MAESTRO'S MISSION

"Every conductor believes they’re the best," says Yalchin Adigozalov, a celebrated Azerbaijani artist, conductor, and teacher, with a hint of irony. It’s a sentiment that’s hard to dispute, as nearly all members of the creative intelligentsia harbour such self-assurance. However, to reach the lofty standards set by the masters of the craft, one must be relentless in their efforts, demonstrate professionalism, and dedicate themselves to the honest service of music. This dedication is where the maestro finds his purpose. As this interview was being prepared, the esteemed musician was named the chief conductor of the Niyazi State Symphony Orchestra at the Heydar Aliyev Palace.

"When you converse with a professional, regardless of their field, everyone is invariably intrigued by the intricacies and subtleties of their profession. How would you explain to a layperson what distinguishes exceptional, remarkable conductors from average, albeit solid professionals?"

"Any extraordinary artist, conductors included, is indeed a rare phenomenon. It’s crucial what kind of ambiance they can cultivate around the art they serve. A conductor devoted to Music is instantly recognizable the moment they step on stage. The concert hasn’t even started, and the hall is already filled with an aura of profound spirituality, as it’s evident that something miraculous is about to unfold. After all, the conductor is a conduit, tasked with communicating the aspirations and emotions of a composer who is likely no longer with us. Indeed, 90% of the music performed today was composed by those who are no longer earthly. The thoughts, feelings, loves, worries, and sufferings of the composer when they were creating the work - all of this transcends mere notes, symbols, and ‘scribbles’ on a score sheet - it’s vital to perceive and listen to, as they say, what lies between the lines. Our mission is to ensure that when people leave a concert or a performance, they contemplate their own thoughts through the lens of what they’ve heard. We aim to resonate with their deepest emotions, not merely ascend the conductor’s podium and wave our hand through the air. There are many who seize the conductor’s baton these days, but most are consumed with their own image, their career, their ego…

"Only a few contemplate the composer, about dedicating themselves to the grandeur of Music. Regrettably… When the likes of Karajan, Abbado, Kleiber, Mravinsky, Svetlanov, Niyazi, and Temirkanov graced the stage, an immediate sense of enchantment was felt. This is what sets a great artist apart from a merely solid professional. Although ‘professional’ is a commendable label, a great conductor must be a professional, a robust artisan, otherwise, nothing will come together. In general, this profession is enshrouded in mystery, it’s unclear to the average person what this man with a baton does. And every conductor believes they’re the best, every single one! Yes, there are the greats, and then there are those who have been faithfully serving in the theatre for years, the artisans. In Russia, they used to say ‘I serve at the theatre,’ as if it were a temple. And the theatre is indeed a temple, akin to the Philharmonic Society and the Conservatoire.

"How did you decide or desire to pursue conducting? Was it because you grew up in the musical family of the renowned composer Vasif Adigozalov?"

"Indeed, it seems my destiny was preordained. I was born into an environment of profound musical spirituality. It’s not just that my father is the composer Vasif Adigozalov, my grandfather is the khanende Zulfu Adigozalov, and I represent the third generation. From early childhood, I was surrounded by creative individuals. We resided in the House of Composers, where music emanated from every window and door throughout the year. We were privy to the works of Tofig Guliyev, Arif Melikov, Ramiz Mustafayev, Musa Mirzayev, Suleyman Alasgarov… Our famous yard on Husi Hajiyev Street (now the Azerbaijan Avenue) was where we grew up. These same individuals were our mentors, initially at school, and later at the conservatory. We were nurtured in an extraordinary environment where music was the sole topic of conversation. In close proximity were the House of Writers and the House of Artists. As children, our world revolved around art, with a slight diversion towards sports, particularly football. We were undistracted by anything else. Our parents ensured we attended concerts and plays, and we were regular visitors to the Philharmonic and the Opera House. They were deeply invested in our education, understanding that without serious training, we wouldn’t become true professionals, a goal they undoubtedly desired for us, as I do now. It pains me to comprehend the challenges a young person must face to achieve significant creative success in today’s world. For instance, my youngest son chose to pursue conducting and enrolled in the conservatory, despite my discouragement. Personally, I couldn’t imagine doing anything other than music. Trust me, this isn’t mere rhetoric. Nothing else moves me as profoundly. Perhaps only sports, or more specifically, its exhilarating moments, as there’s always a surge of adrenaline there too. A goal in football mirrors the climax in a symphony, when energy is unleashed and it stirs your heart. We step on stage for such emotions, for such instances. It could even be described as a state of discomfort. Essentially, a normal, tranquil, balanced individual wouldn’t venture on stage. It’s those who can’t live without it who will. Classical musicians, for the most part, don’t earn astronomical sums. The Almighty selects those who wish to serve Music. Some do it better, others not as well. In this regard, I was fortunate to be born into a composer’s family. My father instilled in me a love for genuine high art, for magnificent music. And I’m eternally grateful that I can carry on my father’s legacy. Had I not become a musician, I would likely have followed in my brother’s footsteps and become a doctor. But as it turned out, while he heals bodies, I strive to heal, if not the soul, then the consciousness of a person who enters the concert hall with hope. Although, to be honest, music will never rectify a thoroughly corrupt individual. A spiteful and bitter person won’t transform after a concert, they’ll remain the same. Children should be raised from a young age to appreciate good music, visit museums, and read the right books."

