Rehearsals should be open to a few changes
Every so often the Boston Symphony Orchestra's open rehearsals stir up a bit of controversy, and always for the same reason. Some people get riled up when a conductor actually stops and starts to polish details and get things right -- although the events are always described as working rehearsals or ''concerts in the making" in the BSO's promotional materials.
Some conductors use open rehearsals as a final run-through or dress rehearsal, which is what some members of the public buy their tickets to get -- a quasi-concert, but at a bargain price. Others want to observe how a conductor works with the music and the musicians.
Back in the 1960s, when Erich Leinsdorf was music director, an audience showed up expecting to hear soprano Leontyne Price sing the final scene from Strauss's ''Salome," which she understandably didn't want to do in the context of the real concerts and recording sessions coming up. She agreed to sing a brief aria from Strauss's ''Die Aegyptische Helena" and then went home to rest.
What the public got instead of the ''Salome" scene were two successive rehearsals of the Schoenberg Violin Concerto with Joseph Silverstein as soloist. And what Symphony Hall got was a stampede for the doors when Leinsdorf announced the repeat.
Later, in 1987, an audience grew so irritated at Simon Rattle's meticulous attention to detail in Stravinsky's ''Petrouchka" and Schoenberg's Five Orchestral Pieces that they openly booed the conductor.
Nothing like that happened at James Levine's first open rehearsal as music director last week. But he did spend nearly two hours working on details in the last two movements of Elliott Carter's ''Symphonia," and the BSO management later received several letters of complaint. In the hall, the audience listened attentively and applauded politely at the end; only a few people waited out the Carter in the lobbies until the stage was reset for Beethoven's ''Eroica" Symphony.
Understandably, neither the music director nor the orchestra wanted open rehearsals during preparations for his first three programs; this was a sensitive period when everyone was intent on developing a new working relationship. Perhaps the Carter week wasn't the ideal place to begin, because the piece is long and difficult, and the BSO and Levine have performed only the first movement of it before, the ''Partita." It wasn't an accident that the one movement Levine played through without interruption at the rehearsal was the ''Partita."
To this listener, perched close enough to the stage to hear what Levine was saying, it was an enthralling experience. He had the piece down cold and heard everything the players were doing. Lying behind what he said there had to be a clear conception of what he believes the music is about, and of what he wanted to hear, but he didn't speak about those things, at least at this final rehearsal the morning of the concert.
Instead he drew from a deep well of practical experience. He never said anything negative to anyone; essentially he said the same thing over and over again: ''If you do this, that will happen." The ''this" was usually something technical -- bringing out the middle note of a chord, for example, or attacking a note strongly, then immediately pulling back. The ''that" was the musical effect that results.
The same process was at work in the ''Eroica," where Levine's approach differed from what the BSO is used to; he was after a new intensity of articulation and at faster speeds. He also seemed particularly attentive to endings, presumably because these leave the last impression. He asked the musicians to repeat the final chord of the ''Eroica." ''Not down, but out" is how he described what he wanted to the orchestra.
Each conductor responds differently to the open rehearsal dynamic, and conductors who do them often vary their strategies, according to the pieces on the program and what has been achieved in earlier stages of the rehearsal process. Seiji Ozawa often chose the run-through approach, but he also stopped and worked when he found it necessary. It will be interesting to see what Levine does at his next open rehearsal Dec. 2, when the entire program is Berlioz's ''Romeo et Juliette."
That said, both Levine and the BSO could do a couple of things to make the situation a little more welcoming to the public. If Levine and the orchestra need to rehearse in detail, which is not only their prerogative but their responsibility, it would be a courtesy to give the conductor a small, clip-on microphone so that more people in the hall could follow what he is doing, know why he is stopping, and immediately hear whether he has achieved what he was asking for.
If people could hear better, there would be less irritation. The atmosphere is casual -- conductor and orchestra are in everyday dress -- so there is no need for the full concert protocol of applause and bows. But it would be nice if the conductor could break down the invisible wall at the end and acknowledge the interest and contribution of the audience with a wave or a thank-you.
