recordings and tours.

“I wish it were possible to be here more but my calendar is already full. I will arrange to be here for a substantial time after the 1990 season, but next season (1989-90) I can only come for a week in December.”

Although his predecessor cited managerial interference as his reason for leaving, Salonen says he foresees no such problem.

“I get along very well with Ernest Fleischmann. He has been very supportive from the beginning. I feel his experience and expertise can be very useful.

“Of course, there has to be a division of labor. The music director is the one who makes the artistic decisions. All contracts with American orchestras specify that. Still, I can delegate some authority. There has to be cooperation, collaboration. One shouldn’t think of this in terms of using power. The important thing is the result. . . .”

He remains diplomatic regarding the Previn-Fleischmann imbroglio.

“I cannot comment on what happened. I met Previn a few times, like him very much and respect him as a conductor.”

The recent unpleasantness between maestro and management does not make him uncomfortable. “I have not thought in those terms,” he says. “My feeling is, the only thing I can do is work hard. If that is enough, fine. If not--well, I have not planned any strategy.”

Not surprisingly, Salonen says it is premature to ask him about his musical intentions.

“I will now go through the programs from the last 10 years and see what the gaps are. I will see what is needed, program-wise. The actual planning starts now.

“The most urgent consideration is the choice of conductors. It is very important, I think, to keep a close relationship with (principal guest conductor) Simon Rattle. It is important for me--he is a good friend--and it is important for the orchestra and the audience. I want him to continue to do as much as possible.

“One of the nice things about Los Angeles is the list of conductors who appear here on a regular basis--(Pierre) Boulez, (Kurt) Sanderling, (Zubin) Mehta. Not many orchestras in the world can present that sort of list every year. Of course, I will take advantage of this, and try to find the best guest conductors.”

Salonen just conducted a controversial production of Debussy’s “Pelleas” in Florence. He hopes to expand his operatic horizons further while in Los Angeles, he says somewhat enigmatically.

“I am doing more and more opera,” he adds. “This is important to me.”

Salonen calls London home, keeps a flat in Stockholm and likes to hide out in a coastal cottage near Helsinki. Unmarried, he doesn’t know yet where he will live in Los Angeles.

He found the Philharmonic offer seductive, he says--after a smile and a thoughtful pause--for several reasons.

“I like the orchestra very much. There is enormous potential here. This orchestra could be as good as any in the world. I felt that from my first visit (in 1984). I appreciate the flexibility in style and sound that they can produce. There are so many possibilities. . . .”

That noun usually suggests the existence of areas that could be improved. Salonen hedges for a moment.

“Well, I haven’t been here for 1 1/2 years. I’m not sure how the orchestra sounds at the moment. I will probably want to work on the dynamic range. I like pianissimo playing. I value transparency.”

How badly, one asks, did he want to be a music director?

“If I didn’t want it badly,” he answers without missing a beat, “I wouldn’t be here. At first I liked the idea of guest conducting. Then the frustrations got to me--the waste of energy, the inability to achieve the highest musical standards in a short time, the fact that one had to move on just as communication would become fruitful.”

Some observers of the international conducting sweepstakes had feared that the Big Orange might lose Salonen to the Big Apple, where Mehta recently resigned his post with the New York Philharmonic. Salonen denies the possibility.

“There was no offer,” he insists. “There were no negotiations. The rumors were obviously false.” Subject closed.

He doesn’t seem particularly worried about a conflict between his own modernist tendencies--he actually composes when he isn’t conducting--and the conservative preferences of the local audience.

“The Philharmonic has several special series devoted to contemporary music. That is encouraging. I believe in mixing the new and the old. It is important to give a feeling of continuity, to create a historical context for the audiences. There is much more energy if the classical repertory and the avant-garde are performed together. It isn’t the only way. Contemporary concerts are important. But it is a very useful way.”

He flashes a painful smile when reminded that Thursday night subscribers once hooted and walked out when Simon Rattle dared program the Shostakovich 14th.

“That has never happened to me yet,” he says with a sigh. “If it did, I would get very upset emotionally.”

He is not above talking to audiences from the podium, and he approves of pre-performance lectures. “It is good if one can show the audience certain links and directions,” he says.

Salonen has given up his erstwhile ambitions as a horn player, but he hopes to devote at least five months a year to composing. He has no qualms about describing his own music.

“Post-serialism is the starting point, but without rigid mathematics. I am more liberal in approach. I am clearly influenced by some elements in contemporary American music. The minimalist movement isn’t my style, but certain so-called minimalist sounds, certain colors and ways to manipulate music fascinate me.”

He professes various degrees of admiration for John Adams, Terry Riley and Steve Reich. Then comes the dreaded name--Philip Glass.

He shakes his head, squints his eyes. “Not my cup of tea.”

Salonen intends to program a good deal of Scandinavian music during his tenure, especially the much neglected symphonies of Carl Nielsen. But he won’t overlook the domestic product.

“I have to learn a lot about contemporary music in the States,” he says as he prepares for his next appointment. “I have to see what there is. I have to achieve the right balance.”

His name, by the way, is no more daunting than he is. The authentic pronunciation, we are assured, is ESSa-PECKa SALonen--the accent always falling on the first syllable.

Los Angeles will be hearing that name often.