By Don Bailey
for the New York Flute Club Newsletter
December 1998
I visited Michael
at his home in Ridgewood Park, NJ. Over lunch we discussed his childhood and the
events leading to his winning one of the most coveted flute positions in the
world - Principal Flute, Metropolitan Opera Orchestra.
Well, Michael, let’s start at the beginning. Where are you
from?
I'm from Bethesda, MD, which is near
Washington, DC. My father is a retired psychiatric researcher who worked at the
National Institutes of Health.
You had no interest in being a psychiatrist?
My father is quite eminent in his field. In addition to his
research he had a private practice, and he taught at the University of Maryland
and the Washington School of Psychiatry. I had no desire to compete with that.
Of course, I suspect that he would have preferred that I consider a more stable,
less risky career. Many of his friends and colleagues were amateur musicians.
Some of them were pretty good for amateurs, and I remember a point came when he
said, "Look at my colleagues, they're all researchers and scientists, and
they play instruments too." Well, even though these were wonderful, erudite
people who also enjoyed music, I knew pretty well by about age 15 that I had a
different set of musical aspirations than they did.
To play flute?
Well, to be a musician, at least. I was primarily a flute
player, but I had other musical interests, as well. I wasn't very good, but I
played piano in the high school jazz band. I liked jazz, and I did a lot of
arranging for the band. Plus, I played in a Blood, Sweat & Tears-type group,
and I did the arrangements for them. But even though I was always arranging and
composing - at a low level, of course - flute was my main emphasis.
How old were you when you actually started the flute?
I was seven. It's one of those stories (smiling). I can still
remember it. There was a televised musical production of The Pied Piper of
Hamelin that had adapted music from the Peer Gynt Suite. There was something
about the image of this colorful guy playing a transverse flute coupled with the
beautiful music of Grieg. It just captured my childish fancy. I started to
pester my folks to get me a flute, and I guess they thought I'd get it out of my
system. But here it is 39 years later, and they're still waiting. (laughing)
At age seven, was there a band program to keep you
motivated?
No, I was too young to be in the band, but I played the flute
because I wanted to. A lot of my friends, when they got to the 4th grade or so,
had instruments forced on them, but I actually wanted to do it.
Did you take lessons right away?
Yes. My mother took me to the local music and arts studio, and
they put a flute up to my face and determined that I was properly configured -
two lips, lungs, fingers and all the rest, so they assigned me to Burt Kester, a
very nice man. Now there's an interesting coincidence involving Burt. At that
time he was also learning to play the bassoon. When I joined the Met in 1977,
the second flutist, Mary Ann Archer, who joined the orchestra the same year I
did, knew Burt. Mary Ann is from Virginia and had been playing with the Norfolk
Symphony. The bassoon player there was Burt Kester. When she told him about the
results of the audition, he was flabbergasted to learn that the fat little
7-year old he’d taught 17 years before was playing principal flute at the Met.
So, when did you begin what most of us would call the
"normal" band scene?
Well, I was always in the school bands and the orchestras.
They weren't very advanced, but there was a youth orchestra in the area that was
more serious and had some good student musicians. I still know some of them.
Nadine Asin, piccolo at the Met, was in this group when I was there. Mike
Levin, the concertmaster at Glimmerglass in the summers and an associate
musician at the Met, was concertmaster in the Montgomery County Youth Orchestra
too. Also a bass player, Mike Willens, who went on to study at Juilliard and now
lives in Cologne playing music on original instruments.
Were you still studying privately in high school?
By the time I got to high school I was studying with William
Montgomery, the head of the woodwind faculty at the University of Maryland. Bill
had studied at Curtis with Kincaid and was also a Moyse aficionado - he’s a
very bright, very energetic man, a fine musician and teacher, and a good
administrator. He gave recitals in the Washington area and had a particular bent
for contemporary music which, I think, he passed down to me. In addition, I was
still interested in jazz, and I found a fellow who was a jazz musician and
composer of pedagogical piano music who happened to live just down the block. I
took theory lessons from him and he became important to me, as well. As a gag, I
wrote a kazoo concerto in high school and played it in one of the assemblies.
Well, (laughing) this gave me my requisite 15 minutes of high school fame. My
yearbook was full of pictures of kazoos.
Was your jazz limited to the piano and composing, or did
you play jazz flute, too?
