And a joyous New Year to all of you! Hopefully 2023 ended on a high note.

While most people head home for the holidays, Cindy and I usually go on an extended vacation. For the most part, we travel to places that are somewhat remote. Past trips have taken us to Morocco, the Galapagos, and the Amazon. This time we explored Tanzania.

Although many people think of St. Louis as being in the southern part of the country, we can have some winter weather close to that of Buffalo, New York. Such was the case in the middle of January, when the temperatures dipped below zero; thankfully, the snow was minimal.

All bundled up, I began a two-week stay with my old band, the SLSO. Many things are different this year, not the least of which is that Powell Hall is under renovation and the orchestra has had to relocate. They play in two venues, one of them being the Stifel Theatre, the orchestra’s former home until 1968, when the R.K.O. St. Louis Theatre was converted from a movie palace into one of the finest concert halls in the country.

February was education month for me, in a couple different ways. In recent years, I have devoted some time to teaching at university music schools and conservatories. More than likely, most people think this is a one-way street, with the professor passing down knowledge accumulated over many years.

In fact, I probably learn more from the experience than the students do. Assessing the health of music education in our society by finding out what it is really like in the artistic/academic world has become something of a pet project for me. I am gleaning that there is considerable talent out there, perhaps too much for the marketplace.

Adventures new and old marked a busy March calendar. Overall, it was a most pleasant time on the road.

I had never visited, much less conducted in, Vancouver for reasons unclear. Perhaps it was not on my agent’s radar until recently, but the VSO is certainly a prominent orchestra on the Canadian landscape. Fortunately, the stars finally aligned for my debut in British Columbia.

Let’s see: terrific orchestra, great weather, beautiful ocean views, fantastic food and wine, lovely people, and scenic mountains. As the refrain goes, “Who could ask for anything more?”

Such was the first part of April, with two weeks spent in my new role as Principal Guest Conductor of the Orquesta Filarmonica de Gran Canaria. If you had asked me as recently as twenty years ago if I would be spending much time conducting orchestras in Spain, the answer would have been no, but the post-Franco years have seen an explosion of culture in this part of the world.

May was a time for catching up and working on projects without conducting anything. With the score-study volumes in full swing, I need to stay ahead of the game with the research and writing. Volume Two is already at the publisher with an anticipated release date in October. My job now is to focus on the next book in the series, although its path to publication is not yet clear.

In addition, I have written two new compositions that will be premiered next season. The first is a set of Scarlatti keyboard sonatas that I have transcribed for orchestral wind ensemble. The first performance will be in St. Louis in October on a program that also features a piece by Cindy as well as a new one by my son, Daniel.

Three very different weeks ensued during June, representing the traditional, the unconventional, and the educational. All were satisfying and made for a fine start to a not-too-busy summer conducting schedule.

After a month away from the podium, it was time to pick up the baton and strike up the bands, first in Bilbao, Spain. I was not exactly looking forward to this trip, as a scheduling error resulted in only a single conducting engagement in Europe as opposed to the usual two, three, or sometimes eight weeks overseas.

In August 1964, I made my first public appearance as a conductor. I had done bits of stick-waving in high school and had led the Marriage of Figaro Overture with the California Youth Symphony, but this was the true beginning of my musical life on the podium.

The place was Aspen, Colorado. I went there as a conducting student under the watchful eye of the Aspen Music Festival’s music director, Walter Susskind. Sixty years ago, this mountain town did not have traffic lights. Boutiques were unheard of, except for those selling skiing equipment. There were only two fine-dining establishments, the Copper Kettle and the Chart House (for steaks). The student orchestra rehearsed in the high school gymnasium.

As I write this, it is a few days before September 1^st. At this time, I have no idea what is being planned for the day the birthday number on the left changes. Sometimes, momentous occasions are best celebrated quietly.

If it were up to me, I would simply watch a Cardinals game, fire up the Big Green Egg, and spend a quiet day at home with Cindy. A special bottle of wine might enhance the festivities, although we usually just have a single glass. However, I suspect that a few friends will stop by, and we shall be ready for them.

80 is not the new 60; it is 80—period.

Not that it seems to have mattered very much, as I feel great. The new number on the left has been around for a few weeks now, and gradually, I have eased my way back into season-opening form.

On September 1, we had a few friends over to the house for wine and cheese, followed by more wine. Cindy had surprised me the previous evening with some wonderful gifts, including the new computer on which I am writing this essay. Looks much better, doesn’t it?

Sometimes plans come together in ways that might be predicted but at the same time offer wonderful surprises. I knew that the early September birthday celebrations were just a part of what was to come throughout the season, but I had no idea of the impact they would make on me.

After the successful premiere of Daniel’s Voyager 130 in Dublin, we headed to Lyon for another performance of this piece and other works by members of clan Slatkin. This was a two-week stint, a rare privilege for a guest conductor, but this milestone birthday has its benefits. Settling into one place for an extended stay means at least one less airplane.

Reunions and a debut marked this past month, with a few side trips along the way. And of course, we had an election. More about that in a moment.

Nearly two years had passed since my last visit to the Detroit Symphony. As its music director laureate, I have the honor of being regarded as the grand old man with a degree of experience that can make a difference. I picked up right where I left off with the musicians who knew me during the ten years that I led the ensemble. Rehearsals were efficient and filled with musical information that needed to be digested quickly because we only had two days to rehearse instead of three. Absorbing the material is challenging when the schedule is condensed, especially for younger musicians who are unfamiliar with the repertoire.