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.
Despite the departure of the Washington National Opera, multiple cancellations by high-profile artists, and diminishing attendance, the Kennedy Center is claiming success. How is this possible?
We measure accomplishment in two separate but related ways. The board says they have met the center’s fiscal goals and that everything is fine. However, attendance is at an all-time low. If you go to the Kennedy Center website, it is easy to ascertain how few performances there are these days.
The National Symphony Orchestra continues to play, but with stars such as Béla Fleck, Renée Fleming, and Philip Glass cancelling their scheduled performances, ticketholders may choose to opt out as well.
There are a couple of points to keep in mind amid this crescendo of departures. First, the NSO is a separate institution with its own board. However, it is also under the umbrella of the Kennedy Center, which helps defray costs by providing the concert hall for rehearsals and performances, office space, and more. The orchestra is basically in residence for the whole year.
This is unlike the Washington National Opera, which was only a tenant on a part-time basis. Moreover, the orchestra that performs with the opera company is run entirely by the Kennedy Center. When they are not playing Mozart or Puccini, you can hear them with ballet companies and in touring productions. At this time, it is not clear what ensemble will be in the pit for the opera company’s performances this spring at Lisner Auditorium.
At the moment, I cannot foresee any best-case scenarios as we move through the remainder of the season, but I can easily think of the worst-case outcomes. I have my own theories about what might happen, but they change constantly. Trying to imagine what my good friends at the NSO must think and feel each time they enter the building weighs heavily on me.
Perhaps, once they get onstage, they can immerse themselves in the glories of the music being rehearsed and performed. Just as we musicians can transport the audience away from the turbulence of a very troubled world, we can also escape into what others have created and bring the notes on the page to life. Individually, these musicians will be fine, no matter the eventual result of the Kennedy Center turmoil. Collectively, I am not so certain.
My January activities saw one endeavor inch toward an end and another begin. For the past two seasons, I have served as artistic advisor to the Las Vegas Philharmonic, which recently announced the appointment of Rei Hotoda as their new music director beginning in July. Among my final tasks was to lead one more performance. With a full house, the orchestra was inspired to give wonderful renditions of music by Beethoven, Beal, and Rachmaninoff.
The Egmont Overture showed the musicians in great form. The ensemble was as tight and controlled as one could hope for in this tragic yet heroic opening piece. Jeff Beal wrote a symphony for my eightieth birthday and, after its September premiere in Los Angeles, we brought it to Sin City. Featuring portraits of Hollywood, my family, and me, the work sparkled with a variety of colors.
Jeff was on hand, as was Olga Kern, who played her signature Rach 3 with energy as well as poetry. We have performed this piece together often, so even though she brought some new ideas, we were always on the same wavelength. Olga played as if she had won a couple of thousand dollars at the blackjack table. Everyone leapt to their feet at the conclusion, and the two of us exchanged knowing glances. We knew we had done well.
With that job coming to an end, I began a similar undertaking in Nashville, which, like Las Vegas, has a vibrant entertainment industry. Twenty years ago, I jumped in to inaugurate the Schermerhorn Center after the conductor of the Nashville Symphony passed away. I became their music advisor for a couple of years, and we had marvelous experiences together.
Today, they are once again searching for a music director. Alan Valentine, the orchestra’s longtime CEO, will be retiring as well, so major changes lie ahead. I will spend the next three years advising them and conducting for several weeks each season while the hunt for their next leader continues.
The Nashville Symphony is a great band, and their hall is spectacular. I envision so many possibilities for a bright future. My appointment was made well after the current season was in place, but we felt I should conduct at least one program during this transition time. I thought a trip down memory lane, highlighting my Hollywood background, might be a nice way to reintroduce myself to NashVegas, as it is sometimes called. We played movie music by Korngold, Herrmann, Newman, Rosza, Goldsmith, and Mancini, as well as a second half featuring living film composers, offering plenty of variety for the orchestra to show off its chops.
I told stories, did some shtick, and had a ball. At the end of the concert, I encouraged the audience to take out their phones and either record the encore or take selfies to post on social media, thereby reaching people who could not attend. The orchestra graciously allowed this break from the typical protocols prohibiting recording devices, and we certainly made a lot of new friends. I think it is precisely these kinds of gestures that will help expand audiences during the next part of the 21st century.
This renewed relationship also allows me to finally scale back my travels. With that long Asian journey and an even longer one coming up in Europe, I think it is time to relax the schedule. Nashville is just an hour’s flight away from St. Louis or a four-hour-plus drive. If I were about twenty years younger, I would have considered moving to Tennessee, but it is time to stop lifting boxes. I will say more about what we are hoping to accomplish when I next write to all of you.
I had one more stop to make in January.
It had been a long time since I last appeared in Atlanta. After dodging snowstorms, somehow, I managed to get there on schedule. The orchestra is in the midst of celebrating the 250th anniversary of the country’s independence, so an all-American program was certainly appropriate.
What work represents the symphonic end of the musical spectrum better than Copland’s magisterial Third? I never tire of the composer’s inventiveness and capacity to find just the right balance of rural and urban environments in this piece. The orchestra was already familiar with its nuances, having played it regularly under former music director Robert Spano. It is very heartening to see it programmed more frequently in the concert hall these days.
My soloist was Randall Goosby, a violinist whom I had not worked with before. His vehicle was the now-standard Barber concerto. As with the Copland, there was a time when this piece was rarely performed. Today, virtually every major soloist plays it on a regular basis.
Just beginning to make the rounds is my own Schubertiade. It provided a contrast to the fireworks and messages of the other two pieces. Strangely, this is the piece that I have conducted the least, so I am just getting to know my own composition from the standpoint of the conductor’s podium. I will lead a few more performances of it in Europe later this season.
Like most of us, I am tremendously upset with what is occurring in Minneapolis and spreading throughout the country. It is a dark time in America, but musicians can at least bring rays of light. Back in the Sixties, music led the path of protest. Perhaps it is time to ask our performers to speak through their art once again.
We will not be silenced.
See you next month,
Leonard