2002 Tanglewood reviews

Seiji Ozawa photos Tanglewood July 12, 2002

February 2, 2016 Article by Dave Read
Now that Seiji Ozawa hass been added to the 2016 Tanglewood schedule, here is another look at photos from Maestro Ozawa’s 2002 Tanglewood farewell press conference.

On Friday afternoon July 12, 2002, at the start of a weekend of special programs in celebration of his 29 year tenure with the BSO, Maestro Ozawa met with the press just outside the Koussevitsky Music Shed, where these photos were taken. By the 2002 season, he was music director emeritus; his last concert at Tanglewood as music director was Salome on Aug. 8, 2001.

Seiji Ozawa’s Tanglewood farewell press conference, July 12, 2002; photos by Dave Conlin Read.

2016 Tanglewood tickets

Tickets for the 2016 Tanglewood season, $12-$124, go on sale January 24 starting at 10 a.m. through Tanglewood’s website, www.tanglewood.org, SymphonyCharge at 888-266-1200, and at the Symphony Hall Box Office at 301 Massachusetts Avenue, Boston MA. Tanglewood brochures with complete programs and information on how to order tickets will be available in early February by calling 617-638-9467. For further information, please call the Boston Symphony Orchestra at 617-266-1492 or visit www.tanglewood.org. 2016 Tanglewood schedule – PDF.

Tanglewood grounds map

Here is a dynamic map of the Tanglewood grounds, with photos and information for such points of interest as Aaron Copland Library, Highwood Manor House, The Glass House, and The Lion’s Gate.

How to get to the Berkshires

Follow this link for Berkshires travel information, including public transportation within Berkshire county and Amtrak and Peter Pan bus schedules.

Seiji Ozawa’s Tanglewood farewell press conference

July 15, 2002 article by Dave Read

Maestro Ozawa’s opening remarks:

My private thoughts – its kind of rare in my profession, 1960, July, I came from Paris to Boston airport, on Pan American, first time in my life to come to America. And then I took autobus from there to Lenox, to join this school here, so – 1960, which is 42 years ago, I came here as a student, and to me, my kind of study in Japan with my great teacher, Professor Hideo Seiko, who was a wonderful teacher but kind of focused on areas like ear training, score reading and how to conduct Bach, how to conduct Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, and some Tchaikovsky and never go out of that kind of repertoire.

Mahler, for instance, I never faced a Mahler score. Here, when I arrived, in our room, my classmate is studying Mahler’s Sixth Symphony, very intensely, which I think he was conducting at the end of the summer somewhere and that gave me a shock, that I did not know one note of Mahler. And I never had any opera experience and here we had many students and conductors studying opera. So I had a shock… really my studying of wide repertoire, by shock, I started here.

I was invited as artistic director by the Boston Symphony to come here, at that time musical director William Steinberg had a health condition, he could not do hot, summer, outdoor concerts, so they invited me. That moment was really for me the beginning of surprise miracle – that I came back to Tanglewood permanently. And then I become conductor for the Boston Symphony, so all my circle – my repertoire, my studying, started here, using my knowledge from Professor Seiko in Japan.

For me, it’s a really special place, and now I must say goodbye. It’s really very amazing emotional thing for me.

I don’t have much thinking more than that, but this place has become my system, and the Boston Symphony is really in my system, and many of you know, the school here, where I came in 1960, I was really very involved in the school, so that also is in my system. And this nature here, same lake – we used to have a swim, now still we swim together, so it is something very special for me.

So this weekend for me is very special, and for you to come, I appreciate very much. Any questions from you?

Ellie Tesher, Toronto Star: Do you feel that going to Vienna is really the pinnacle of your career?

Seiji Ozawa: No. First, for my type of profession, orchestra or me, I think changes are good. That’s what people say and I accept that. And anyway between myself and my wife, we felt professionally I must finish my work. I did not know it would be opera, but I love opera and during my years here we tried from the stage – sometimes from the Shed and the Theatre, Peter Grimes.

But very limited opera repertoire I have, so when I got the opportunity to do opera, I thought very good chance for me to do it before I die, to enjoy opera. This is why I made the decision, so I will try anyway.

Dave Read: Maestro Ozawa, do you see any similarities between Vienna and the Berkshires, goegraphically, culturally, artistically?

