Remembering: Seiji Ozawa

When conductor Seiji Ozawa began appearing on orchestra podiums in the late 1960s, he cut an unconventional figure. With a youthful haircut and clad in his signature jacket, turtleneck, and “love beads,” Ozawa looked approachable, contemporary, in tune with the times—and disarmingly unlike the formally dressed conductor-as-authority-figure that was the norm. And at a time when conductors and musicians were overwhelmingly white, Ozawa—born in Japanese-occupied Shenyang, China, in 1935 and raised Japan beginning in 1944—looked unlike everyone else onstage. He dispelled anti-Asian biases and opened the door for increased visibility of musical artists from multiple backgrounds. His formidable musical insights, charisma, and conducting skills made him a groundbreaking leader for decades in the U.S. and abroad.

Ozawa led orchestras all over the world, but he is perhaps most closely identified with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, where he served as music director from 1973 to 2002. Ozawa commissioned 44 new pieces during his tenure there. He also held directorships at the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, the San Francisco Symphony, the Ravinia Festival, and the Vienna State Opera. Ozawa had a particular affinity for Messiaen, Takemitsu, and Ligeti and led premieres of works by all three, including Messiaen’s massive opera Saint François d’Assise in 1983. He had a remarkable memory and often conducted even complex scores from memory.

Ozawa studied piano as a child, but after he broke two fingers playing rugby in 1950, he focused on conducting, studying with Hideo Saito in Tokyo. In 1959, he won first prize at the International Competition of Orchestra Conductors in Besançon, France, which earned him an invitation to study the following summer at Tanglewood, where he won the Koussevitzky Prize for most talented student conductor. In 1994 the Seiji Ozawa Hall opened at Tanglewood and was named in his honor.

Ozawa, whose mentors included Leonard Bernstein and Herbert von Karajan, led a pioneering tour of the Boston Symphony Orchestra to China in 1979. He founded the Saito Kinen Orchestra in Japan in 1984 and in 1992 inaugurated the Saito Kinen Festival (now called the Seiji Ozawa Matsumoto Festival).

This summer at the Matsumoto Festival, in remembrance of Ozawa, current BSO Music Director Andris Nelsons will conduct the Brahms symphonies, which Ozawa performed and recorded with the Saito Kinen Orchestra on European tours during the 1980s. It makes for a satisfying artistic circle, and points to Ozawa’s enduring influence across borders.

Here, some of those who knew him share their memories of Ozawa’s personality, perspectives, and impact.

Marin Alsop, conductor, current leadership positions at ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra, Polish National Radio Symphony, Philharmonia Orchestra (London), and the Philadelphia Orchestra:
I first met Seiji while auditioning for Tanglewood. I thought I had royally messed up L’Histoire du Soldat, but he told me that “it wasn’t that bad.” A man of few words, Seiji was a genuine mentor to me at Tanglewood. Watching his incredible technique in action and observing his unrelenting work ethic were truly inspirational experiences for me as a young conductor. Sometimes navigating his English was a bit challenging. We got stuck briefly when he said, “It’s the chemical.” At some point I realized he meant “chemistry.” I don’t think he was terribly pleased when he had his acupuncturist work on me to ease my terrible cold, and the next day I arrived at rehearsal with NO voice whatsoever! While he certainly was inscrutable, I always felt his commitment, passion, and dedication to teaching us and will be forever grateful.

Anthony Fogg, vice president of artistic planning at the Boston Symphony Orchestra:
I had the great honor of working for Seiji Ozawa for the last eight years of his tenure as the Boston Symphony’s music director. He took an enormous chance when he invited me to become artistic administrator of the orchestra—someone from Australia who was completely outside the mainstream of the arts world. But, in doing so, he completely changed the course of my life, just as he did the lives of countless others in countless different ways.

My two strongest memories of Seiji are of the sheer energy he embodied and his compassion. His work ethic and personal discipline were inspirational. Regardless of what demands had been made of his time, no matter how late the previous evening had been, his early morning study routine was never interrupted. “There’s nothing worse than a conductor not knowing every detail of a score,” he’d say. When we mounted a production of Peter Grimes with the Tanglewood Music Center in summer of 1996 to restart the Tanglewood opera program, Seiji was present for every single rehearsal, whether musical or staging, of the double cast of young singers who were singing this demanding work for the first time. He gave 100% of his focus and expected everyone around him to do the same.

Relationships were enormously important to him. Once you gained Seiji’s trust, you had it completely. He was loyal to friends and colleagues from all stages of his life and career, and was generous to a fault, especially if someone had fallen on hard times personally or professionally.

Seiji reveled in the grand musical statements. His phenomenally refined conducting technique meant that he could command the greatest forces with crystal clarity. I recall vividly a concert we gave under the Eiffel Tower in May 2000, when Seiji led two orchestras (the Orchestre de Paris joined forces with the BSO), a large chorus, children’s chorus, and an audience of tens of thousands in a version of the round Frère Jacques! The next day, he conducted from memory and with complete control Messiaen’s massive Turangalîla-Symphonie with the same commitment and assurance.

