Few conductors exploring Anton Bruckner’s music have had the advantage of a decade spent playing in the Vienna Philharmonic under illustrious figures such as Herbert von Karajan, Leonard Bernstein, Carlo Maria Giulini, and Zubin Mehta, gaining a deep understanding of the music from within. Manfred Honeck, who played viola in the orchestra (his younger brother, Rainer, is one of its Concertmasters) before transitioning to a conducting career, has served as Music Director of the Pittsburgh Symphony since 2008. With a European tour set to bring Honeck back to Vienna, I spoke with him about this year’s significant anniversary composer.
Honeck long harboured ambitions to leave the ranks and trade his bow for the baton. “Conducting was always a dream of mine!” he recalls. “Even before I joined the Wiener Philharmoniker, I had already conducted the Austrian Youth Orchestra and founded the Wiener Jeunesse Orchester, which still exists, but at that time I was far from truly understanding conducting.”
His musical spark ignited early. “I remember as a young boy,” Honeck reminisces, “attending the New Year’s Concert at the Musikverein. Standing at the back in the Stehplatz, surrounded by adults, I couldn’t see anything. An usher noticed me, picked me out of the crowd, and placed me in front. In that moment, I had the best view of Willi Boskovsky and the Wiener Philharmoniker, and I went home thinking that I would either become an orchestral musician or a conductor. I’m grateful to that usher, who likely had no idea how significant his actions were in my life.”
“Alongside my work with the Philharmoniker and the Wiener Staatsoper, I was also conducting professional orchestras like the Vienna Chamber Orchestra and ensembles in Germany. It was only a matter of time before I made the decision, which came when Alexander Pereira, then Intendant at the Konzerthaus and soon to be director of the Zurich Opera House, invited me to join him. I knew I had to seize this opportunity. I loved playing in the Philharmoniker, though. Experiencing all these fantastic conductors was the best training for becoming a conductor!”
These maestros each had their own methods for conducting Bruckner. “Karajan particularly focused on refining the sound, aiming for a lot of beauty. Achieving a church-like sound was crucial for him. There’s even a CD—possibly Bruckner’s Seventh—with Karajan on the cover, and you can spot me among the musicians in the Musikverein in the background. We performed the Ninth with Lenny on tour and again with Giulini, who led us to produce a powerful, profound string sound. Each of these conductors had a great sensitivity to Bruckner’s music. Despite their differing interpretations, Bruckner’s music always managed to resonate strongly. It’s incredibly resilient.”
What makes a great Bruckner conductor? “That’s a very difficult question,” Honeck reflects. “Technically, conducting Bruckner is quite straightforward. It’s not as complex as Stravinsky’s Sacre or Mahler’s works. The same goes for Mozart.”
On paper, Bruckner’s music might seem simple, with no complex time signatures or abrupt tempo changes. However, pacing these tempos can be challenging. “You need to grasp that the tempo will come naturally if you understand the context in which it was written, including the spirituality embedded in the music. If there is contrapuntal writing, like in a fugue, it’s crucial to give life to the second theme and the counterpoint; rushing through it can be problematic. The same applies to folk elements—knowing the appropriate tempo and style is essential.”
We explore the musical essence woven into Bruckner’s compositions: the tremolando strings, the ‘three against two’ rhythms, and the long crescendos. “The pauses in Bruckner’s music are also crucial. He constructs long, block-like phrases that need to be integrated into a cohesive structure. When starting with Bruckner, you must already envision the end to create a seamless, extended line and connect these blocks fluidly. It’s not about playing one block after another; that would disrupt Bruckner’s music. Instead, you need to connect the phrases organically and logically.”
Bruckner’s symphonies are often likened to ‘cathedrals of sound,’ with his chords frequently possessing an organ-like texture that reflects his religious devotion. “Bruckner prayed daily and made a sign each time he prayed an Ave Maria. At the monastery of St Florian, where he was deeply engaged with the liturgy, he learned to sing, play the organ, and understand counterpoint. This background influenced his music—his scores often reveal his religious beliefs, with a constant gaze towards heaven and God.”