Seiji Ozawa: I don’t know! Funny thing, last week in Boston a Japanese TV crew took me to the other side of the Charles River, to a beautiful area where I’ve never been, where the sailboats are. They asked me, where do you usually go?

Between my house in West Newton, Symphony Hall, 2 Japanese, 1 Chinese, 1 Italian restaurant – that’s it, and I don’t know those places in Boston. Viennna – I know the Musikverein, I know the Schonbunn Palace, I know around it, but I don’t – Yes, I know the wine area, that I know. But other places, I don’t know yet.

Dave Read: Are there any tips or advice you would pass along to your successor, Mr. Levine, regarding life in the Berkshires?

Seiji Ozawa: About a week ago, I was in Japan on the subway around noon on my way to rehearsal and my portable telephone rang. You’re not supposed to do this, but I answered and it’s Jimmy!

I had to tell Jimmy, “I”m on the train.” So I got off at the next stop so I could talk in quiet; two minutes later, I’m on the platform, same question, exactly. He asked me, “Hey Seiji, you give me all the information you can give me.”

So I said of course I’d love to do it, but really I have nothing to tell, because different conductors have different ways…So, the orchestra is ready.

The only thing that is sad for me is that he doesn’t come right now – you know, he’s so busy, so there’s a gap that’s sad for me.

Dave Read: Where was he calling from?

Seiji Ozawa: Ah! He was calling from Rome at five o’clock in the morning. I said where? and he said he just came from New York where it’s eleven o’clock at night. He was going to Verbier, Switzerland. it was so funny. (James Levine is Music Director of the UBS Verbier Festival Youth Orchestra.)

Dan Levy, WTEN TV: What are your over-riding emothions this weekend?

Seiji Ozawa: Last April when I said goodbye at Symphony Hall, I was so sad, so sad – inside of me was like catastrophe, I was sick. Next day, I was reallty sick.

So I thought this place, it is open, and the public and the nature, I thought this would be for me and for my group, symphony and students, a big, happy celebration. The program is made for that, I hope it will be. Mahler’s 9th Symphony in Symphony Hall, the orchestra played so good for me; nobody between me and the orchestra and that was the best communication. Two weeks ago I watched the performance on Japanese TV and I was in tears. Something I did not know, I was so busy that moment. When I see the faces of the orchestra members, it was very special.

Sir Roger Norrington leads BSO in Beethoven’s Ninth at Tanglewood

August 25, 2002 performance, reviewed by Dave Conlin Read

Under the exuberant direction of Sir Roger Norrington, the Boston Symphony Orchestra, Tanglewood Festival Chorus, and a quartet of vocal soloists closed the orchestra’s 2002 Tanglewood season with a truly joyful performance of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Opus 125.

This most familiar composition, so often used to commemorate solemn occasions around the world, today was given a mirthful reading appropriate to the true nature of the event – the culminating high point of an annual festival. It has been the Tanglewood finale each August since 1997, but made amazingly new by Norrington, including a re-ordering of the orchestra’s seating arrangement.

The setting outside was as splendid and brilliant as the sound coming from inside the Koussevitsky Shed, the opening of which in 1938 was memorialized with this same symphony. Over the bluegreen hills surrounding the Tanglewood campus, cumulous clouds slowly drifted along, moved by a generous breeze that was a boon to frisbee flingers but a bother to paper plate picnickers among the nearly 13,000 attendees.

Adding to the enjoyment of the performance was the fact that Norrington’s rendition clocked a mere 66 minutes, including an extra minute or two between the first and second movements to allow for the seating of scores of tardy people, way less than the usual 74 minutes, a standard that was used to set the maximum capacity of the compact disc when it was introduced twenty years ago.
(Phillips and Sony each name Beethoven’s Ninth as the ideal)

During that betwen-movements interval, the conductor gave an early indication that he had a special treat in store for us, when turning to face the audience, he leaned playfully for a moment against the podium with an expression of mock exasperation, looking more like a patient parent than an interrupted artist. There were more glances into the audience during the performance, even while his baton waved at the orchestra, and then a big wink just before a loud honking of the contrabassoon. A moment later, bass baritone Nathan Berg intoned Beethoven’s introduction to Schiller’s ode:

O friends, not these tones;
Rather, let us tune our voices
In more pleasant and more joyful song.