"Does a good conductor need to be a dictator? Is it possible to manage a large ensemble without strict control?"

"I’m not fond of the term ‘dictator’ at all. If you’re a dictator in music, you’ll be despised. A conductor who is loathed by the musicians won’t be able to get the orchestra to perform. The conductor won’t be able to involve the musicians in this process of mutual admiration. We are, in essence, expressing our love for each other on stage. If you’re referring to discipline, that’s a different matter. Without organization, you won’t achieve anything worthwhile. Discipline must be unwavering, akin to the military, but it has to start with oneself. If a conductor is skilled, organized, and self-critical, the musicians will immediately recognize this. It’s not necessary for them to love him, respect is sufficient. A conductor single-handedly manages a large ensemble, sometimes comprising 250-300 people at once. And everyone, at the wave of a baton, must submit to his will, his musical taste, his interpretation. Why? Because he is the only one they address as ‘maestro’. So, he must be slightly more educated, more talented, more charismatic. Then they will trust him and a miracle will occur. And they will detest the dictator in their hearts, the orchestra will play, of course, but they won’t live and breathe. There are many such orchestras, and one doesn’t have to look far: regrettably, it occurs here, close to us. I have not taught this to my students. The changing times set new rules of the game. It’s their karma, they’ll have to deal with it themselves."

"Is there music that one needs to mature to appreciate? Some believe that works penned by geniuses are instantly comprehensible. Is this accurate?"

"It all boils down to education, the volume of books read, and a person’s overall development. If you bring a young, unprepared individual to an exhibition of Salvador Dali, Francis Bacon, or Andy Warhol, it’s evident that they won’t grasp anything. Similarly, if you bring them to a concert hall to listen to Stravinsky’s ‘Rite of Spring’ or Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra, they’ll undoubtedly be taken aback by their lack of understanding. However… A significant number of non-musicians attend our concerts in Baku: doctors, teachers, intellectuals, young people. Our programs at the Philharmonic Society are always packed. And even if they’re not familiar with the nuances, they still express their gratitude, saying it was incredible, they got goosebumps! These ‘goosebumps’ are the highest form of appreciation for me. People begin to feel and react emotionally, purely on intuition. That’s important! And the flood of subpar music, which emanates from TV and radio screens, degrades taste, offends, and demeans the younger generation. It’s particularly distressing for me to witness this in my country, among my people. I recently performed in St. Petersburg, and I was told that prior to me, a certain singer performed for three hours to a phonogram in front of a stadium of five thousand people. You can’t classify that as music. Rabid fans blocked the streets, she wasn’t allowed to exit the car. Incidentally, she earned more from a single concert than a classical musician would in a year. This is a tragedy for an entire generation of young people, a colossal failure in mentality. And the fans of such pseudo-artists are those whose parents failed to educate their children. This is a grave issue."

