High-voltage Haitink recalled

Norman Lebrecht

WATCHING BERNARD HAITINK from the choir seats behind the orchestra at London’s Royal Festival Hall, I received free masterclasses over several years in the art and practice of conducting. Haitink would come on stage, bald pate sheened with sweat, and after a glance around the musicians get straight to business. Hands, eyes and lips in perpetual motion, the rest of him quite still. What ensued was a revivalist miracle. A bunch of musicians who had been working non-stop since nine in the morning and might not get home before midnight, had their fatigue dispelled by the kind of leadership normally seen on the battlefield. What Haitink did, repeatedly before my eyes, was to relieve performers of accumulated stress and allow them room to breathe. I was aware I was watching…

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The Critic (Digital) - 1 Issue, December 2021

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