A fine balance – an interview with Kazushi Ono

Kazushi Ono conducts Der fliegende Holländer at Hamburg State Opera this month, and later in the year, Rusalka at Opéra national de Paris and Elektra for New National Theatre, Tokyo. Beginning a year so full of opera, he tells us about his approach to balancing scores and remembers sneaking into a rehearsal of Carlos Kleiber

Compared with studying symphonies, opera takes a lot of time to bring into one’s repertoire. I start the process not with the music, but reading the origin story of the opera. After that I look at the libretto, and only then do I come to the music. These different phases take time, but it’s important to understand the deep significance of each work. You must have your ideal sound image in your mind before you can stand in front of the orchestra. 

At the first orchestral rehearsals, I sing the soloists’ parts – not all of them all the time, but the important phrases, so the orchestra can hear them. That’s when we set the tempos. If they’re different when the singers come into the rehearsal room, that’s my responsibility. That’s why the first rehearsal with the orchestra is very important. When the soloists and chorus join in, and the orchestra already knows the tempo and we’re all listening to each other, that’s the first time I can be happy – knowing the tempo works! Once I have said what I need to the orchestra, I don’t need to talk so much, and from then I just listen to the orchestra, singers and choir.

The conductor’s job is to create a good balance between the singers and the orchestra, especially in the important moments. The best opera composers have thought out this balance very carefully. There are so many different sound combinations, between the singers, chorus and orchestra – so many different worlds. For example, the soprano might be singing in piano and legato, while the orchestra is playing something punctuated and loud, and you have to provide space for all these sounds. At other times, the orchestra is like a carpet for the soloists. The singers’ voices should always reach the audience, even if the orchestral parts are dense. The orchestra has to listen to the singers, and that is the work of the conductor. 

The next stage is when we go into the theatre, which can be tough. Everything can be right with the music and work perfectly between the singers, chorus and orchestra, but the director tells the soprano to go to the left side of the stage, for example, and everything suddenly changes.

Orchestra pits often have bad light, so the players can’t always see my eyes, and the brass section feels far away. If we can’t see each other’s eyes, I must have the conviction that they can see me and my baton anyway. That way we can play together and remember how we rehearsed in the hall, which transmits to the audience. Sometimes the singers and chorus are at the side of the stage, and have to watch me in the monitor, so I show my hands a little higher than usual, with more movement, and more expressively. 

I learnt a lot about conducting opera from Wolfgang Sawallisch and Giuseppe Patanè at Bavarian State Opera in Munich. Sawallisch was a giant and I had huge respect for him. He knew so much repertoire by memory: Wagner, Strauss, Beethoven, Brahms – and he was also very good at French music. His interpretations were very logical. I also remember watching him rehearse the opening phrase of Beethoven’s ‘Pastoral’ Symphony. He told the violins, ‘You come from the city, and you’re seeing nature for the first time and feel this new breath.’ As soon as he said that the violins played it with space before the first note. I’ll never forget that. These sorts of images are very useful for conductors and I’m always thinking of expressions that introduce difficult music to the orchestra – or simple music which they have somehow played too many times.

Carlos Kleiber often conducted when I was studying in Munich. He didn’t allow young conductors to watch his rehearsals, but once I sneaked quietly into the rehearsal hall and crouched down behind a chair to see how he rehearsed. It was a wonderful experience, even though I had shoulder ache by the end. He found me out, though, and made a loud clicking noise with his mouth as a sign for me to leave. I can still hear that unforgettable sound!

Unlike other conductors, Kleiber spoke a sort of poem to the orchestra at the start of the rehearsal – something about the sun rising and a big black cloud, for example. He spoke quietly and slowly, and very clearly. He didn’t really beat on the down-beat. His line of conducting was more of a wave, mainly conducting the nuances. The orchestra comes into the circle of his arms, so you can’t tell that this is where the trumpet starts or the violin starts: everything is rounded and very special. 

This interview was first published on the Maestro Arts website.

Der Fliegende Holländer at Hamburg State Opera (13 to 30 January) Rusalka at Opéra national de Paris (2 to 20 May) Elektra for New National Theatre, Tokyo (29 June to 12 July)