"Over many years of professional activity, has the stage become your sanctuary, where you always feel serene and comfortable? Or is it akin to attending first grade each time, filled with anticipation and uncertainty?"

"There’s always a sense of anticipation, and it will persist. Perhaps over the years, you become more professional, more self-assured, because there are skills that have been honed over time, you know where to expect a pitfall, you’re prepared to foresee surprises, yes. But orchestra musicians are human beings. You can’t guarantee anyone: someone might just not be in the mood, there could be issues at home, someone might be sick, and someone might not be in the mood for music that evening. The audience doesn’t need to know that, nobody is interested in that. You might have a fever or a sore arm, but you have to go on stage and create. People don’t care, after all, they paid money, they came to enjoy themselves. But the path to the conductor’s podium is like the path to the gallows: you proceed and you don’t know what awaits you. Sometimes it happens that an unprepared concert leaves a lasting impression for many years, but there are times when a performance that has been meticulously planned simply falls apart - one mistake, another, someone entered at the wrong time, another played the wrong note, the singer ran on stage ten seconds late. All this can happen, it’s live music. You try to ensure the audience doesn’t notice it. Yes, the stage and the theatre have become our home, because it’s our territory, we feel the atmosphere, but there’s always anticipation. It seems to me, if this anticipation dissipates, it’s better not to step on stage. And it begins the day before, in the morning on that day, my family knows that it’s better not to converse with me, not to approach me, not to ask unnecessary questions. This is all part of the cost of the profession."

"What pieces of the Azerbaijani symphonic music you consider a pinnacle you will never be able to reach professionally? The ones that can be compared to world masterpieces by significance and depth..."

"Well, undoubtedly our symphonic mughams. The crown will always belong to the unparalleled score—Maestro Niyazi’s magnum opus, the symphonic mugham Rast. It’s one of the masterpieces of classical symphonic music of the 20th century, comparable to the music of Ravel, Debussy, and Impressionist composers! It’s steeped in the national colour of mugham and crafted in the finest traditions of the Western European school of composition. Truly genius music! Of course, Fikret Amirov and his symphonic mughams ‘Shur’, ‘Kurd Ovshary’, and ‘Bayaty-Shiraz’, too. The score of Vasif Adigozalov’s ‘Segah’.

"As to staged works, then, of course, it includes everything by the genius Uzeyir Hajibayov. We all owe him, we are grateful to him, and we should visit his grave every day and bow deeply. He was the one who nurtured Garayev, Amirov, and Niyazi. The older generation of composers, including Jovdat Hajiyev, Soltan Hajibayov, Rauf Hajiyev. Then the middle generation, including Arif Melikov, Vasif Adigozalov, Khayyam Mirzazade, Musa Mirzayev, Aqshin Alizade, Azer Rzayev, and many others. And all this is the merit of Uzeyir-bey! ‘Leili and Majnun’ is a textbook, the opera ‘Koroghlu’ can be staged on any stage in the world, in Metropolitan Opera, Grand Opera, in Covent Garden… But we still haven’t done it, the world doesn’t know ‘Koroghlu’, ‘Sevil’, although in terms of their dramaturgy and musical material these works are not inferior to works by Verdi and Puccini. Believe me, we can put them on the same level as the great Italian operas. The ballets ‘Seven Beauties’ and ‘Path of Thunder’ by Garayev, ‘1001 Nights’ by Amirov are worthy of the best stages of the world, and thank God that Melikov’s ‘Legend of Love’ has been performed in all the world’s leading theatres. Finally, after half a century, it returned to Azerbaijan. It is also a paradox, a hypocritical, pathetic farce, which is impossible not to talk about. And it is shameful to talk about it, too. But it happened with the tacit consent of officials responsible for our culture… There is nothing to be proud of, it is not a glorious page in the history of Azerbaijani music: for almost half a century the ballet was performed all over the world, except in Azerbaijan. Why? But this is no longer a question for me."

"If you were preparing a concert for a symphonic orchestra, what would you include in your programme?"

