Director Krzysztof Warlikowski gives first insights into his production of Dido and Aeneas ... Erwartung: The combination of Henry Purcell’s baroque opera and Arnold Schönberg’s monodrama composed more than 200 years later has its premiere on January 29th at the Nationaltheater.

The first version of Engelbert Humperdinck’s fairy tale opera was premiered on January 23, 1897 in Munich’s Hoftheater under the musical direction of Hugo Röhr. After the success of Hänsel und Gretel four years earlier, the composer was looking for a text for a comic opera with a popular touch, which was ultimately provided by Elsa Agnes Bernstein, daughter of Humperdinck’s Munich friend Heinrich Porges.

In the years that followed, this melodrama version found its way onto the opera stages of Vienna, Prague, Berlin, Riga, London, Dublin and New York, but disappeared from the repertoire after 1902. The composer revised his melodrama into the through-composed version of the opera known today, for which the text was thoroughly reduced and simplified. Finally, in 1910, this second version was premiered at the Metropolitan Opera in New York.

Photo credit: Archiv Bayerische Staatsoper / Hof-Atelier Elvira München

On January 20, 2023, OPERcussion performed in the Muffathalle and presented their new CD “Original Grooves”.

On January 14th, 1823, the National Theater burned. Although the accident happened during a packed evening performance, nobody was hurt. Warm brewing water from the surrounding breweries was used to extinguish the fire, since the water used by the fire brigade froze in the syringes. The building could not be saved from the flames, but was reopened two years later.

Photo credit: Münchner Stadtmuseum, collection of graphics / paintings P-1134
Artist: unknown; Wolfgang Pulfer (repro)

At the 3rd chamber concert on January 15th, 2023, the OperaBrass ensemble will present a program in the Allerheiligen Hofkirche that is reminiscent of the beginnings of the Bavarian State Orchestra in the 16th century, when the Munich court orchestra at that time was used especially to represent the Bavarian dukes. A chronicler’s report is dated December 10th, 1565 and refers to the heyday of the Munich court orchestra at the time of Albrecht V: “they had three kinds of music during supper: [...] first played on cornetts and trombones, the other sung by several singers, accompanied by fifes and trombones. The third of 5 flutes and a trombone”. The composer Orlando di Lasso, who was already highly regarded internationally at the time, had been engaged to conduct the court orchestra two years earlier, and his pupil Giovanni Gabrieli also worked in Munich a few years later. A polychoral composition by Gabrieli was already heard at the 3rd Academy Concert in 2023 – also performed by brass players from the Byerische Staatsorchester.

Photo credit: Magdalena König

Photo creddit: Wilfried Hösl

The anniversary year of the Bayerische Staatsorchester is ushered in with a ceremony. General Music Director Vladimir Jurowski conducts music by composers whose selections offer a glimpse of the orchestra’s formidable history: Four of Richard Wagner’s operas were premiered in Munich by the Bayerische Staatsorchester, among which one boasts particularly festive sounds: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.

500 years ago, Ludwig Senfl, as musicus intonator or musicus primarius, and a few year-round musicians were engaged by the Bavarian Duke Wilhelm IV to collect sheet music, build up a repertoire and perform both ecclesiastical and secular music: this is the birth of an orchestra that was later also presided over by Orlando di Lasso. The popularity of Lasso’s music among Renaissance contemporaries and the composer’s historical significance for music history can hardly be overestimated. Lasso’s last work Lagrime di San Pietro bears impressive witness to this.

But Richard Strauss also conducted the Bayerische Staatsorchester for two years, and the scores of two of his operas were breathed life into for the first time by the Bayerische Staatsorchester. An Alpine Symphony represents the composer’s last symphonic poem and, in its impressive depiction of the ascent and descent of a mountain hike through a gigantic orchestral apparatus, makes programmatic reference to the Bavarian foothills of the Alps.

Photo creddits: Archiv der Musikalischen Akademie

Photo Credit: Archiv der Musikalischen Akademie

Photo Credits: Archiv der Musikalischen Akademie

Armin Nassehi

Prof. Dr. Armin Nassehi has held the chair at the Institute of Sociology at the Ludwig Maximilian Uni-versity of Munich since 1998, specialising in the sociology of culture, political sociology, sociology of religion, sociology of knowledge and sociology of science. His latest book publications: Das große Nein. Eigendynamik und Tragik des gesellschaftlichen Protests (Hamburg 2020) and Unbehagen. Theorie der überforderten Gesellschaft (München 2021). A passionate musician himself, he has often written es-says for the Bayerische Staatsoper and participated in many events.

