Fine artist though he was already, he has since that time developed hugely as a conductor, in every way. I believe that his connection with the wonderful Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie has been of huge mutual benefit – as have been his lengthy relationships with many other marvellous orchestras. I also believe that having worked with original instruments at one stage of his career had a strong effect on him. His performances of Haydn, Beethoven, Schumann etc take us into the different sound worlds of those composers, without ever for a moment sounding academic. He is also completely at home with late 19th and 20th-century classics, his love of Bruckner, Sibelius, Prokofiev, etc shining through his readings of their scores. His interpretations are always crystal clear, infused with dynamic energy, enthusiasm, structural understanding, and warmth.
It’s also great fun to play with him! From the moment he comes onto the stage – some would say that he more than slightly resembles a penguin as he does so; but my penguin-expert friends point to significant differences in DNA between Paavo and Antarctic penguins, at least, so I won’t push the comparison – one has the feeling that something exciting is going to happen. He turns to the orchestra, lips twitching in what seems to be a faintly amused challenge, and launches the performance with a decisive swipe – often mouthing the first rhythm as he does so (a very effective technique). I’ve played with him in collaboration with several different orchestras; varied though the experience may be, there’s always that same sense of happening, of risk, of a large group – family, even – operating as one unit. It’s exhilarating!
The concert over, Paavo will bid a swift farewell to his friends, and retire to his room with a boiled egg and a glass of hot water, there to meditate in solitude for the rest of the night.
Okay, I have to admit it: that last sentence was not entirely accurate. Paavo is in fact a party animal, who seems to enjoy the post-concert festivities as much as he has enjoyed the concert. He has even been known (in the past) to imbibe the odd drop of celebratory alcohol! Again, he differs here from many conductors, whose favourite – only, in certain extreme cases – topic of conversation is how successful their concert has been, how the orchestra loved them, etc. One can actually have a mutual exchange with Paavo, oh joy; and – oh even more joy – it’s possible to tease him without offending him. In fact, he’ll almost invariably agree with whatever has been said about him, usually reacting with an amused snort. ‘Listen,’ he’ll growl (at least half of his sentences seem to begin with that word) – and then continue to elaborate on whatever has been suggested, be it fact or fantasy.
So that is Paavo Järvi, who has now attained the grand old age of 60. I said that this was to be a celebratory post, and so it is. But alas, at this point I do have to add a valedictory element: Paavo’s hair, after a long fade, finally gave up the ghost some ten years ago or so. May it rest in undisturbed, defollicled peace. And may we, his friends and admirers, rejoice that all of his other body parts and their functions seem to be in such excellent condition. Happy birthday, Paavo!
All my (fairly) recent posts seem to have been obituaries; so I’m delighted to be able to write something celebratory for a change. Paavo Järvi is 6o! And – though I don’t want him to read this, because I don’t want it to go to his head – this is a birthday worth celebrating.
It must be some 35 years since I first played with Paavo – his debut concert, in fact, with the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie, of whom he has now been principal conductor for almost two decades. From the first, I was intrigued by this very different type of conductor, who didn’t seem to take himself too seriously, who allowed himself to have fun with the music, and whose incredibly clear beat made it easy for us all – orchestra and soloists (it was the Beethoven Triple concerto) – to play freely. (I still find his beat wonderfully lucid; I am generally hopeless at following batons, but Paavo’s I can always understand.) I also enjoyed his company immensely; I liked his deep Estonian voice, his mischievous humour, his desire to have a good time both on and off stage.
