In Search Of a Clear Tone

Every year Myron Yusypovych, the conductor of the K&K Philharmoniker Orchestra, gives at least 40 performances in the most prestigious concert halls of Western Europe: the Munich Philharmonic Hall, Leipzig’s Gewandhaus, Berlin’s Konzerthaus, and Europe’s most prestigious Musikverein in Vienna. The producers invite the Ukrainian musicians back every year quite simply because audiences give them standing ovations at the end of every concert. Every European press review ends with the words: “The audience was enchanted and there was a long standing ovation...The numerous encores were entirely justified as the Ukrainian conductor proved to be an expert on Verdi, whose interpretations have nothing routine or superficial about them.”

These comments from the Mannheimer Morgen and other influential newspapers are ample proof that Maestro Yusypovych’s ideas have become crystallized after many years of touring. Concert tours were the reason for our conversation, which began with an unpleasant incident: Yusypovych had just addressed a meeting in connection with the dismissal of 23 Lviv Philharmonic Society musicians.

Why did you attend a meeting that couldn’t affect your own life in any way?

M.Yu.: Because I know some of the people involved; I respect them as musicians. I also believe that their situation (actually, all Ukrainian musicians are in this situation) is rather complicated. For the last several years the artists of the Lviv Philharmonic Society have been going on concert tours on gentleman’s agreements with the administration. They would tender their resignations, because by law they couldn’t apply for one month of unpaid leave; the limit is two weeks. When they returned, they were supposed to be reinstated in their original jobs. But then a new manager was appointed and he refused to give them back their jobs. The new manager was largely pressured by people who had stayed behind because they had to do their own job and the touring musicians’ jobs in the meantime, and were paid the same monthly salary of 300 hryvnias. In my opinion, a situation in which a musician who performs Stravinsky or Shostakovich, who puts his heart and talent into it and is paid 300 hryvnias, is unthinkable, because this salary can’t supply even basic daily needs.

What about the musicians that are living abroad, who in most cases aren’t even on permanent payroll?

M.Yu.: A good musician works with a prestigious orchestra; he gets the job on a competitive basis. As a rule, he is placed on probation for a year and is then invited to sign a five-year contract. Later, if his professional level remains high, the contract is renewed for another five years, and so on. Also, every such musician is provided with benefits — I mean when he gets sick and needs medical treatment, the company foots the bills. In fact, they have strong trade unions there, something we can only dream of here. However, the point I’d like to stress is that an individual must have encouragement to develop creatively. Our musicians are paid 300 hryvnias a month, whether or not they bother to develop themselves in any way. They come to the Philharmonic Society undernourished and most often see the music they have to perform only during rehearsals. Everywhere else in the world it’s standard practice to supply music half a year before the concert under contract. If not, every musician is perfectly within his right to refuse to perform. My K&K Philharmoniker musicians are always willing to perform an entirely new composition, even before the dress rehearsal. And well they should, because they don’t want to lose their well-paid jobs. In addition, we’re provided with four-star hotel accommodations on concert tours; we are served meals at restaurants. I remember someone suggesting in the beginning that we should opt for cheaper hotel accommodations and that we be paid the difference. Whereupon the owner of the orchestra (I’m just the chief conductor there) explained that it was impossible. An orchestra visiting a city on a concert tour is known to the media; journalists will know where to visit the musicians for interviews, and hotel accommodations reflect the orchestra’s status, the musicians’ self-esteem, and that all this has long-term consequences. I look at my musicians sometimes and find myself pleasantly surprised; they’re all so well-behaved, disciplined; they’re never late for rehearsals, they dress well, but most importantly, they are creatively inspired and truly dedicated. They’re mostly concerned about creative problems rather than housing problems, growing debts for rent, empty refrigerators, or complaining about life being so unjust.

Speaking about justice, they say you are a very fortunate man.

