I'm not sure what I ate...

My thoughts that I was becoming a pro at beating jet lag were apparently somewhat hasty. I forced myself to stay up until 9 pm last night and went to bed exhausted, thinking that surely I would sleep through the night. I woke up feeling pretty good, only it was just 1 am, not 7 as I had hoped. A little reading of the terribly boring book I brought put me back to sleep until 3, when I again awoke, did some studying and was able to get a couple more hours before rising for breakfast (of course at that point feeling like I could have slept another 4-5 hours).

The breakfast provided by the hotel is quite a spread. Unfortunately most of the spread was unrecognizable to me. I was adventurous and tried a lot of different things, although I still have no idea what some of them were. Perhaps instead of bringing a phrase book (which I've found I don't really need) I should have looked to purchase a food dictionary. It's not that I've never eaten food from this region of the world, but I didn't see any falafel in sight.

My drivier, Haim, picked me up promptly at the appointed time and drove me to the hall. The Henry Crown Hall is part of the Jerusalem Performing Arts Center (http://www.jerusalem-theatre.co.il/about_en.asp), about a 10 minute drive from the hotel. Passing through a high security gate and into the parking lot you find a stage door leading to a labrynth of hallways, stairs and elevators. Fortunately a representative from the orchestra met me at the stage door and led me to my dressing room, which has a nice grand piano and huge windows with a beautiful view of the new city (I'll try and post a picture tomorrow).


I requested to meet the concertmaster before the beginning of rehearsal; He is a Curtis graduate named Daniel, who I later found out is also a conductor and spent some time studying with Jorma Panula, perhaps the most famous conducting teacher in the world. Fortunately I didn't find this out until later, I think it would have made me really nervous.

Another person from management appeared to lead me to the stage (which is good, because I was already lost), where they started with a few words about another demonstration they're planning in regards to the budget cuts by the government, which has caused an uproar and threatened the existence of the orchestra (http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1181570259406&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull).

Before I get into more detail, the program I'm conducting here is:

Berwald - Overture to Estrella de Soria
Sibelius - Symphony No. 7
Nielsen - Symphony No. 4 "The Inextinguishable"

I began with the Berwald overture, reading straight through and rehearsing a few spots before moving on to Sibelius. I was very anxious about the Sibelius as it's one of those pieces that's difficult (for a young conductor like me anway) to predice how things will feel with the orchestra. There are many choices to be made about what you actually need to be beating at any given time. The piece starts in 3/2, with the composer specifying the quarter note as the beat, but very soon evolves into a situation where you have to start conducting larger note values to not inhibit the line (or drive yourself and the orchestra crazy).

We read through the entire symphony stopping only a few times to clarify some basics of tempo and pulse, and I had a little time to rehearse before the break. During the break Daniel and I talked a lot about various sections in the Sibelius and he had some enormously helpful suggestions (he studied the piece at length with Panula). He mostly encouraged me to trust the orchestra more and not feel like I had to bear all the weight, which too easily can actually inhibit the orchestra. I'm quickly finding this to be one of the chief differences between symphonic and opera conducting. In a symphonic situation they simply don't need you as much, or perhaps better to say that they need you in a different way than an an opera orchestra and singers.

I had originally planned to only rehearse the Berwald and Sibelius today, but last week changed my mind and decided it wise to at least read the Nielsen. This hunch happened to work out well as the Nielsen is the least familiar to the orchestra, and many of them were pretty anxious about getting it going. It's not only technically difficult to play but also to put together as an ensemble. The type of piece where inattention to things like articulations will lead to a loss of inner pulse and certain disaster. The only mishap in the reading was when at one point (after the first tutti climax where the entire orchestra is marked triple forte) the principal flutist decided he would take it upon himself to tell the brass they were overwhelming. This turned into a little battle of raised voices (of course I didn't understand a word). I let them have it out for about ten seconds or so, then reclaimed control and started the next movement.

After reading the Nielsen I had about ten minutes left and I let them go. It wasn't enough time to really begin properly tearing the piece apart, and of course it helps to build a little goodwill right off the bat. Some of the players introduced themselves (or at least came up and shook hands) and one violinist offered to take me around to some of the sites after tomorrow's rehearsal.

Returning to the hotel, I'm a little overwhelmed with all that I must accomplish with this program. Perhaps that was the downside of reading the Nielsen instead of spending the rest of the rehearsal on the Sibelius, you're left with an overwhelming feeling of outstanding things that must be worked out. It's also just that first time with an orchestra where you have to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses and how you will work together.

I was hoping to get out in the city a bit today, but will first do some studying and see where that leaves me. Better to feel great entering tomorrow's rehearsal, and since this city has been around for a while I think it will still be here tomorrow.