What followed was 17 minutes of the most exhilirating and powerful melding of voice and orchestra imaginable. Each of the soloist sang beautifully, (Christine Brewer, Jill Grove, Stanfod Olson, and Berg), but the most beautiful sound was that made by the 120 voices of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus.

Beethoven’s Ninth is a great sonic gift, bequeathed to mankind by a deaf man, the creation of which represents his refusal to yield to gloom. Instead of despairing, he returned to a passion from his youth, Schiller’s ecstatic folk song, and in defiance of the conventions of his art, made this new thing, a symphony wherein the voice is the crucial instrument, extolling sentiments that translate well to all people of good will. Hearty thanks to Maestro Norrington and all the musicians under his direction today, and all the others throughout the memorable Tanglewood 2002 season.

2002 Tanglewood Jazz Festival

By Dave Read (Aug. 31, 2002 concert) – In comparison to the Friday and Sunday night concerts, the Saturday afternoon portion of the 2002 Tanglewood Jazz Festival was a disappointment, but not due to any fault of the musicians. A combination of unfortunate scheduling and electronic feedback spoiled one’s enjoyment of the Hammond B-3 Organ Summit in the Tanglewood theatre near the Main Gate and the taping of Marian McPartland’s Piano Jazz radio show in Ozawa Hall.

The painful feedback problems began early in blues organist Jimmy McGriff’s set in the Theatre and recurred several times, spoiling the otherwise delightful singing of special guest Lady Ce Ce and guitarist Wayne Boyd.

Preceding McGriff was Joey DeFrancesco, who this year supplanted Jimmy Smith atop the Downbeat critic’s poll as best organist. Legendary saxophonist David “Fathead” Newman was supposed to join DeFrancesco’s trio but didn’t arrive on stage until McGriff’s set was underway.

The 1:30 program culminated in a jam session, giving the organists a chance to challenge each other, and was just getting warmed up when it was time to make the jog across the Tanglewood campus for the 3 PM start of Marian McPartland’s Piano Jazz, with guest Sir Roland Hanna.

As things turned out, people were being seated in Ozawa Hall throughout the taping, and it was an unfortunate decision to bolt the very real gig underway in the Theatre for the mere novelty of McPartland’s radio program.

McPartland’s show is wonderful, as edifying as it is entertaining, but there’s no rationale for calling a taping of it a concert. Brilliant in its own medium, it pales on stage, unlike Garrison Keillor’s, which with it’s house band, guest musicians, and cast of actors has plenty of visual appeal.

McPartland’s and Hanna’s solo and duet piano playing was fine, if constrained, but their conversation was not particularly sparkling and some of it even had to be re-hashed for the eventual broadcast. We’re sure we’ll enjoy listening to the broadcast, and it was a pleasure to see these wonderful artists up close.

Dave Brubeck at 2002 Tanglewood Jazz Festival

September 1, 2002 performance review by Dave Read

Three tunes into his 2½ hour 2002 Tanglewood Jazz Festival concert, Dave Brubeck said, “I like to introduce new stuff when I play here because the audience is so kind.” Makes you wonder if “here” referred to the seven year old Ozawa Hall where tonight’s gig was, or the Koussevitsky Music Shed, which opened when he was 18 in 1938, or just hereabouts, which would include the site of the fabled Music Barn and the Lenox School of Jazz, where he performed and taught during the 1950s. Regardless, what a treat it was to be in the audience while Dave Brubeck is introducing new material!

That new song was Crescent City Stomp, and it was built around an infectious beat established by drummer Randy Jones, a beat Brubeck said you hear all over New Orleans. Bobby Militello’s saxophone was the featured instrument after the drum intro and Brubeck himself was the most enthused member of the audience for a while, as he would be throughout the evening, whenever his bandmates took their many solos.

Rounding out the quartet, all dressed smartly in dinner jackets and black slacks, was bassist Michael Moore, who plucked and bowed several eloquent passages from his bass, which his languid body fairly enfolded. There were times when you’d think Moore was a ventriloquist for the cleanly enunciated lines he drew from his instrument, but an inartful one because all the while you could see his lips moving! (Read comprehensive bios of the band, from Hedrick Smith’s PBS show “Rediscovering Dave Brubeck.“)

Introducing the evening’s first tune, Brubeck said that for fifty years he started concerts with St. Louis Blues, but tonight would start with the title tune from his current release, “The Crossing.” He told about a trans-Atlantic jazz cruise with about 100 musicians aboard the QE II, which got underway on the Hudson, passed the Verazzano Narrows and into the Atlantic, ” – and we worked up a head of steam, which I hope we do tonight.”