Honeck writes his own detailed liner notes for his CDs. In the latest Pittsburgh release, Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony, he notes a particular new insight. “Why, in the first movement, does Bruckner wait nearly 20 minutes [bar 391] to introduce the timpani?” he questions. “There were other moments where the timpani could have been used, but weren’t. For a long time, I didn’t understand this, and then it became clear: it reflects the liturgy. Bruckner attended Mass daily, with the central part being the Eucharist. At the moment the timpani enters, he marks ‘sehr feierlich’—very solemn and celebratory—indicating its special significance. The crescendo and diminuendo mirror the priest’s actions with the bread and wine, and just before the timpani comes in, there’s a diminuendo depicting the congregation kneeling. A listener recently told me, ‘Manfred, I now hear this moment completely differently,’ which makes writing these notes worthwhile. However, these are just my interpretations; others may see it differently. There are many paths to the same understanding!”
“But it’s also essential to remember that Bruckner was influenced by folk music as well. This leads me to the point that you cannot isolate any one aspect of Bruckner’s life: you can’t say Bruckner is solely spiritual, solely organ-based, or solely focused on folk music. To do so would be entirely mistaken. The sound of a cathedral and the organ are crucial to Bruckner, but they are not the whole story. Just as Wiener Schnitzel is important to all Viennese, living solely on it is impossible!”
I mention that Bruckner’s folk music often references the Ländler. “Ah, but which type of Ländler?” Honeck replies. “There is the Steirische Ländler from the south, the Bayerische Ländler, the Tyroler Ländler, and various others that Bruckner was familiar with. There’s even a yodel present, and in the first movement [bar 221], I asked the violins to play with a Hungarian flavour. A Hungarian csárdas in a Bruckner symphony might seem sacrilegious to some, but remember that the Austrian Empire was much more diverse than modern-day Austria. It included regions like Czechia, Slovakia, and Hungary, making Vienna a musical crossroads. Consider Brahms with his Hungarian Dances—Bruckner would have heard this Hungarian music too, so it’s no surprise he incorporated it.”
Bruckner was a humble man who struggled to fit into Viennese society. How much was he caught in the clash between Wagner and Brahms supporters? “There were many musicological disputes, with Eduard Hanslick at the forefront. It’s hard for us to grasp why they were so at odds. The same tensions existed within the Wiener Philharmoniker; older colleagues shared stories of conflicts within the orchestra, passed down from their own teachers. Bruckner’s music was so unique and different. Introducing Wagner tubas, unconventional chords, and starting symphonies with tremolando was shocking to them, and about half of the orchestra disliked it.
“Bruckner was a newcomer from Upper Austria—Ansfelden, St Florian, Linz. Despite his humility and willingness to revise his scores, he was confident in his own ideas. His self-assuredness did not endear him to everyone. When he arrived in Vienna, he didn’t adhere to social norms, such as wearing short trousers. His students once gifted him a new suit, which he promptly altered, cutting it to fit his preference for short trousers. This may seem like a small detail, but it reflects his refusal to conform. He remained true to himself.”
To Honeck, recordings serve as vital “documents of how an orchestra performs at a given moment.” Since he began leading the Pittsburgh Symphony in 2008, he has aimed to record much of the core repertoire. “The Symphony is a significant cultural institution in Pittsburgh, and not having a record of their work was not ideal.” I ask about the orchestra’s strengths. “The PSO has the ability to infuse every phrase with energy and meaning, aligning with what I believe the composers intend—whether it’s about love, darkness, death, or triumph. They truly commit to every moment and are willing to push boundaries when asked. They thrive on being challenged.”
In addition to recording, touring plays a crucial role in showcasing the Pittsburgh Symphony’s capabilities. “It’s important that people want you to tour,” Honeck explains. “For instance, this year we are the only American orchestra invited to perform at the Salzburg Festival. We act as ambassadors for Pittsburgh, and our donors and sponsors support this endeavour. When you have something to share, it’s essential to get it out to the world. Unlike the Steelers, who can’t travel to Europe or Asia due to their league being based in America, the Symphony has the opportunity to perform wherever we are invited.”
The ten-concert tour wraps up, returning to Honeck’s Vienna, with a performance of Mahler’s First Symphony to open the Konzerthaus season. “We tour every second year, and it’s a tradition I am grateful for. It’s a joy for the audience to experience orchestras from different continents. Music unites people; it is the finest language in the world.”
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