We made it! Somehow, we managed to get through 2025 and are heading into the New Year with hopes that may or may not be dashed by the many variables in our lives now. But at least for this musician, the year ended on several notes of optimism contained within the piece I led in Tokyo.

The month started off in a city that I had never heard of, much less conducted in. Takasaki is located in the Gunma Prefecture, about an hour’s train ride from Tokyo Station. The Gunma Symphony Orchestra was kind enough to ask me to be part of its eightieth anniversary celebrations.

Following the seven-week Asian tour of the past year, 2026 started off calmly. I was at home for a while, recuperating from jet lag and getting used to winter weather. For those of us from Los Angeles, this is no easy task.

As the month progressed, the news from Washington kept piling up. My colleagues at the Kennedy Center could not have truly anticipated how the transformation would disrupt their lives to the extent it has. I don’t want to dwell on this too much here. You all know what is going on.

Not much happened in February. Oh, wait. There were a couple of things.

Let’s start with the announcement of my new position as music director of the Nashville Symphony. This past summer, I was named artistic advisor, but as we reviewed the scope of the ensemble’s activities in Music City, it became clear that a more active role for me was needed.

Wars, interminable lines at airports, unbearable heat in the West, continued chaos at the Kennedy Center, and so much more. What can we do to alleviate some of this tension? And how fortunate are some of us to be able to bring solace and comfort through music?

March turned out to be an extraordinary month full of wonderful surprises and memorable moments. At first, I was dreading this nine-week European tour without a meaningful break between engagements. The trip comprises eight countries and seven different languages, if you count the Scottish dialect. Fortunately, I am giving repeat performances of several works over this timeframe and only conducting two pieces that are new to me.

Seven countries, seven languages, and ten cities. This nine-week European concert tour has been both exhausting and exhilarating.

April came right in the middle of the trip. With Glasgow up first, I was going to see an orchestra I first conducted in 1975. It was an all-French affair with the concertmaster Michael Davis playing Chausson and Ravel. Michael served in the same position when I was Chief Conductor of the BBC Symphony in London.

It is that time of year when concert seasons are winding down, and we take a bit of time to get ready for summer activities. May was one of the most exhilarating months I could have ever imagined, and not all the events were about conducting.

The last two weeks of the very long European tour finally arrived. In Las Palmas, Gran Canaria, I was not quite sure what to expect with a truly difficult program. Since we had six rehearsals, Music Director Karel Mark Chichon and I had decided to really challenge the orchestra.

If one pattern has defined my life in music, it is movement. I have never been very good at standing still. I have not taken what most people would call a sabbatical, and even my vacations have tended to come in pieces—days borrowed between engagements, or longer trips planned with the hope of disappearing, briefly, into someplace unfamiliar.

June felt unusual from the start. For the first time in a very long while, an entire month stretched before me without a single concert. After seven weeks in Asia at the end of 2025 and another nine in Europe earlier this year, I could no longer pretend that rest was optional. I was tired in the way travel and performance can make one tired—not only in body but in mind and spirit as well.