Seiji leaves a huge legacy, not only in the membership of the Boston Symphony and of artistic ecosystems of Boston and Tanglewood, but especially in his native Japan. He was truly a world figure in the classical musical field whose influence will linger for generations

Atsuhiko Gondai, composer:
If it wasn’t for Seiji Ozawa, I wouldn’t have become a musician. If it wasn’t for Seiji Ozawa, who was my idol as a child, I would never have heard the music of Messiaen or Takemitsu and I would never have thought of becoming a composer. Those two composers were lucky enough to experience Ozawa conducting their music, and I envy the chance they had to collaborate with him. But I was born too late! Ozawa was scheduled to give the world première of a piece I wrote for him, but the concert was canceled due to his illness, and now that possibility has been severed forever. I am acutely aware of the cruelty of time. I wonder if this will have a significant impact on my own compositions in the future, as I am confronted with the irreversible nature of time.

Keith Lockhart, conductor of the Boston Pops:
Seiji Ozawa was a truly great musician and a pioneer, extraordinary in so many respects—from his boundless physical energy and unique style to his photographic memory for scores. I was a high school freshman when the Boston Symphony Orchestra hired Seiji as music director in 1973, and he was legendary to my generation of aspiring musicians. I never imagined that a couple decades later I’d be working with him, and now that I’ve been in Boston for about the same amount of time he was, I still see how much of Seiji’s legacy endures on and off the stage. I was new to the city when I arrived to lead the Boston Pops, and Seiji took it on himself to make sure I became as great a fan of Boston sports teams as he was, taking me to my first Red Sox and Patriots games. I’ll think of him on opening day at Fenway Park this spring and am so grateful for all that he taught and gave us.

Andris Nelsons, music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra (The following are excerpts from Nelsons’ statements about  Ozawa for the BSO and for the Seiji Ozawa Matsumoto Festival in Japan.):
Maestro Seiji Ozawa was a wonderful role model, an incomparable leader, and a great friend. While we are still grieving this great loss, it is testament to Seiji’s generosity and clarity of vision that his beloved Matsumoto Festival will not only take place this year, but act as a reminder of his enduring legacy, as well as a tribute to his inspiring role as an ambassador for music all over the world. I am greatly looking forward to returning to Matsumoto this summer.

Throughout my own journey as a conductor and as a young musician growing up in Latvia, I have found terrific inspiration in Seiji’s performances of both symphonic and operatic works, as well as his musical leadership. His remarkable recordings with the BSO, which spanned centuries of musical styles and genres, were among those that impressed me the most deeply. Later, as I began my tenure as Boston Symphony music director, I became keenly aware of the extraordinary impact that he had on this great institution, especially the incredibly talented players that joined the BSO under his nearly three-decade long leadership. Beyond the conducting, Seiji’s uncompromising love of music and heartfelt respect for the musicians with whom he worked was a tremendous example of orchestra leadership.

Nodoka Okisawa, chief conductor of the City of Kyoto Symphony Orchestra (Ozawa had appointed Okisawa as principal guest conductor of the Saito Kinen Orchestra, which Ozawa co-founded in 1984):
As one of the countless musicians around the world who are in awe of Seiji Ozawa’s music and way of life, I am deeply honored and fortunate to return to this special music festival. As I immersed myself in the breath of the music abiding in the Saito Kinen Orchestra, it felt as if my body was floating. I will forever feel encouraged by how Seiji Ozawa kindly attended and watched us from the first day of rehearsals to the final performance, taking my hands and offering words of support and appreciation.

Robert Spano, conductor, music director of the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra:
It is difficult to find words to express the sense of loss of an artist as global (in its literal and metaphorical sense) as Seiji Ozawa. Many have written of his pioneering work as an Asian in the western classical music tradition. However, for me, growing up watching him on public television, he embodied that tradition. His passion for the Tanglewood Music Center was emblematic of his commitment to teaching, and given his tireless industry and pursuit of excellence, he was a model of musical integrity. As a performer, he was the supreme alchemist: crafting every detail, yet communicating the gestalt; carving with great precision, yet investing every phrase with tremendous passion; approaching each score with reverence and humility, yet delivering something deeply personal. Perhaps that was his alchemy, too: he gave his gift to the world, but for those of us blessed to work with him, we felt he was speaking directly to us.

Kazuki Yamada, chief conductor and artistic advisor of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra:
When I first met Seiji, he was 75 years old. When we look at footage of him when he was younger, his conducting is characterized by intense gestures, as if he was possessed by music. When Seiji was working with young musicians, he never condescended to them. Seiji treated everyone with respect. I think that’s because there were many events in his life when he was not treated as equal to his western peers. I have so much respect and gratitude for Seiji, who single-handedly paved the way for Asian musicians at a time when people thought: “Is it really possible for Easterners to understand Western music?” The loss of Seiji, who was admired by all Japanese conductors, is significant. We must do our best to carry on his legacy.