They did.

The tune was some piece of magical mimicry; it was easy to imagine a grand ship honking and chugging away from the pier and soon enough finding its way into rough waters evoked by churning bass notes, then Brubeck took the helm playing long melodious lines, the ship rocking smoothly through eddies and swells.

In telling us that on September 21, he’ll celebrate his 60th wedding anniversary, Brubeck introduced the next tune, All My Love, a translucent ballad that had him hunched over the keyboard, his eyes only inches away from his hands playing so few notes that you could count them.

After The Crossing, came the haunting Elegy, an intimate composition that Ozawa Hall was designed for, where it seems to become part of the ensemble. Continuing in that vein, Brubeck introduced Don’t Forget Me with a few minutes of distant romantic lines that suddenly turned immediate and raucus with another of Militello’s expansive sax solos, and then had Brubeck’s hands flying all over the keyboard before he returned to the lonely little melody that he began with.

This was a very special evening of jazz, a million miles away from being a museum piece, every tune imbued with freshness and vigor. Brubeck’s age was apparent only when he stepped over to the mic, which he did several times to introduce tunes during the first set, which was probably pre-arranged as opposed to the second which I think he made up from the bench as he went along.

It began with Pennies From Heaven, dedicated to the people on the lawn who were being rained upon lightly. Brubeck played out the celestial theme in the next two tunes, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and Sunny Side of the Street, developing each while the band listened to hear where they were going. Militello’s flute solo on – Rainbow was ineffably sublime. Sunny Side – was rollicking, and at one point Brubeck pointed toward Moore and drew a circle in the air, indicating another round of solos for all.

The audience responded to the celestial set with thunderous applause, which the quartet accepted graciously and which Brubeck seemed overwhelmed by, his grin so broad as he looked into the audience and then around to his band to spread out the acclaim. After his fans got quiet again, he mischievously noodled a few lines from Singing in the Rain then broke into the first notes of Take Five, the Paul Desmond composition from “Time Out,” the world’s first million-selling jazz record.

It was a thrilling rendition, featuring Militello’s slow reinterpretation of the theme before returning it to a rambunctiousness that Brubeck brought to a gleeful level which Randy Jones exploded with a virtuoso display of drumming. Brubeck brought the tune back to earth and then Jones laid down the tastiest little drum coda for the ultimate punctuation to this landmark of jazz.

Sustained applause brought these giants back on stage, Brubeck played a few notes of Brahm’s Lullabye to everybody’s amusement before the quartet re-loaded for Take the A Train, which was a rumbling jam session, the sea cruise of two hours earlier long over. It went on until Brubeck, answering a questioning look from Militello, raised his hands from the keyboard, turned them into pistols and fired a volley into the air.

This performance was a slice of jazz for the ages, delivered by the ageless gentleman genius Dave Brubeck and his virtuoso sidemen, each of whom was brilliant tonight.

James Taylor and the Boston Pops set Tanglewood attendance record – July 17, 2002

July 17, 2002 Tanglewood concert review by Dave Read

In an evening of Americana worthy of an Independence Day festival, three American icons familiar to Tanglewood audiences joined forces Wednesday night to entertain a record-setting crowd of 24,470, breaking the previous record (23,039) held by the Tanglewood on Parade celebration in 1999.

The combined draw of John Williams, the Boston Pops Orchestra and James Taylor filled the Shed, the lawn and the surrounding woods and parking lots with concertgoers, who were treated to a one-of-a-kind show that drew lines connecting the American spirit and the ongoing struggle for freedom to the musical heritage celebrating that spirited struggle.

The tone was set in the first half of the program, when Taylor joined the Pops to narrate an excerpt from Aaron Copland’s “A Lincoln Portrait.” It was a brilliant choice, underlining what indeed is a Lincolnesque quality in the pop-folk singer-songwriter, seen in public for perhaps the first time in suit and tie.