Anyone wanting to gain a comprehensive overview of an orchestra’s working me-thods will do so exclusively by glancing up at the stage or down into the pit. Only when we look closely will it become clear very quickly that as institutions orchest-ras are based on the principle of the division of labour and made up of many spe-cialists, male and female, each of whose fields of competence and praxis must be expressed symphonically. As such, an orchestra is a preeminent symbol of the way in which a group of specialized individuals, all of whom are simultaneously doing something different in real time and whose activities need to be coordina-ted, can produce something unified. In turn, however, this unity can be achieved only through the carefully preordained coordination of its members’ individual actions. The result is something that can hardly be attributed to a single individual any longer. The powerful figure of the conductor – in the twentieth century, above all, an almost heroic figure and generally a man – ensures that the musici-ans’ individual activities and abilities are subsumed within a greater, universal whole, with the result that it is the conductor, above all, who is credited with the orchestra’s capacity for working as a collective in the symphonic repertory. In his sociological study of music Adorno wrote mockingly about the conductor who, craving recognition, has to conceal the fact that he (or she) is not working at all but merely cultivating a cult that is centred around his (or her) own person. Closer to the truth is no doubt the view that an orchestra is such an intricate entity that it requires a third party to weld together its complex individual sections and create a single whole.
This glance up at the stage and down into the pit reveals the institution of the orchestra, with all of its structural complexities and historical development, to be the performative reflection of complex musical forms that would not exist wit-hout a body of players based on the principle of the division of labour. This prin-ciple is taken to extreme lengths here and, as such, it is a radically modern inven-tion. Long before this principle was introduced into industrial production, into the structures of state administration and into organizational logistics, it was above all the orchestra that had to subsume within itself the concepts of specialization and coordination, functioning as a single pillar and as the totality of society and reconciling individuality and collectivity, differentiation and integration. Anyone who is surprised that such an orchestral form, which is already five hundred years old, has survived for so long may care to bear in mind that this form of social or-ganization was already in advance of ist time, the harbinger of a society whose inner differences and complex variety may not be symphonically integrated but which is all the more conscious in consequence of the problem of coordinating its actions. One could even go further and describe the symphony orchestra, with its particular, timeless form, as a parable of a social model that is capable of reconci-ling individual abilities, specialisms and characteristics with the need for those actions to be coordinated.
We can also redirect our gaze from the stage or pit to the concert hall or to the opera house. In research into the emergence of “publics” that has been conduc-ted in the fields of both history and the social sciences, concerts, opera perfor-mances and chamber recitals are regarded as early settings in which such “publics” have evolved – the same is true of salons and the theatre. In music es-pecially it can be shown that the change from the sort of performance practices associated with the court and with the Church to the practices bound up with the middle classes not only altered the way in which music as an art form saw itself but also led to its increasing independence and, more especially, to the reason for giving concerts in the first place. Courtly praxis had been geared to providing an introduction to the refinements and distinctive lifestyle of the aristocracy, but the middle-class types of performance that opened up in towns and cities brought with them a completely new kind of public. Music migrated from its court-ly setting to concert halls and opera houses, whose sole function was to mount performances and where Baroque and Classical elements survived only as deco-rative adjuncts.
Only once this last-named type of praxis was established did the audience ac-quire a decisive significance. Unlike performances at court and in church, those that took place in public concert halls brought together strangers who may have remained strangers in terms of most of the aspects of their personality but who were held together by a common focus that allowed them to engage in conversa-tion about the success or otherwise of the performance, about the character of the music, about the more notable features of the conductor, about the critical reviews and about the latest political and economic news and all that was happe-ning in society at large. As a result the middle-class concert hall also represents a way of preparing for public life. In the past, middle-class audiences were also a reading public that could create the sense of a public in these encounters preci-sely because their reading matter was similar and the store of their knowledge was calculable. This knowledge could be communicated in a way that was impar-tial but committed, it could be disinterested or interested, and it could be contro-versial while allowing the participants to agree to disagree. It is also possible that the journey to the concert hall, the breaks between the pieces and the gossip about absent members of the audience first lent the concert experience the cha-racter of a social whole. Concerts were an opportunity for middle-class society to discover itself, even if this was true of only a small carrier group. Here it was no classless society that discovered itself but a class with distinctive features. The result may not have been a democratic agora but there was still the ability to face up to controversies and to encounter other people. There was no attempt to reach a consensus but these conditions still provided a chance to acquire the ability to deal with differences of opinion.
The practices associated with these middle-class performances may be said, therefore, to constitute an exercise in public life inasmuch as the forms of social distance that were cultivated here in ways found in few other places could be practised despite all of the points in common – and this is true even of those pe-riods when expressions of public life involved a high degree of political confor-mism. There is some disagreement as to whether we should regard the concert, the middle-class salon or the theatre as a blueprint for political forms of public life under later (nation-)states, but what is undisputed is that symphonic practices presuppose a public that submits itself to public observation and cultivates cor-responding forms of coordinating actions among strangers. Full-time orchestras – or at least the ones in Germany that are supported or even run by central or local government – continue to be seen as a regular part of our cultural lives. his, too, represents a reminiscence of this model of public life as part of a public spectacle. Here the complexity of the orchestra is merely the corresponding equivalent of a significant and persistent praxis – and in a pluralistic, de-mocratized, egalitarian and, last but not least, globalized culture, it is no longer the exclusive place on whose reflection it continues to feed. Yet it is very much this circumstance that makes it all the more significant and remarkable that it has retained such a stable form, a form which, despite its chronic structure, does not appear to be becoming anachronistic. Perhaps the reason for this state of affairs lies in the fact that both were ahead of their times when they came into exis-tence: the orchestra as an untypically complex example of the principle of the distribution or labour and its audience as a community of strangers engaged in conversation. Ad multos annos!