M.Yu.: Believe me, I’ve never had anything bestowed on me like manna. I spent several years mailing resumes, calling producers and orchestra owners. I would travel to meet with them, knock on many doors, and in most cases I was rejected. I was relieved of many posts (mostly because they thought I was “overactive”), but I never gave up the struggle. I became convinced that some people can’t always be lucky and others can’t always be losers. Lady Luck always gives you a chance. The more often you knock on doors, the better your chances. And then you must make the best use of it. Personally, I understand this to mean working hard. By the way, I’m convinced that all of my orchestra musicians work hard not because they expect four-star hotel accommodations, but because they’re best satisfied with their renditions and public appreciation, which is invariably high, regardless of their national affiliation. Two weeks ago Munich’s downtown concert hall, which seats 2,000, hosted Rostropovich’s Russian National Orchestra; the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Mariss Jansons a week ago, followed next week by the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by James Levine. The fact that this kind of audience reacts to the finale of our orchestra with a standing ovation really means something. Performing for this audience — and I believe no other Ukrainian orchestras have appeared before us — is a matter of professional ambition.

The fact that a creative individual is unable to apply his talents in the existing network of Ukrainian state-run music organizations is common knowledge. The point is not the shortage of talents like Oistrakh and Shostakovich, rather the absence of an adequate national strategy-more likely, the absence of a Ukrainian Sol Hurok, the 20th century American super-impresario, or a Semen Albertovich, who was able to promote such projects at the state or private level, with the result that all the musicians worshipped him. We used to have infrastructures like Mosgoskontsert [Moscow State Concert Committee] that would arrange for permanent concert programs, tours, and concert exchanges. Today, we don’t have a single trustworthy agency that would take care of not show business representatives but symphony orchestras or individual classical performers. In this sense we seem to be back in the Stone Age, having to start bonfires with primitive techniques. Most surprisingly, this situation appears to please all kinds of latter-day shamans.

Aren’t you being nostalgic?

M.Yu.: What do you mean nostalgic? I’m outraged by what’s happening; this is driving me to the edge of despair. We’re no longer under imperial Moscow, but our very own Kyiv is strangling us! Before, we would receive subsidies for our performances from Moscow and Lviv, although the difference in salary between the Kirov Company in Leningrad and the Lviv Opera was 2-2.5 times. Do you know the difference between the Kyiv and Lviv companies now? It’s tenfold! And this tenfold ratio can be projected on all creative and private aspects. That’s why the existing national cultural policy has served to bring cities like Lviv down to the provincial level. I’d like to emphasize this now that we have a new government, when a different kind of personnel will be assigned to executive posts. I want all these people to consider all our problems, so that we can avert our cultural decline, so that the presence of creative potential will once again become a matter of national prestige.

After his inauguration, Viktor Yushchenko appeared on the Maidan and promised that he would tend the orchard of Ukrainian culture. I can only hope that people will be assigned key posts in the cultural domain according to the following three principles: (a) decency, (b) professional level, and (c) patriotism. I also hope that party affiliation won’t become the final, crucial qualification. Let me tell you something. I know a man who got his post owing to the Social Democrats (and he wasn’t a member of the party), but they believed that they now had their man upstairs, even though they realized he wasn’t their best option. Can this approach benefit Ukrainian culture? Isn’t it better to show wisdom when dealing with any case that may arise, considering a given protОgО‘s personal capacities and ambitions, and also proceeding from concrete achievements of the past?

I regret to say that some of the problems facing Ukraine stem from the fact that a positive process is being interrupted, and this is a widespread phenomenon. I don’t mean all those who are submerged in the morass of corruption: what kind of positive response can one expect from them? I mean all those people who don’t know how to bow and scrape before the government, just so they can keep building their careers. By the way, that was why I refused to become a member of the Soviet Communist Party and then decided against Rukh membership: because I’d seen too many such examples. Today, I’m talking about the intelligentsia, all those people who quietly go about their jobs, without any breast-beating. Very often these are the very people that suffer. They are allowed to work on a project; they bring it to a certain level of efficiency, and then find themselves dumped, whereupon the process starts all over again.

I’m saying all this without being afraid of anyone breathing down my neck, without expecting anyone upstairs will remember my words and get even with me later. That’s exactly why I’m sure I’ll never lose any of my positions, because they are all determined by my audiences — among them people who sit and check every bar of my music against the musical score. You can’t lie your way out of that or protect yourself with all sorts of loud speeches or titles.

You could have emigrated from Ukraine a hundred times over, but you return to Lviv every time.

