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.

Although I used to be a regular in the Paris musical scene, once I started conducting in the Rhône-Alpes region, my activity in France has been limited to that area. Mind you, I am not complaining. The six years I spent with the Orchestre National de Lyon were among the happiest times in my musical life, and I am thrilled to return to conduct the orchestra each season.

The first thing I did, almost upon arrival, was an interview for the national newspaper Le Figaro. The lengthy piece gave me a platform to discuss many topics, several connected to my upbringing and the musical relationship I have with France. The text of the article in Cindy’s translation can be found here.

The majority of the repertoire was American, with the family theme running through both weeks. From the downbeat, when the orchestra broke into “Happy Birthday”—which then reappeared on almost all the concerts—it was clear that we were delighted to reunite.

Copland’s Third Symphony is not heard that often outside of the States, and even at home, it is sometimes hard to find. I had not gotten around to the work during my music-director years in Lyon, and now was the time to remedy that. This symphony is highly virtuosic in every sense of that word. The string writing is ferociously difficult, woodwinds have to play in all their registers, and of course, the brass are busy most of the time.

The initial play-through was a bit rough, as the musicians were unfamiliar with the work and perhaps did not know what to make of this all-encompassing American extravaganza. By the time we got to the dress rehearsal, several musicians came up to me to offer thanks for bringing the piece to them. The form and content had settled in, and we gave two excellent performances. The audience cheered the symphony, and the Franco-American relationship was strengthened.

Opening the proceedings was Cindy’s Timepiece, which will make several appearances during this season. Around eight minutes long, it makes a delightful and impactful impression, as evidenced by the vociferous audience response for the composer. As usual with Cindy’s music, this piece showcases the percussion section, and the Lyonnaise musicians were superb.

I had never worked with British cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason until this trip. He chose the dark and brooding Second Concerto by Shostakovich for his debut with the orchestra. Although not as flashy as its predecessor, it has the soulfulness that one associates with the late style of this composer. Sheku was in command and gave a compelling performance. One of his encores was a solo transcription of a Bob Marley tune.

All-American fare followed the next week, with several twists and turns. The Voyager spacecraft made a return and was very well-received by the audience and orchestra. Yours truly was represented with my first composition for orchestra, The Raven, written in 1971. A setting of five Edgar Allan Poe works for speaker and orchestra, it has been performed several times over the years, and I recorded it with Alec Baldwin and the Manhattan School of Music.

For the European premiere, we were blessed to have the brilliant French actor Lambert Wilson, who studied theater in London and is fluent in several languages. Lambert exhibited an incredible emotional range throughout the half-hour-long work as he spoke Poe’s texts in English. I hope to perform it with him again in the future.

Jennifer Gilbert, my dear friend and concertmaster of the ONL, played the Barber Concerto with great sweep and virtuosity. Her command of the structure made this an unforgettable performance. We closed with Robert Russell Bennett’s adaptation Porgy and Bess: A Symphonic Picture. For concerts in larger venues, I prefer this version over Gershwin’s Catfish Row, and you still get the banjo.

As an encore, we brought Jenny back, along with principal cellist Édouard Sapey-Triomphe. They played my father’s arrangement of the love theme from The Song of Bernadette by Alfred Newman, which Cindy adapted for concert presentation based on the original recording. It served as an emotional tribute to wrap up the Lyonnaise birthday celebrations.

Two more consecutive weeks in one place followed, this time at home. The first of them had no conducting activity but was still awfully busy.

I seem to be on track to start a new path as a lecturer, as I did four presentations, each with different subject matter. The first was for a group called the Wednesday Club of St. Louis. They have weekly talks and propose different topics to the speakers around this year’s theme of Music of the Silver Screen. My talk was on Korngold, and I used the documentary I did back in 2003 for the BBC as the main feature.

Next was a presentation via Zoom to a group of medical professionals, organized by my friend Ivan Shulman. They were curious about my life and what a conductor does in general. From my perspective, it worked very well.

I have given many talks over my career, but the third one this week was the first time I ever put together a PowerPoint presentation. The subject was Leonard Bernstein, and to condense his life into one hour was not easy. Nevertheless, I was pleased with the results, and everyone seemed to love it. Perhaps my next stop with this is on a cruise ship. Any takers?

Finally, I was host for a 40^th anniversary screening of the film Amadeus. It holds up very well. I enjoyed reacquainting myself with the play and watching both the theatrical version of the movie as well as the director’s cut. What can be better than seeing poor Salieri agonize over Mozart’s clearly superior talent and getting to eat popcorn at the same time?