The year 1523 marks the beginning of institutionalized music-making in the instrumental association at the Bavarian court; This was the nucleus of today’s Bavarian State Orchestra, which can now look back on five hundred years of history.

In 1523, probably in the spring, the musician Ludwig Senfl, who was known throughout Europe and had worked for Emperor Maximilian I until his death in 1519, entered the service of Duke Wilhelm IV of Wittelsbach “Expansion of court music” (Dr. Stefan Gasch), in two respects. On the one hand, the music required at court and in the ducal church service was placed on a new basis with a tribe of permanent members. For example, Senfl hired Johannes Steudel, trombonist, about whom it is noted: “Receives 100 Gld. rhein. per year, for 1 horse fodder, 2 court clothes and 3 bushels of grain”, “Steudel shall be the leader among the trombonists”. On the other hand, a pool of written works that were composed for specific occasions was gradually formed. This also made it necessary for all participants to be able to read music (rather than improvising in three parts, as was the case in earlier practice); both aspects are therefore directly related. In addition to the services in the liturgical area, the instrumentalists of the court orchestra also denied festivities such as balls and state visits, contributed table music at banquets and provided the accentuation of important moments at state events with fanfares.

In 1523, therefore, two major developments began: on the one hand, the professionalization of the musicians’ staff, on the other hand, the development of a lasting repertoire - both of which are claims that the Bavarian State Orchestra still makes its own today.

Photo credit: Hans Wertinger, Herzog Wilhelm IV. von Bayern Rückseite: Wappen Bayern-Baden und Devise, 1526, Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen – Alte Pinakothek München

Why 1523?

The year 1523 marks the beginning of institutionalized music-making in the instrumental association at the Bavarian court; This was the nucleus of today’s Bavarian State Orchestra, which can now look back on five hundred years of history.

In 1523, probably in the spring, the musician Ludwig Senfl, who was known throughout Europe and had worked for Emperor Maximilian I until his death in 1519, entered the service of Duke Wilhelm IV of Wittelsbach “Expansion of court music” (Dr. Stefan Gasch), in two respects. On the one hand, the music required at court and in the ducal church service was placed on a new basis with a tribe of permanent members. For example, Senfl hired Johannes Steudel, trombonist, about whom it is noted: “Receives 100 Gld. rhein. per year, for 1 horse fodder, 2 court clothes and 3 bushels of grain”, “Steudel shall be the leader among the trombonists”. On the other hand, a pool of written works that were composed for specific occasions was gradually formed. This also made it necessary for all participants to be able to read music (rather than improvising in three parts, as was the case in earlier practice); both aspects are therefore directly related. In addition to the services in the liturgical area, the instrumentalists of the court orchestra also denied festivities such as balls and state visits, contributed table music at banquets and provided the accentuation of important moments at state events with fanfares.

