Home | Business News | Browse by Publication | C | Czech Music

Zdenek Macal: the hardest thing is to make the right decision at the right time.

Article Excerpt
Zdenek Macal (b. 1936)--today a citizen of the United States--studied at the Brno Conservatoire and the Janacek Academy of Music in his native Brno. He first began to make a name for himself when he won two important music competitions: the International Conducting Competition in Besancon in 1965 and the Dmitri Mitropoulos Competition in New York in 1966, whose jury was chaired by Leonard Bernstein. After the Soviet occupation of Czechoslovakia, Zdenek Macal emigrated and immediately became involved in the international music scene. From the 2003-2004 season, he is Chief Conductor of the Czech Philharmonic.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

What have your returns home been like since 1989?

Always pleasurable. In the mid-nineties I was invited to conduct the Czech Philharmonic, and then appointed as principal conductor, but I actually first worked with the Philharmonic in 1965, and it's an orchestra that continues to play an important role in my life. Perhaps the word "returns" isn't quite right, and it would be better to talk of the continuation of a journey, a continuation of our work together, even if with longer or shorter intervals.

When you first stood on the podium in the Rudolfinum after so many years, was it a moving experience?

It's hard to say, because I have moving experiences several times a day. I often feel an internal thrill, and it doesn't have to be just on the podium. For instance when I look out of the window of my office in the Rudolfinum and see Hradcany lit up by the sun, or when I'm walking down a street that appeals to me, I'm usually moved too.

A recently broadcast television portrait of you was called "Between Heaven and Earth". Why?

You know, when I stand in front of an orchestra I often genuinely feel as if I were between heaven and earth. At that moment I'm not even aware of standing on a podium; it's as if I am vanishing somewhere, internally dissolving into the space. What is flowing between my hands is just music. And it is as if I am forming the symphony with these hands and trying to be spiritually as close as possible to the composer who wrote it, I converse with it. At that moment it is the only important thing--this dialogue, and the music that flows. I lose the sense of my own personality. I find myself in some other place, most probably up on high. It's hard to describe but it's a fascinating feeling.

How do you manage to be alert to the players in front of you?

It's interesting, but I'm perfectly alert to them. If there is a problem, if something happens like an instrument not making an entry on time, it brings me back in a fraction of a second. Otherwise when I'm conducting I usually have my eyes closed and I don't let anything disturb me, but in case of need I'm immediately back on earth, looking at the player and giving him his entry. It's remarkable how quickly the brain can react when it has to, how precisely it works. Before I make a single movement of the baton at least three possible ways of tackling the situation have flown through my head and I have immediately chosen the best. If I didn't know it from experience, I would find it hard to imagine...

View this article FREE - Now for a Limited Time, try Goliath Business News
Free for 3 Days!