Conducting returned the next week in a couple of different forms. While most of my programs this season contain a piece by Cindy, Daniel, or me, the only place where all three would occur on the same concert was St. Louis. Timepiece and Voyager 130 came back, and the new work was a group of five Scarlatti sonatas. During COVID lockdown, I wrote these transcriptions, pouring over almost all of the composer’s 550 pieces.

So many of them simply cannot be transcribed for anything other than a keyboard instrument. But a few lend themselves to other instrumental forces. I decided to use what I called an orchestral wind ensemble, so no euphoniums or saxophones. Conductors have a big advantage over composers in that they deal with orchestral sonorities up close and personal almost every day. Through careful listening and observation, we come to understand which combinations of instruments work and which do not. The job of orchestrating can come naturally to conductors.

I was quite pleased with the result. Five Sonatas for Orchestral Wind Ensemble made for an attractive grouping, and the musicians seemed to really enjoy something just a bit different. Perhaps I will embark on a second set.

Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony has always been a staple of the repertoire, but it was also one of my party pieces with the SLSO. We played and toured with this timeless classic often. Although most of the members of the orchestra today had not done it with me, and some were performing it for the first time, we got right into the groove of the piece, and hints of the distinctive sound we had back in the day came roaring back.

Daniel unveiled a huge surprise just before intermission. He had come onstage to take his bow following Voyager 130. After the second curtain call, he picked up the microphone and informed everyone that there was something additional on the program. He had composed Grand Slam Fanfare for full orchestra, and he was going to conduct it.

I was wondering when they rehearsed it. It seems that he and his wife, Bridget, had arrived two days before I was supposed to pick them up at the airport. They secretly stayed with a friend, shuttling around the city while trying to keep a low profile and remain unseen by me. He rehearsed it the same day as my first one-hour run-through of the Tchaikovsky. How did they pull this off?

My rehearsal was at 2:30 in the afternoon that Tuesday. The orchestra had performed two children’s concerts that morning, which finished at 12:30. The usual break is one hour, and I did not understand why my rehearsal was not at 1:30. I called an official, who said that a new wrinkle in the contract had them taking a two-hour break instead.

I informed them that I would arrive around 2:00. Daniel and the orchestra went through the new piece twice, starting at 1:30 and finishing up before I arrived. The staff took him to a room where he and Bridget waited until I started rehearsing. Then a car took them back to the house where they were staying.

It gets better.

The next night, I was supposed to pick them up from their flight from LA around 10:30 p.m. I arrived at the airport, and they came out of baggage claim around 10:45. We then went to our house. Someone else had taken them to the airport where they waited for me to arrive. Daniel and Bridget had their luggage, so it all seemed normal, having brought it with them from the house where they had been staying to keep up the appearance that they had just landed.

It gets better.

Written into the end of the piece is the sound of a ball coming off the baseball bat. Of course, I had no idea what was ahead as I stood there listening, but Daniel gave a little nod to the stage door and out walked legendary shortstop Ozzie Smith. He was wearing a Cardinals jersey and carrying a most unusual-looking bat. I gave him a big hug, and he just stood near Daniel as the piece continued. But Ozzie’s bat looked quite strange. That was because at a certain moment in the piece, a part of it detached to make it more like a slapstick. Daniel gave Ozzie the cue and, indeed, the crack of the bat on the ball was heard.

It gets better.

We learned that on his way to the auditorium, Ozzie and his wife, Yolanda, went to the wrong university. We were at USML, and they arrived at Lindenwood, about 15 miles away. Ozzie told Yolanda, who was driving, to step on it. She did. When asked if he was worried about being stopped by the police, he said, “No problem. I know the chief of police”. Apparently, he arrived about six minutes before he walked onstage.

As if doing the program were not enough, I also led a conducting workshop for three young maestros. They are at that point of transitioning from working with amateur, student, and community orchestras to being part of the professional world. This is possibly the most difficult part for young conductors. All of a sudden, you leave the role of teacher and begin leading musicians who have played the works of the standard canon many more times than you have conducted those pieces.

The conductors participated in meetings, sessions with individual members of the administration team, and a full rehearsal with the orchestra. By the time the three days were completed, they had a true understanding of the numerous duties required of a conductor. Armed with this information, now it is up to them to develop into the leaders I believe each can become.

It would not have been a true celebration of my 80^th year without dinners and festivities. The SLSO put together a lovely and memorable set of activities that will linger in my memory. And of course, there was plenty of cake. I cannot thank everyone in St. Louis enough for this incredible time.

With this strenuous week completed, there are more reunions ahead this month. My two other American orchestras in Detroit and Washington D.C. are on the docket. I will also conduct in Las Vegas for the first time. I will be there on election day, and it is very possible that I will go to a sports bar and watch the odds change by the minute.

Fingers crossed that America does the right thing. We do not have to make the country great again; it already is. We just have to make it even better.

See you next month,

Leonard