While I was more a classical player, my jazz playing was
mostly on flute. But when I went to Juilliard I met people who were
"real" composers and "real" jazz musicians. I played in a
jazz quartet with a fine guitarist named Leon Atkinson. Leon was more
into the jazz world than the classical, and when he gave a Town Hall concert he
invited me to play with him. I found myself standing on stage with guys like Ron
Carter, Miles Davis' bass player, and at that point I said, "If I'm going
do this for real, I'd better get serious, because I'm not really qualified to be
up here." But instead, I made the decision to focus more in the classical
area.
What a great balance it must be play both.
I still enjoy jazz, and I listen to the jazz station
when I'm in the car. I guess it's sort of a well-kept secret at this point.
Well, (laughing) not anymore…… What sent you to
Juilliard?
Again, by the time I was about 15, I knew I wanted to be a
musician, so I applied to a bunch of music schools. Juilliard was one of them,
and I knew the city pretty well since my uncles were in the theatrical world. I
came up often when I was a kid.
You make it sound so easy. You applied to some schools, and
Bingo...
Well, Bill Montgomery, being the thorough guy that he is,
helped me prepare.
Your family was supportive I guess, but they weren't
musicians, were they?
Not my immediate family, but I've got enough musical uncles on
both sides to say that I came by musical talent legitimately. My father had a
brother who died long before I was born who was a child prodigy on the violin.
My mother came from a very musically and theatrically inclined family. She
played piano for fun when I was young. One of her brothers, Jay Harnick, is a
show director and producer who has a nationally organized children's theater
institution; their offices are in Town Hall. My mother's other brother, Sheldon
Harnick, is a violinist and the lyricist of Fiddler On the Roof, Fiorello,
and The Rothchilds. I didn't grow up in the immediate company of these
relatives, but I suppose it's understandable that I came to be interested in
music.
Who was your flute teacher at Juilliard?
The flute teachers were Julius Baker and Arthur Lora. I
studied with Lora, although I always admired Baker, and we get along splendidly.
Lora was the principal flutist in Toscanini's NBC Orchestra and at the Met. Some
of my parts, Lohengrin for instance, have his signature with the date
1938.
So you inherited his position.
Yes, it's interesting.
What was your Juilliard experience like?
I was always interested in composition and theory, and I was
particularly impressed with Vincent Persichetti and Robert Starer, both of whom
taught music theory at Juilliard. I hung around a lot of the composers, and my
last year there I was a graduate theory assistant for composer Lester Trimble.
While there were teachers who were inspiring, I think of equal importance was
the quality of the students that I was rubbing shoulders with. You found
yourself pulling yourself up to their level, which was so high. In the flute
department there was Trudy Kane (now the Met's other principal flutist), Nadine
Asin, and Carol Wincenc was there for her last year when I entered. Anne Diener
Giles was there, as were Ransom Wilson, Renée Siebert, Becky Troxler, and
others. When you're surrounded by flute players like these you have to reach for
a standard that's higher than you might otherwise.
The level in the other instrumental departments was similarly
high. I played for two years in what was then called the "Theater"
Orchestra, and the conductor was Jimmy Conlon who is now the head of the Paris
Opera. The orchestra was full of people who went on to become very well known in
the music world. The two concertmasters were Phil Setzer of the Emerson String
Quartet (who'll be playing with me on the 13th at CAMI) and Ida Kavafian who
just retired from the Beaux Arts Trio. The principal violist was Guillermo
Figueroa, the City Ballet's current concertmaster, and Yo Yo Ma played principal
cello for a while. The principal trumpet was Phil Smith who now occupies that
position in the Philharmonic. Renée Siebert, Nadine Asin and I were the flute
players. It was a phenomenally good orchestra to be a part of, and I look back
and realize how fortunate I was at that stage of my development to be around all
these great players.
(Laughing) Did anyone from that orchestra NOT succeed?
(Diplomatically) Well, I don't remember, but there were a lot
of good people. The standards of admittance were high and still are. Another
thing about going to Juilliard back then - there were no dormitories. The
apartment situation in New York wasn't so insane then, and students could take
apartments each season fairly easily, so I had lots of roommates. I remember one
of them was a student in the Juilliard acting department. John Houston was the
head of the department then. I would go to some of the theater productions and
come home reeling because the quality was so high. Now I realize that the actors
who were my roommate's colleagues were Kevin Kline, Robin Williams, Christopher
Reeves, and William Hurt.
