Among the high points in the history of the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra are the concerts conducted by Sergiu Celibidache. From an interpretative point of view, these were great moments not just in the history of the orchestra but in terms of the works themselves. It was in 1958 that Celibidache was first invited to conduct in Stuttgart. Six years later he recorded Richard Strauss's Till Eulenspiegel for television and conducted the final concert in a week-long series of light-music concerts organized by Süddeutscher Rundfunk. His links with the orchestra continued to strengthen. When their principal conductor, Hans Müller-Kray, died in May 1969, the question naturally arose as to who should conduct the gala concert to mark the orchestra's 25th anniversary in 1971. The musicians themselves chose Sergiu Celibidache. The program comprised Hindemith's Mathis der Maler Symphony and Bruckner's Seventh Symphony and left a profound impression on all concerned, more than fulfilling expectations. When Celibidache was appointed the orchestra's artistic director in January 1972, the players' dream came true. They now had an internationally sought-after conductor whose name guaranteed full houses. Tours added to the orchestra's profile. Radio stations both at home and abroad broadcast concerts from the Stuttgart Liederhalle. Celibidache proudly showed the letters that attested to the overwhelming success of his concerts with the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra.

The immensely high standards that Celibidache demanded of his players presupposed long and intensive rehearsals during which every detail was polished to the last degree. Nothing was left to chance: even the length of the bowstroke needed to produce a particular tremolando was the result of extensive experimentation. Celibidache's philosophical digressions provided insights into his conceptual and interpretative world that were to leave their mark on the orchestra for many years to come. He always conducted from memory. There was something majestic about his bearing, which was that of a sovereign magician capable of conjuring up the most astonishing musical sounds. But it was necessary to attend a rehearsal with Celibidache to see how much the musicians liked him and how much they were willing to go through fire and water for him, even though he was implacable and made incessant demands on them. Yet he never overtaxed them. He knew their limitations and ensured that every tempo was such that each phrase could be clearly articulated. When he felt that an orchestra had reached its peak, he lost all interest in it. He needed a body of players that he had to work on and that he could fashion as a sculptor fashions clay. At the same time, the orchestra itself had to be willing to be fashioned in this way.

His interpretations were subjective, often idiosyncratic. His performances lasted longer than those of other conductors, but his broad tempi never sounded empty. The symphonic movements that he conducted were filled with an inner life. Central to his repertory were Beethoven, Brahms, Bruckner and Tchaikovsky. He had a more problematical relationship with Mozart and Schubert, but was ideally suited to Debussy and Ravel. It was astonishing to discover what shades of tone colour he found in the works of the impressionists and coaxed from his orchestra. Of 20th-century composers, it was above all Stravinsky and Bartók to whom he repeatedly returned. His performances of the former's Symphony of Psalms had an archaic austerity to them, while the ballet The Fairy's Kiss was of enchanting lightness and airiness. Each detail of the composer's crystalline writing was finely chiselled, while performed with great elegance and wit.

Celibidache was born in 1912 and first came to prominence shortly after the Second World War. He studied in his native Romania and later in Paris and Berlin. His teachers included Arnold Schering, under whom he wrote his doctoral thesis on Josquin Desprez (c.1440-1521). He was thirty-three when he took over from Wilhelm Furtwängler as conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic in 1945, at a time when Furtwängler was prevented from conducting in Allied-occupied Germany. Although he had no experience, Celibidache soon asserted his authority and emerged as one of the most fascinating conductors of the younger generation. Furtwängler returned to Berlin in 1952 and Celibidache naturally made way for him. All the greater must have been his disappointment, therefore, when the Berliners passed him over and chose Herbert von Karajan to succeed Furtwängler on the latter's death in 1954. Celibidache seems never to have got over his sense of disappointment, and for a long time he would not conduct in Berlin. But the Berliners did not forget him and gave him a rapturous welcome when he conducted Bruckner's Eighth Symphony with the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra in the city's Philharmonie.

Before taking over as principal conductor of the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra, Celibidache had often appeared as guest conductor in the world's major centers of music. Only for relatively brief periods did he allow himself to be tied down to orchestras in Rome, Cologne and Stockholm. Under his direction, the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra emerged as one of the finest orchestras in the then Federal Republic. He finally left them in 1983 and took over as principal conductor of the Munich Philharmonic, a post that he held until his death in 1996.

However stubborn and difficult Celibidache may have been as a result of his spontaneity, directness and ebullience and however much he may have wanted to be the constant centre of attention, he was no star conductor in the modern sense of the term but a performing artist in the service of his art. It is this, more than anything else, that explains the impact that he had on orchestras and audiences alike.

Wolfgang Ludewig

(Wolfgang Ludewig was for many years opera and contemporary music editor at the former Süddeutscher Rundfunk.)







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