"As a conductor, I would ensure to include music by composers from different eras, styles, and schools of composition. For example, I love to play Bach and Schnittke, or Stravinsky and Rimsky-Korsakov in the same concert. Or this model - Shostakovich, Garayev and Adigozalov, or Shostakovich, Garayev and Melikov. There is a lot of interest in these programmes, especially in the former Soviet Union. I travel a lot around the former Soviet republics, so I can judge. So, this format - grandfather, father and grandchildren - is very well received. In fact, when Dmitri Shostakovich came to Baku, he called all of Garayev’s pupils his grandchildren. He used to say that Garayev studied with me and you studied with Garayev. I try to involve very young composers in the programme, for example Ayaz Gambarli. And, of course, it is very important when the works of our composers are performed by musicians from other countries. For example, recently there was a concert in Kiev, and two romances - ‘Ölkəm’ by Asaf Zeynalli and ‘Arzu’ by Niyazi - were performed by a soloist of the Kiev State Opera and Ballet Theatre… in Azerbaijani language. It was amazing. It is very important to bring our culture to other countries. Last year we played Vasif Adigozalov's Third Piano Concerto with great success in Rio de Janeiro with a Brazilian pianist. And he chose my father's concerto himself, I didn't know about that."

"We often find ourselves comparing the past with the present, believing that the grass was greener, sugar was sweeter, and the sun shone brighter. What aspects of Azerbaijan’s musical life were definitively better 30 years ago? And what was worse? What current developments in the country’s music life you find intimidating?"

"Thirty years ago, we were in the midst of chaos, focusing on preserving our culture and maintaining institutions not originally established by us, such as the symphony orchestra founded by Uz. Hajibayov. As a young conductor, I was called from Vienna to serve as the chief conductor of the symphony orchestra because everyone else had fled. Conductors, musicians… At that time, the salary was a mere US$20, while musicians in Türkiye were earning US$2,000. During the hardest times, when we teetered on the brink of civil war, our colleagues sought refuge abroad, only to return to what we had managed to preserve, working without pay in unheated halls. If we had also left, we would have created an irreplaceable void. However, times have changed, and our musicians now have the freedom to perform at the world’s finest venues, with our vocalists achieving particular success. Undoubtedly, the audience 30 years ago was different, raised in Soviet traditions and on classical music. Elite art has always been appreciated by a select group of listeners, and we never anticipated mass appeal. Our goal is simply to maintain a high standard of quality, which will attract people to concert halls. I often decline to conduct a concert if I believe that we cannot achieve a high standard. Only quality and professionalism will ensure our survival. Everything else will be forgotten, but great scores, books, and paintings will endure."

"Could you name three musicians, conductors, or composers who have influenced your life choices?"

"Three individuals have shaped my life path. First is my father, Vasif Adigozalov, who remains my idol and the greatest authority in my life. I converse with him daily, even now. He is my guiding light, and I am eternally grateful for his presence in my life. Next is Maestro Niyazi, whose charisma and mentorship have been invaluable. He launched my career and introduced me to my other brilliant teacher, Ilya Alexandrovich Musin, a legendary teacher and conductor. I had the privilege of studying under Musin in St Petersburg for five years. These three extraordinary individuals have greatly influenced my choices, and I hold their memory dear."

"What are conductor Yalchin Adigozalov’s dreams?"

"Yalchin Adigozalov dreams of constructing an ultra-modern, luxurious concert hall in his hometown of Shusha. He envisions inviting the world’s best orchestras and soloists to the annual Khary Bulbul festival, where they could perform masterpieces of world classics in Shusha. He hopes for the swift completion of the renovation of the Opera and Ballet Theatre so that we can revive our outstanding operas and ballets. He takes pride in being the first conductor from Azerbaijan to perform on the renowned Arena di Verona stage, where ten thousand spectators listened to Azerbaijani music for two hours in the open air. Our music is heard worldwide, and every year in Brazil, where I serve as a guest conductor for the Rio orchestra, as well as in Cape Town, Mexico, Israel, the Czech Republic, Vietnam, our music is recognized. However, we must work diligently and intensively to ensure that Azerbaijani composers’ music is performed in all its glory at the world’s premier venues. This is my mission. And one more piece of advice – please immerse yourself in great music and appreciate high art."