Mackerras remembered

By a happy coincidence - of the sort that would have delighted Sir Charles - sitting on my desk beside the laptop at the same time was the new Mackerras biography. Edited by Nigel Simeone and John Tyrrell and published this week, the book had just arrived in the post. In it, among other more lofty contributions, is an article that I wrote at the time of Mackerras' death in 2010, and which was published to accompany his obituary in this paper.

Delighted by the coincidence of my find, I eagerly pressed play on the Haffner video, and watched as old and dear friends filled the screen. Those sessions of July 2009 produced the penultimate record of the extraordinary Mackerras discography, so I was excited to look back at such an important event.

In some ways, the video doesn't consist of much. There's a short and deceptively simple interview with Sir Charles at the start, and the first time I watched it, I thought - what a shame, it doesn't cover anything at all. Then I watched it again, and I thought - I'm wrong. It covers everything.

The Symphonies sound so crisp and freshly minted, the interviewer observes, asking Sir Charles how long he has known these pieces.

"Oh, over fifty years now" Sir Charles replies, and then gives a chuckle.

And that's two of his great gifts right there - exceptional depth and breadth of experience, such as breeds a unique musical wisdom, along with some good-humoured delight at it all.

Then Mackerras goes on to say a few very simple things; Mozart is my favourite composer, he says, and these are his masterpieces. The word masterpiece itself isn't a word to be taken lightly, coming from him. Mackerras knew what the word masterpiece really meant, after a lifetime's scholarship on the subject.

He doesn't eulogise, he doesn't go into elaborate descriptions. (One can think of other younger SCO conductors that might throw a bit more poetry in there.) Mackerras simply states the facts; these pieces are supreme works, he loves them, and he knows them inside out (and outside in). That is all he is saying, but it is also everything he is. After that, he lets the music speak.

Prima la musica, is the message that comes through loud and clear in the new biography of Charles. The book is a heart-warming tapestry of contributions, weaving together to make up a rich and strong portrait of this much-loved 'musician's musician'. The editors point out that the book is not intended to be a biography in the conventional sense - and the book is probably a more enjoyable read as a result.

Particular focus is given to the later years of Mackerras' life. This is partly because Nancy Phelan's biography was printed in 1987, therefore leaving the last 20 years of his life yet to be covered. And partly it's because by common consent, Mackerras achieved some of his greatest work after the age of 60. As Patrick Summers puts it in his chapter, Sir Charles 'was a lion whose winter was uniquely rich.'

Among chapters that analyse Mackerras' profound academic, musicological and performing achievements in historic and thematic detail, personal contributions from many artists and colleagues of Sir Charles bring the book into a vivid and living dimension; Simon Keenlyside, Dame Janet Baker and Alfred Brendel are among the most starry contributors.

Sir Antonio Pappano makes a particularly enlightening contribution. Perhaps because he is also a conductor, he captures things about Sir Charles that I experienced on stage under the Mackerras baton, but never sought to articulate. He speaks of Mackerras' earthy sense of theatre in his music, of his rhythm, and of his fantastic grasp of tempi, all of which drove his performances with the irrepressible energy that we experienced as audience and players.

Dame Janet Baker underlines the vital and easily undervalued fact that his players and singers always felt safe with him in the heat of performance. She describes 'a sense of total security...coming up to us from the pit of the opera house...like standing on solid rock.' Everyone speaks of the fact that Sir Charles was unpretentious and practical, and above all, utterly devoted to the music. More than one contributor points out that Charles was the kind of conductor that dispels the nonsense myths that circle like coloured smoke rings around the conducting profession.

It is a book that leaves you thinking about legacy, and industrious lifelong commitment to whatever it is that you love. Like an exhibition of late Turner paintings, one is left with the unavoidable conclusion that there are no shortcuts to great work. These things take a lifetime.

It has also made me reflect on what an orchestra is, what the SCO was, what it is now. The orchestra that I joined in 2005 had already been shaped and directed in innumerable ways by its work with Mackerras. Playing in the SCO under Mackerras was like stepping into a very fast flowing river, already in spate. The musical current was incredibly strong, and it was thrilling to be swept into it.

Although many of the musicians that light up that Haffner video for me are no longer on the SCO platform, I believe the Mackerras inheritance still pulses through the current orchestra's bloodstream. It has been fascinating to witness that inheritance in the hands of a new, equally driven but totally different conductor, Robin Ticciati. The Schumann recordings, the forthcoming Haydn recordings, are the SCO in the hands of Ticciati. But Mackerras is the grandfather of that orchestra - much of its sound, its rhythmic energy, and its joyful spontanteity owe a lot to the years spent with him.

The Mackerras biography is a book that you will love, if you knew Charlie, either as musician or happy audience member. It will feel like meeting an old friend again. It's a book that aspiring musicians should read, and like me, I am sure they will be inspired, directed, humbled and challenged by it.

But after reading even just a little bit of it, I bet you'll reach to put on one of his recordings. Charles Mackerras will have done his job one more time, which would make him smile, pointing you always towards the music.

Charles Mackerras, edited by Nigel Simeone and John Tyrrell, is published by The Boydell Press, price £25.