In 1523, therefore, two major developments began: on the one hand, the professionalization of the musicians’ staff, on the other hand, the development of a lasting repertoire - both of which are claims that the Bavarian State Orchestra still makes its own today.

Photo credit: Hans Wertinger, Herzog Wilhelm IV. von Bayern Rückseite: Wappen Bayern-Baden und Devise, 1526, Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen – Alte Pinakothek München

A brief look back at the rich history of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester reveals an orchestra that is more than the sum of its parts.

Holger Noltze

The slogan “One for all and all for one” may initially remind us of football but it is in fact taken from Alexandre Dumas’ timeless novel The Three Musketeers, which was written before the invention of football as a sport. These words express the individual’s unconditional commitment to the collective and his (or her) willingness to subordinate the particular to the general. This beautiful idea can be applied with arguably even greater justification to music-making as part of an ensemble. In football it is ultimately only the goals that count, so everything depends on the player who scores those goals. Fencing, too, could be said to be first and fore-most a solo discipline. But making music together involves a deeper truth: indivi-dual excellence must be acknowledged as part of a greater whole. Players must be able to listen and, where necessary, step back from the limelight. It is this abili-ty that marks out the true artist within the collective. Indeed, it is this that decides the quality of a body of musicians – not that this precludes either the appeal or the principle of contrapuntal polyphony. This principle has always been a promi-nent feature of the long and glorious history of what is now the Bayerisches Staatsorchester, formerly known as the Munich Hofkapelle and, five hundred years ago, as the Munich Kantorei. The appointment of that brilliant master of polyphony, Ludwig Senfl, as musicus intonator in 1523 marks the beginning of one of the world’s longest orchestral histories. Although Duke Albrecht V may have had a reputation as a man who suffered from melancholia, it was his artistic un-derstanding and farsightedness that inspired him to appoint the cosmopolitan Flemish composer Roland de Lassus – known in Italian as Orlando di Lasso – as tenor secundus at his court in 1556. By 1563 Lasso was the maestro della musica di camera and the Kantorei’s principal composer. As the master of a new vocal and instrumental style of composition, he opened up the prospect of a new sym-phonic approach to music that still lay far in the future. In short, there is a long line linking this period with Wagner’s ideal of the sort of sonorities that are found in his later music dramas. The Munich Hofkapelle has had the honour of premiering not only Mozart’s Idomeneo but also Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde – a work that changed the course of musical history – and his Meistersinger von Nürnberg.
But the orchestra was also instrumental in bringing about a shift in attitudes to middle-class culture. The Academy Concerts that were established to promote symphonic music date back to 1811. Over two centuries later, the orchestra is still organizing these concerts. After all, the players are able to perform not only ope-ras. They began with a symphony in D major by an as yet relatively little-known composer by the name of Beethoven. The list of the conductors – some of them among the greatest practitioners of their art – who have headed this special and long-standing artists’ collective, which since 1918 has been known as the Bayeri-sches Staatsorchester, is a lengthy one and extends from Franz Lachner, Hans von Bülow, Hermann Levi and Richard Strauss to Bruno Walter, Hans Knapperts-busch, Georg Solti, Rudolf Kempe, Joseph Keilberth, Wolfgang Sawallisch, Zubin Mehta, Kent Nagano, Kirill Petrenko and, most recently, Vladimir Jurowski: an almost intimidating roll of honour stretching back over five centuries and starting out with Orlando di Lasso.
A further long-standing aspect of the orchestra’s activities has been its travels in the form of extended tours across Europe and to Asia. Its special interplay of venerable tradition and its desire to embrace the new may be heard in the world’s great centres of music, including Carnegie Hall, the Elbphilharmonie and Lucer-ne’s Culture and Congress Centre. For the eighth year in a row and the tenth time in all, the Bayerisches Staatsorchester has recently been named "Orchestra of the Year“ in a poll conducted among fifty international music critics for Opernwelt magazine. It is no surprise, therefore, that the orchestra has sought to document its successful performances on its own label, Bayerische Staatsoper Recordings. Its very first releases were showered with prestigious prizes, including no fewer than four Gramophone Awards. Its work in preserving the past through the medi-um of recordings has met with an entirely positive response.
We should not forget that with music-making, too, the truth is to be found “on the field”. The individuals who make up the team must learn to submit to a single figu-re. At least for as long as the music is still playing.