M.Yu.: A compact disk was recorded during our concert at the Munich Philharmonic Hall, which seats 2,500 people. This CD is on sale in all European music stores. After playing the master disk, I had tears in my eyes. You know why? Because it starts with the overture of Lysenko’s opera Taras Bulba, with the choir singing Za svit vstaly kozachenky [The Cossacks Rose Before Dawn]. Now this particular number has always had encores. I might as well point out that we had to fight a bit to introduce this particular number in the Best Operatic Choirs project. In our case, after we performed this song, the audience was ecstatic. I was spectacularly gratified, of course. That was what you call a unique and unforgettable experience. Imagine our choir performing our beloved national music after the audience in that beautiful white and gold hall heard Wagner, Verdi, and Bizet. The audience couldn’t understand what kind of music was being performed or the language of the songs. But after the final chord, all of them stood up and applauded. Now I think you understand why I live in Lviv.

You’re flying to Berlin tomorrow, aren’t you?

M.Yu.: Yes, but that’s how a musician should live. A musician must share his art with people. By the way, we’re going on concert tours with an excellent choir and I’m proud to say I was involved in the arrangements.

This is the work of the Da Capo music agency. One ought to pay more attention to its activities.

M.Yu.: There’s no denying that the Da Capo agency is setting a brilliant example for Ukraine, but it’s no panacea. Other agencies can and should be created, along different conceptual lines. The Austrian agency that manages our orchestra is sure we’ll measure up. They have allowed 70 Ukrainian musicians to evolve creatively and enjoy normal living conditions — not at the expense of the state budget, but by contributing to it, paying taxes. Is this so bad? Also, every poster states that the group is made up of Ukrainian performers. We’re based in Lviv, but our performers live in eight different cities. They were all selected on a competitive basis, so they want to keep their jobs. Otherwise these musicians would long ago have left Ukraine.

Is it true that at one time you were a performer and a music agent rolled into one?

M.Yu.: I was and it was a very difficult task. A creative individual needs constant training — music in my case, something pleasing to his heart. But there is also the need to negotiate business deals in several languages, receive fax messages, browse the Internet for several hours a day, and take care of photos and press releases. I have to communicate with different people; I have to know how to sell myself. But I want to do something I know best: conducting an orchestra.

In other words, taking care of oneself at this level isn’t a solution to the problem. Another approach should be found.

M.Yu.: Somehow everyone seems to be struggling to obtain national status in Ukraine these days. Of course, this means a little pay increase, but it doesn’t change the overall situation. The same singer, working for what is now a national company, will have to sing a role in Rigoletto for the 200th or 250th time, going through the same motions. But that singer could try taking part in new productions, conquering new audiences, which means going on numerous trips and working with new stage directors and conductors. Back in 1994, when I was a young conductor of the Lviv Opera Orchestra, I sent a package of proposals to the authorities, describing a new concept of theatrical life. I thought that things would change for the better quickly. It didn’t work. One of my proposals read that there should be five opera houses in Ukraine and a state or private authority to supervise them, helping them get fresh talent. Singers and dancers should be free to perform on any stage, anywhere, employment contracts notwithstanding. The same should apply to stage directors and conductors. Other clauses dealt with joint projects to be undertaken by Ukrainian opera houses, so that wardrobe and stage props could be used by every contractual party, so all that each party would have to be concerned with would be music and casting, with the soloists free to perform anywhere. That way money could be saved and many more productions staged every season. Most importantly, this pattern would be more appealing to audiences. After all, that’s what we are supposed to be working for. This practice has long been established elsewhere in the world, particularly in the industrialized countries, where every cent is spent and duly accounted for. We continue to rely on budget appropriations, showing a very low budget return ratio.

The overall situation with academic music in Ukraine reminds me of a superb old violin that hasn’t been tuned in years, so playing it is painful to a true musician’s ear. Such an instrument has to be tuned before it can be played in public. Yet the past decade has shown that most tuners don’t even know how to adjust the pegs. Here the initiative must come from practitioners, people who are genuinely interested in changing things for the better. My gut feeling says that this will indeed happen, that the violin of Ukrainian musical culture will be perfectly tuned for the whole world to hear.