Reykjavík Grapevine - 03.02.2012, Side 16
LighTiNg A FiRe
UNdeR
The ORChesTRA
By Anna Andersen
Photography by Baldur Kristjáns
After an exhilarating performance of Giacinto Scelsi’s ‘Hymnos,’
the conductor turns to the audience
and tells us that because we will prob-
ably never hear the piece performed
again, we should pick a new spot in
the hall and they will do it one more
time. He turns back around again,
and the audience shuff les to their
new seats to experience an acousti-
cally variant take two.
I make my way up to the second
f loor balcony of Harpa’s Eldborg Hall
and find a seat behind the orchestra
with a rare view of the conductor in
action. Ilan Volkov is Iceland Sym-
phony Orchestra’s new conductor
and music director. The thirty-four
year old from Israel began working as
a conductor at the early age of nine-
teen and became the youngest con-
ductor of a BBC symphony orchestra
at twenty-seven.
From my new seat, I feel the or-
gan vibrating and I hear fidgeting
that the composer probably did not
intend for me to hear, but the experi-
ence is altogether enlightening. Ilan
thrusts his baton violently in one di-
rection, while he glances in another,
and motions in yet another. As the piece
becomes more intense, he even opens
his mouth as if to let out a big roar over
the musicians.
In many ways it is readily apparent
that Ilan is not your typical orchestra
conductor. But sensing that he has a
whole lot more than a game of musical
chairs up his sleeve, we meet up with
him to chat about his philosophies, his
ideas for the orchestra, and his plans
to collaborate with local composers,
musicians and artists, not to mention,
the new modern music festival he is
launching this March on John Cage’s
centennial anniversary.
It’s a short walk from The Grapevine of-
fices to Harpa, where I will be meeting
Ilan Volkov this afternoon. I had been
told that his schedule would be tight as
he is only in the country for a week and,
as we sit down, I notice that he hasn’t
had time to eat the sandwich on the cof-
fee table in front of him. Ilan begins his
story by telling me that his father was a
musician. He recounts his early expo-
sure to music, beginning with the vio-
lin and piano at an early age. His formal
education in conducting began when he
was thirteen, and by seventeen, he says
conducting had become his passion. At
nineteen, fresh out of school in London,
Ilan took on his first conducting job in
Newcastle.
“But conducting is not really some-
thing you can go to school and learn,”
he says, “you have to learn a lot of it on
your own. You learn repertoire, history
of music, and theory—it’s a big field
of stuff—at school, but you also have
to learn how to work with a group and
this comes with experience. It takes a
while to realise what you have to do, psy-
chologically and physically. You need to
understand what you’re doing and why
you’re doing it, and then how to criticise
yourself, to make sure you know if you
do something wrong.”
But what exactly does a conductor’s
job entail? This is mystifying to most of
us who see little more than the conduc-
tor’s back. Surely it’s more than waving
a baton at a group of musicians.
The conductor demystified
“It’s a variety of things,” he says. “It’s
an organisational role of directing a big
bunch of people who sit quite far from
one another and lack an overall picture
of what’s going on.” This, he says, can
be divided into the practical element of
making sure that the orchestra starts
and finishes together, and the spiri-
tual element of guiding and motivat-
ing a big group, which is accomplished
through talking, and a lot of gestures.
He compares the role of a conductor
to that of a choreographer or a director,
noting similarities in their jobs. “But
the conductor differs in that conducting
is a physical thing done in real time,”
he says. “The conductor does a lot of
things that are unspoken, that even the
orchestra doesn’t really realise because
there is a lot happening at the same
time—the brain is working full time.”
Nonetheless, he doesn’t consider
the conductor to be like the striker of
a football team. “Part of the problem is
that perceptually there appears to be a
hierarchy, the conductor is big in the
picture, but still part of the group and
most of the responsibility lies with the
musicians,” he says. “Even if you do a
good job conducting, if the musicians
don’t play well, it won’t happen. There is
a lot of psychology involved. You have to
be humble in what you’re doing, even if
you’re convinced that you are right. You
have to understand the difficulties that
others are having because without their
will to do it, nothing will work. You’re
dealing with a lot of individuals, and
each of them can have a bad day.”
I ask him if it isn’t difficult to come
in and conduct a new orchestra com-
posed of a large group of people that
he doesn’t know very well. “When you
go to a new group you have to convince
them that you know what you are talk-
ing about,” he says. “It takes time.”
Despite being only twenty-seven
when he was appointed chief conduc-
tor of the BBC Scottish Symphony—the
youngest chief conductor appointed to
a BBC Orchestra—Ilan was able to con-
vince the orchestra that he knew what
he was talking about and he says they
didn’t mind his young age. He tells me
that he looks forward to continuing to
work with them as their Principle Guest
Conductor. “This is quite rare after you
finish your contract,” he says. Usually
a conductor packs their bags and says
thanks very much, see you in ten years.
For me it’s nice to keep a relationship
with them. There is a lot about trust and
respect. It’s a nice feeling.”
“The
establishment’s
role is always to
object. But the
artists and free-
thinkers need
to ignore all
of this bullshit
completely and
try to over-
come it”