Michael, can you imagine the party you could throw?
(laughing) Well we did, and these people would show up but
they weren't famous then. I just thought, "Gee, what an interesting,
amusing bunch of people." I realize now retrospectively that it was just a
very rich environment to be a part of.
How long did you attend Juilliard?
I was at Juilliard for four years until 1974. Then I was very
curious to see what "Real Life" was going to be about.
(Laughing) So, did this mean you played jazz flute in the
subways?
No, I was finished with that. I taught and freelanced for
three years. Gradually the freelance engagements became higher in quality,
although I did a lot of amusing things. I played in a backup group for Chet
Atkins, the country guitarist once, and I went on tour in a backup orchestra for
a rock keyboard player named Rick Wakeman. I did my fair share of gigs here and
there, but things gradually improved, and by the time I came to the Met I was
playing principal flute in Loren Glickman's contracted freelance orchestra for
the Stuttgart Ballet which was in residence at the Met. So, I was actually at
the Met the summer of the audition. But it was not an easy period those three
years. I remember feeling frustrated about not having a steady job.
Were you ever so frustrated that you wanted to quit?
Oh yes. It was that frustrating. I think all of us feel at
some point that we'll have to stop living this particular kind of life.
Were you taking auditions during that lean period?
Yes, I have my own roster of audition war stories to tell like
everybody else. Fortunately that period didn't go on too long. My first couple
of experiences were real debacles. I remember when Galway left the Berlin
Philharmonic around 1975; there was a very small advertisement in the union
newspaper that only a few of us saw. I had applied and forgotten all about it,
and one day they called me for the audition which was to be the following day at
Carnegie Hall. I showed up, not really knowing what would be on it. I brought my
Mozart Concerto. I was surprised to learn that European orchestras, and the
Berlin Philharmonic in particular, audition with the entire orchestra out there.
As in my worst nightmare, there they all were with Herbert Von Karajan, and I
didn't even know what I'd be playing. I kept pinching myself, hoping to wake up.
Were you behind a screen?
Oh no. Gosh no! (laughing) So I learned really quickly that
there was stuff you needed to know at auditions.
So, how did you do anyway?
(Laughing). I didn't get the job, but it makes a good story.
Was the Met your first position?
Yes, my first and I guess my last (smiling).
Not a bad start.
Well, I can't complain.
Was an opera orchestra of more interest to you at the time
than a career on the stage in a symphony?
I didn't audition for the Met specifically because I wanted to
play opera. It was a good position that was available. I think to a degree you
are molded by your experiences, but I don't think it's been a limiting
experience for me - quite the contrary, in fact. The Met orchestra has evolved
tremendously in the time I've been there, to the point now where it's now an
exceptionally fine concert orchestra as well. It's becoming analogous to the
Vienna Philharmonic, which is essentially the Vienna State Opera Orchestra in
disguise. They perform and record both kinds of music. We're moving in that same
direction and tour often, and the reception has been very good. Bernard Holland
reviewed our concert last weekend at Carnegie Hall, "I've been listening to
orchestras for over 50 years and can scarcely recall anything like it."
It's been fun being a part of an artistic situation that's evolving in a
positive direction. We're also performing more in chamber music settings on the
stage. On December 6., for instance, Dawn Upshaw, James Levine, others and I
will be performing Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire at Weill Hall.
Do you have to intentionally switch gears when you play on
the stage versus in the pit?
I don't think so. I play on the stage enough so that it's
familiar territory.
Do you have to think differently about projection or volume?
Well, the thing about playing in an opera orchestra is that it
demands a wide range of dynamics and styles. If you're playing a prelude,
overture, or an orchestral tutti you have to project at a symphonic level of
intensity and volume. And if you're playing along with Cecilia Bartoli, for
example, you might have to play at a literal whisper, so you must cultivate this
very wide range of dynamics which are required on a nightly basis. It also
requires great rhythmic flexibility because a lot of what's done instinctively
by sopranos and tenors is not really written into the parts.
(Laughing) You mean they don't know how to count?
(Diplomatically) Oh, the best of them have tremendous rhythm.
Bartoli, for instance, is an astonishing musician.