It also connected Lincoln’s brilliant, poetic oratory – read in Taylor’s typically understated delivery but with plenty of impact – to Taylor’s own politically-minded work, bringing to mind songs like “Shed a Little Light,” his tribute to Martin Luther King Jr., and even “Line ‘Em Up,” his semi-comic look at Richard Nixon’s resignation.

The Lincoln piece was part of an America-themed Pops program that included a peppy ride through Richard Rodgers’ “Carousel Waltz” and Williams’ “Call of the Champions,” which kicked off the evening with a brass fanfare. The meat, however, was in the Lincoln piece and Williams’ own portrait of that other much-loved, assassinated president, John F. Kennedy.

Written for the Oliver Stone film “JFK,” Williams’ suite ranged from a lyrical, Irish-tinged theme full of hope – quintessential Williams in its Coplandesque optimism – to a representation of Kennedy’s assassination full of sharp edges and harsh dissonance – more Stravinsky than Copland.

The curtain came down on the first half with a strut through a Yankee Doodle-like march composed by Williams for Steven Spielberg’s World War II comedy “1941.”

Still wearing a the suit, but without the tie, Taylor returned after intermission with a “Hi, how ya doin’?” instantly giving the evening a more relaxed feel. It also helped when, in his folksy manner – wasn’t Lincoln folksy, too? – he teased the audience by saying that he would play three new songs.

“I know you hate new material, but these songs sound just like the old ones,” he said, before launching into “On the 4th of July,” a ballad off his terrific upcoming album “October Road” that was indeed vintage James Taylor.

Vintage in a whole other way, however, was another new song, “Mean Old Man,” an old-fashioned, jazz-style pop tune that, in addition to offering showcases for the two bona fide jazz players in his band, guitarist John Pizzarelli and pianist Larry Goldings, proved that Taylor himself has jazz chops as a vocalist. The tune swung harder and with more personality than anything we’ve heard at Tanglewood in quite a while.

The Pops mostly stayed out of Taylor’s way on the tunes they accompanied. They provided stirring backup, however, on his version of the folk song, “The Water Is Wide,” another showcase for Taylor’s considerable vocal talent, during which you got to hear him ring long notes that built with vibrato. (Is this guy taking voice lessons? He never sounded so good.)

His riotously funny spoken introduction to “The Frozen Man” was first-rate comedy, and “Carolina In My Mind” was a mellow counterpoint.

The closest Taylor came to rocking out fully was on “Country Road,” which opened with a duet jam between Taylor on acoustic guitar and bassist Jimmy Johnson. Even with drummer Gregg Bissonette playing brushes, the song’s inner dynamic of tension and release threatened to explode fully several times. Williams, sitting behind Taylor during the song, got so caught up in the tune that he began clapping out the rhythm.

The orchestra backed Taylor on the set-closing version of “Fire and Rain,” which, taken at a slower pace than the original and with some additional orchestral swells and flourishes and an added crescendo at the end, taking on the aspect of a Williams composition.

Do I hear a full album’s worth of James Taylor songs as orchestrated by John Williams in the future? Do I hear a full album’s worth of pop standards sung by Taylor with the Boston Pops in the future? This concert suggested yes to both.

The Pops played some music from the score to the “Harry Potter” movie – more of which will be heard at Tanglewood on Parade later this month – while Taylor took a breather before officially bringing down the curtain backed by the orchestra on a chilling version of “America the Beautiful.”

With the orchestra released from its official duties as the clock struck 11 PM, Taylor then regrouped informally and generously entertained his fans with an impromptu solo set of favorites including “You’ve Got a Friend,” “The Secret of Life,” and, of course, the obligatory “Sweet Baby James,” with its invocation of the Berkshires and “the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston.”

It was a truly magical and memorable night.

2018 Tanglewood schedule

The 2018 Tanglewood schedulefeatures a season-long celebration of the centennial of Leonard’s Bernstein’s birth, culminating in the Aug. 25 Bernstein Centennial Celebration hosted by Audra McDonald, with Maestro Andris Nelsons, four guest conductors and soloists Yo-Yo Ma, Midori, and others.

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Tanglewood tickets and box office information

Tickets for the 2018 Tanglewood season available through Tanglewood’s website, www.tanglewood.org, SymphonyCharge at 888-266-1200, and at the Symphony Hall Box Office at 301 Massachusetts Avenue, Boston MA.