I hope that many will comment sadly on this news. Levine’s death is a considerable loss to the musical world. His recordings and artistic legacy are of the same importance as they always were, something surely not altered by the dark side of the man, a side widely known about and not addressed for decades, by all accounts.
Robert Matthew-Walker
on March 18, 2021 at 1:46 am
I have hesitated to post a comment about Jimmy Levine, as the lurid claims against him have tended to overshadow his considerable achievements as a musician, although no criminal charges were ever brought for any of the accusations he faced.
I was at RCA in London in 1975 when Levine was signed to the label, responsible for issuing his first recordings – the first being his Mahler 1 with the LSO, produced by the great Charles Gerhardt.
I was overwhelmed by this performance – its subtleties and detail, its total grasp of the work – I have never heard a more truly understanding and moving account.
But I was so horrified by the original American cover – a dark action photograph of Levine – that I felt it could not be used in Britain. I replaced it with a picture based on one Ken Russell had used for his contemporaneous Mahler film starring Robert Powell – flames arising from a lake – and put a black and white picture of Jimmy relaxing in a chair on the back cover. I sold the LP at half price for three months.
Jimmy returned to London to record Mahler 6 with the LSO and came to my office with his brother Tom. ‘Why did you take my picture off the front cover?’ he said.
‘You are unknown in Europe, Jimmy’, I repIied, ‘and the picture does you no favours’
‘Why not?’ he asked.
I had to answer truthfully: ‘If I’m going to sell you, you have to lose weight. I have to establish some kind of acceptable image of you for British music-lovers and musicians, to whom you are an unknown quantity. Your Mahler 1 is magnificent, but in selling it in a crowded market here your picture on the American LP is a positive turn off.’
‘No-one has ever spoken to my brother like that’, Tom said.
‘Well, Tom, it’s about time they did. Jimmy, I’m telling you this for what I truly believe is your own good – and for the good of the company for which I work that is investing heavily in your career.’
The record was a tremendous success – with over 8,000 copies sold within five weeks of release. The reviews were uniformly excellent, and two months later, I got a call from James Levine in New York. ‘Bob,’ he said, ‘you were right: Tom Shepard can’t believe you sold so many Mahler 1s. I have started a diet plan, but it’s not proving too good.’
I saw Levine conduct a stunning Eugene Onegin at the Met with Sherrill Milnes a year or so later – backstage, he said to me, ‘Bob, I’ve tried many diets but I can’t lose weight – what should I do?’
‘Carry on being a great conductor, Jimmy.’ And that that was the last time I spoke to him. A truly fine musician – but his life was always his own.
Mention of a performance of Mahler 6 above may coincide with my attending the concert at the RFH. I recall
he took a fast and furious tempo for the first movement which has never been to my liking. He seemed to emulate Bernstein in this regards and wonder who influenced who?!
Robert Matthew-Walker
on March 18, 2021 at 12:57 pm
Yes, the tempo is fast – but Levine saw that first movement as a self portrait: the opening march rhythm being Mahler striding through the streets of Vienna, the hiatus on the last beat of the bar depicting Mahler’s own slight limp – and of course the second subject depicts the ever-passionate Alma. Levine’s view of this music was that it is a terrifying glimpse into the future – that first movement is an unstoppable force, with the LSO playing to a standard I have rarely heard since. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but a valid artistic and interpretative view. There is nothing else like it on disc from anyone, before or since.
I hope that many will comment sadly on this news. Levine’s death is a considerable loss to the musical world. His recordings and artistic legacy are of the same importance as they always were, something surely not altered by the dark side of the man, a side widely known about and not addressed for decades, by all accounts.
I have hesitated to post a comment about Jimmy Levine, as the lurid claims against him have tended to overshadow his considerable achievements as a musician, although no criminal charges were ever brought for any of the accusations he faced.
I was at RCA in London in 1975 when Levine was signed to the label, responsible for issuing his first recordings – the first being his Mahler 1 with the LSO, produced by the great Charles Gerhardt.
I was overwhelmed by this performance – its subtleties and detail, its total grasp of the work – I have never heard a more truly understanding and moving account.
But I was so horrified by the original American cover – a dark action photograph of Levine – that I felt it could not be used in Britain. I replaced it with a picture based on one Ken Russell had used for his contemporaneous Mahler film starring Robert Powell – flames arising from a lake – and put a black and white picture of Jimmy relaxing in a chair on the back cover. I sold the LP at half price for three months.
Jimmy returned to London to record Mahler 6 with the LSO and came to my office with his brother Tom. ‘Why did you take my picture off the front cover?’ he said.
‘You are unknown in Europe, Jimmy’, I repIied, ‘and the picture does you no favours’
‘Why not?’ he asked.
I had to answer truthfully: ‘If I’m going to sell you, you have to lose weight. I have to establish some kind of acceptable image of you for British music-lovers and musicians, to whom you are an unknown quantity. Your Mahler 1 is magnificent, but in selling it in a crowded market here your picture on the American LP is a positive turn off.’
‘No-one has ever spoken to my brother like that’, Tom said.
‘Well, Tom, it’s about time they did. Jimmy, I’m telling you this for what I truly believe is your own good – and for the good of the company for which I work that is investing heavily in your career.’
The record was a tremendous success – with over 8,000 copies sold within five weeks of release. The reviews were uniformly excellent, and two months later, I got a call from James Levine in New York. ‘Bob,’ he said, ‘you were right: Tom Shepard can’t believe you sold so many Mahler 1s. I have started a diet plan, but it’s not proving too good.’
I saw Levine conduct a stunning Eugene Onegin at the Met with Sherrill Milnes a year or so later – backstage, he said to me, ‘Bob, I’ve tried many diets but I can’t lose weight – what should I do?’
‘Carry on being a great conductor, Jimmy.’ And that that was the last time I spoke to him. A truly fine musician – but his life was always his own.
Mention of a performance of Mahler 6 above may coincide with my attending the concert at the RFH. I recall
he took a fast and furious tempo for the first movement which has never been to my liking. He seemed to emulate Bernstein in this regards and wonder who influenced who?!
Yes, the tempo is fast – but Levine saw that first movement as a self portrait: the opening march rhythm being Mahler striding through the streets of Vienna, the hiatus on the last beat of the bar depicting Mahler’s own slight limp – and of course the second subject depicts the ever-passionate Alma. Levine’s view of this music was that it is a terrifying glimpse into the future – that first movement is an unstoppable force, with the LSO playing to a standard I have rarely heard since. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but a valid artistic and interpretative view. There is nothing else like it on disc from anyone, before or since.