AMC: You left Oslo
for the Russian State Academic orchestra?
Vasily Petrenko:
I left Oslo for the Russian State Academic Orchestra in
Moscow—the former Svetlanov Orchestra—and things were going exceptionally well
for about two years. We had a full schedule of programs, ambitious plans, and
numerous tours. Then, however, the situation took a turn for the worse, and I
couldn’t see myself continuing there at that time.
Like millions of others, I have deep personal ties to the
region. My father still lives in St. Petersburg, and although my mother passed
away eight or nine years ago, her family remains in Kiev. Many families have
relatives on both sides of the border and the conflict, which makes this a very
difficult choice. We still keep in touch, exchanging letters and messages
regularly. But unfortunately, I was forced to leave the Moscow orchestra.
When asked if there’s any chance I could return to Russia,
my Vasily Petrenko is an unequivocal yes. I feel it’s my duty to go back and
help revive our cultural life when the war is over. It’s the public that
suffers the most—most artists and renowned performers are absent, and most
Russians can’t travel abroad to experience concerts. We have an obligation,
once peace returns, to restore our cultural heritage. Culture has the power to
unite us; it bridges divides and is at the very core of society. When we
appreciate and understand each other’s cultural roots, we connect on a deeper
level.
I believe this responsibility isn’t limited to Russia—it’s
also a fundamental task for Europe. Our continent is home to many
nationalities, immigrants, and refugees. The shared European culture serves as
an anchor that unites all these diverse elements, even if not every politician
sees its value. The same principle applies in Russia—but only once the guns
have finally fallen silent.
AMC: Do you usually conduct from the score?
Vasily Petrenko:
Yes, I almost always conduct from the score. There are two main reasons—even if
I know the music by heart. First, sometimes the score is enormous—50 or 60
pages long. Early in my career, I asked the musicians whether they preferred a
conductor who used the score or one who didn’t, and they told me that not using
it adds extra pressure. Besides having to keep track of every note, they worry
about what might happen if I forget something. I don’t want to add that extra
stress on them. Second, even if you know the music inside and out, it’s nearly
impossible to remember all the rehearsal numbers, cues, and bar numbers. In
those rare moments when something unexpected happens on stage, the score lets
me quickly indicate where to restart. Relying solely on memory just wouldn’t
work.
AMC: When you’re conducting during a performance—not during
a rehearsal—does your brain work on it consciously, or does it happen on a
subconscious level? What’s going on in your head?
Vasily Petrenko:
Conducting is like living in three time dimensions at once. First, there’s the
inner music I hear in my mind—whether I’m reading the score or have it
memorized. Then I have to translate that inner sound into gestures for the
orchestra. But by the time they respond, there’s a slight delay—a millisecond
or so—between what I intend and what you actually hear. Almost invariably, the
orchestra’s response is a bit different from what I imagined, and that’s
perfectly natural because they’re the ones playing. Finally, my hands and mind
work together to bridge that gap in real time. In short, you’re juggling
several layers of time during a performance, and you have to be fully engaged
at all times. It’s also a balance: you need to control things well enough to prevent
mistakes, but you also have to let the music breathe emotionally rather than
making everything overly technical. Even when I conduct something as familiar
as Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto—which I’ve performed about 25 times around the
world—I make sure my mind stays completely in the moment, avoiding distractions
like thinking about dinner.
AMC: After a performance, do you ever let criticism—like
someone saying the second movement was too fast or too slow—affect you?
Vasily Petrenko:
Not really. As performers, we know our work better than anyone else because we
experience it from the inside. It’s important to be confident, but also to
remain respectful. I have immense respect for every musician in the
orchestra—they play at a level I could never match, no matter how long I study.
I’ve tried playing many instruments, but nothing compares to the mastery of a
professional. A baton doesn’t make a sound; it’s the musicians who do. My role
is to help them bring out their best, both individually and as a group, and to
honor the composer’s vision. I always show that respect, regardless of how
confident I feel. I remember once, when I was young, I asked Sir Georg Szolti
for advice during a rehearsal with the St. Petersburg Philharmonic. He simply
said, “I hope music always remains your hobby.” And he was right—music should
always be a passion. Once it becomes just a job, you risk losing that creative
spark.
Vasily Petrenko:
Curiosity is essential, especially for orchestral musicians. It’s easy to
become set in your ways after playing the same repertoire for 15 or 20 years.
But exploring new pieces or rediscovering familiar ones from fresh angles keeps
you vibrant and inspired. Personally, I love to listen and discover—even today,
with just a couple of clicks, you can access countless recordings of any piece.
AMC: Do you notice differences in sound between
orchestras—for example, between those in Liverpool, Oslo, and the Royal
Philharmonic?
Vasily Petrenko:
Absolutely. There are definite differences, particularly between British and
Norwegian orchestras. In my experience, each orchestra reflects the spirit of
its home. The approach in Oslo is quite different from that in Britain, and
that affects how the music is interpreted. That said, having worked with all of
them, I also see many similarities.
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