The Bayerisches Staatsorchester is remarkable for its fascinatingly varied reper-tory, its multifarious forms of artistic expression and its multiple activities.

Ruth Renée Reif

“Fear! … a deep-seated sense of fear and, time and again, the question as to how the various orchestral departments will survive and what effect it will have on their nerves when the timpani launch an assault on the violas and double basses?” This was Gerd Albrecht’s anxious question when conducting Aribert Reimann’s Lear. But then came the surprising answer: the Bayerisches Staatsorchester accepted this music in a characteristic spirit of professionalism and impassioned commit-ment. It knows how to deal with the problem that arises when the flutes are asked to negotiate keenly strident intervals while accompanying a shimmering pianissi-mo in the violins and violas and a tintinnabulation of jingles, cymbals and a triangle and trumpets add their fanfares not only in the orchestra pit but also in the audi-torium. Always willing to confront the unfamiliar and the new, the orchestra casts its spell on its audiences with its mystical sounds and ecstatic highs, while also captivating them with ist subtle delicacy and lyric enchantment. It revels in Ro-mantic melodies but retains the ability to explore a world of rhythmic brutality and austerity, indulging in beautiful sounds, paying tribute to the spirit of virtuosity and to a universe of noise and inviting audiences to immerse themselves in worlds of sound that allow it to function as a psychological sounding board.
The operatic repertory of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester is characterized by its variety. Every evening there is a different work from a different period on its schedule. And the orchestra has the ability to bring every composition to life and to transform music that was written only yesterday – or several centuries ago – into joy, sadness and tragedy. It is with openness and inquisitiveness that it rises to the challenge of exchanging its modern instruments for their Baroque equiva-lent and following the conductor not on his or her podium but seated at a harpsi-chord. Its players study old scores and are happy to try out novel performance techniques. It is with sheer bravura that it returns to a period that it helped to shape centuries ago, when the singers onstage fought sea monsters or the enti-re stage, including its performers and dancers, was relocated to a raft on the River Isar so that a spectacular sea battle could be enacted there.
Past experiences live on, leaving their mark on the players and overwriting their history in the manner of a palimpsest, while leaving btraces of earlier layers. Nothing is ever completely forgotten. Just as something is invariably left over from every good relationship, so each experience leaves behind a residue that continues to exist in unseen ways, emerging only when it is required to do so. Their exploration of so many different musical landscapes creates a variety that pushes back the horizon even further. Just as the orchestra’s engagement with Classical and Romantic works makes it easier for its players to understand indivi-dual styles on the cusp of tonality and beyond, so their work on contemporary scores allows them to take a fresh look at the classics.
The variety of the Bayerisches Staatsorchester is also reflected in the range and depth of its programmes as well as in the manifold forms that its activities take, activities that it invariably pursues with passion. When Octavian presents a silver rose to Sophie, this scene is accompanied not only by radiant harmonies on a celesta, two harps and a glockenspiel, turning this moment into an event of the highest order, the score’s complex rhythms and kinetic textures extend beyond the performers’ voices and envelop the rose in an aura of elaborate intervals and ingenious turns of phrase. Dance theatre also represents a significant field of activity for the orchestra, and just as its operatic repertory extends from the Baroque to the great Romantic works and the present day, so it accompanies the entire range of choreographic works for the theatre, opening up a vast panorama that extends from dance episodes from the Baroque to the classical ballets of the nineteenth century, the works that were created in the twentieth century and projects involving the contemporary avant-garde.
The prospect of being able to work on projects that no other house can attempt draws international choreographers to Munich’s Nationaltheater. “Here we can play music that demands a great and outstanding orchestra,” says choreographer Jörg Mannes in the context of his adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. And so Ariel can chase the stranded seafarers over the stage as dogs, jackals and tigers, while jagged intervals rise up out of the crowded orchestra pit. The fact that the orchestra is an equal partner in ballet performances is underscored by the work of choreographers in which the dancers visualize the music. While the orchestra performs works from the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centu-ries, the dancers respond by adopting the appropriate dance idioms. And so the enchantment associated with mystery is cast over the stage when the dancers respond to a musical explosion in the pit with expressive concentration.
Finally, whenever the Bayerisches Staatsorchester invites audiences to its Academy Concerts, the Nationaltheater is transformed into what Wolfgang Sa-wallisch is once called “Munich’s most beautiful concert hall”. On these occasions the orchestra is literally centre-stage. These concerts, which are now a local in-stitution, can be traced back to a time when a major concert was held every Wed-nesday at Nymphenburg. The symphonic repertory that has been performed throughout these years is correspondingly vast and varied. And new works are added each year, in many cases commissions by the Bayerische Staatsoper that are receiving their first performances.
But it is the chamber concerts that cover the greatest historical range, a circum-stance due in part to the fact that the Bayerisches Staatsorchester was originally a chamber ensemble and in part because its members explore the whole spect-rum of music at their chamber concerts, taking a particular interest in the period from the early twentieth century to the present day but also going back in time to the Baroque and the Renaissance. They also engage with remote corners of the repertory and enjoy experimentation. In this way they have sought to establish connections with other arts, including literature, and with other cultures, including Far Eastern sounds and African polyrhythms. Every department of the orchestra takes part in these activities, exploring traditional chamber formations such as the string quartet and the piano trio but also investigating other resources, inclu-ding flute, oboe, english horn, clarinet and bassoon or flute and percussion or oboe, bass clarinet and piano. Nor do they shy away from novel performance techniques, holding their string instruments as they would hold a guitar, for exa-mple.
This range culminates each year in the Munich Opera Festival, when the Bayeri-sches Staatsorchester is challenged in the whole range of its activities from an opera and ballet orchestra to concerts that are a part of its Academy Concert series, specially mounted Festival concerts and chamber recitals.
Yet the most valuable tool in this varied arsenal is the people who over the centu-ries have breathed life into this ensemble and who have allowed it to grow artisti-cally. Evening after evening the individual members of the orchestra contribute to its profile and to ist brilliant success with their own cultural background, their indi-vidual life stories, their abilities and their experience. The creativity, commitment and talents of the musicians in the pit and on the podium have resulted in the strength that has kept this wonderful orchestra alive through wars, political uphe-avals, fires and the repeated loss of its instruments. It is this strength that also guarantees the orchestra’s future.

Photo creddit: Archiv der Musikalischen Akademie

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Als „Akademien“ wurden schon im 18. und 19. Jahrhundert (oft privat organisierte) Konzerte bezeichnet. Der Münchner Verein Musikalische Akademie e. V. wurde 1811 aus der Mitte des damaligen Hofopernorchesters gegründet. Damit etablierten die Musiker die erste symphonische Konzertreihe Münchens.

Anders als beim Festakt enthält das Programm des 3. Akademiekonzertes ein zweichörig komponiertes Instrumentalwerk des venezianischen Komponisten Giovanni Gabrieli, der in München bei Orlando di Lasso studierte und als Schlüsselfigur an der Schwelle von Renaissance- zu Barockmusik später selbst Komponistengrößen wie Heinrich Schütz unterrichten sollte.

Das Bayerische Staatsorchester erhält nicht nur die großen Werke der letzten Jahrhunderte am Leben, sondern fühlt sich auch der Neuen Musik verpflichtet: Nachdem es unter seinem Generalmusikdirektor Vladimir Jurowski 2020 bereits sehr erfolgreich Brett Deans Testament aufgeführt und im hauseigenen CD-Label Bayerische Staatsoper Recordings veröffentlicht hatte, folgt jetzt die Uraufführung einer Auftragskomposition bei dem australischen Komponisten: Nocturnes and Night Rides. Mit den diesjährigen Münchner Opernfestspielen kommt außerdem seine Oper Hamlet auf die Bühne des Nationaltheaters. 

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