What about pitch placement or vibrato when playing with
voices?
Well, if you're playing unison or 3rds with a singer, it's
sort of like long-range chamber music. You can't see them so you have to listen
very carefully. You learn to match the quality of the sound that they're
producing. If you're playing in unison, you instinctively reduce the presence of
your sound which includes pulling out a degree of your vibrato simply so you
don't conflict with them. It would certainly be in bad taste for the flute
player to try to drown out Pavarotti, for example.
Do you ever think about what you would have done had you
lost the Met audition?
I try not to (laughing). I probably would have continued
taking auditions. I know several very successful players who took numerous
auditions before winning. I think it sometimes takes people a certain amount of
time to hit their stride when auditioning. It becomes like an athletic event. I
think at certain times in your life you're more geared towards that than at
others. It becomes harder to take auditions. I mean, what's being asked from you
at auditions is not necessarily what will be asked of you in the actual
situation. For example, you'll have eight bars to prove yourself, and precision
and concentration is important, but there's something strange about taking eight
bars out of a 40-minute masterpiece and focusing so much laser-like attention on
it. The Scherzo from A Midsummer Night's Dream suddenly becomes like the
50-yard dash and the Firebird becomes like some kind of a crazy slalom.
And people begin to play, of necessity I think, in sort of an a-contextual way.
And after you've played Firebird enough in an orchestra, you realize that
this stuff which you're breaking your neck to learn and play absolutely
accurately at the audition is not even heard. It's like a pure audition piece,
and the way you would play dynamics, rhythm and tempos at an audition are
different than what you would play in context. Plus, if you've played them in
context enough, it becomes a peculiar exercise to try to go back and play them
out of context.
Do you remember the audition itself?
Oh yes, there were 2 or 3 rounds, opera repertoire only. I had
to play the second act solo from Manon Lescaut, Rosenkavalier's first act
cadenza which is very hard, the Entr’acte to the third act of Carmen,
the third act Nile Scene solo from Aïda, the Falstaff cadenza,
and other standard fare. 100 people auditioned. The thing that's so interesting
about the Met auditions is that they were and still are done entirely behind
screens, including the last round. So the audition committee doesn’t know whom
they're hiring. Whoever staggers out from behind the screen will be taking the
job. I think it's a great system, and the quality of the orchestra reflects the
effectiveness of it. What you end up with often might be players otherwise
considered too young and too inexperienced, or too old and too molded. We've had
both, and for the most part it works out not only musically, but also personally
for some reason. About ten years ago there was an opening for harp, and I was on
the committee. At the end, this young French girl came from behind the screen -
she was still a student at Curtis, and some people might have wondered if she
was up to the job. Well, not only was she up to the job, but Marie-Pierre
Langlamet is now principal harp in the Berlin Philharmonic. She might never have
been given the chance had the audition not been behind a screen. Another
example is Ricardo Morales, performing with me for the Flute Club concert, who
won his position at age 21 five or six years ago, and he remains one of the
greatest clarinet players I've ever heard. So, I feel this method of auditioning
really works.
(Laughing) But what if the person behind the screen turns
out to be a crack addict or someone who never bathes.
Hmm, actually that's not such an unusual question. But, it
takes tremendous discipline to win an audition these days. So many people want
the job and standards have to be so high that it's hard to imagine a crack
addict would have that kind of discipline. It's not impossible, however. On the
other hand I don't really think that orchestras which audition differently have
any premium on well-adjusted people. While the behind-the-screen method is
certainly risky, I'm convinced that it has proved itself over and over again. I
think the overall quality of the players in the Met Orchestra is higher than
it's ever been.
Is there anything else you'd like to say about your audition
for the Met?
Well, I remember what it meant to me at the time. I remember
the stomachache I had after I played, even though I knew that I had played well.
It was like a mythic moment for me; I realized those last 15 minutes were going
to have a lot of impact on the rest of my life.
Did your teacher, Mr. Lora, encourage you and help you
prepare for that day?
No, I had not been studying with Mr. Lora for a quite few
years at that point, and, interestingly, he had come out a completely different
milieu. He never took an audition in his life. In his world, Toscanini would
say, "Take this man and put him in this chair." Of course, if he got
tired of him, he'd say, "Take this man OUT of this chair and take
him out back and SHOOT him. (laughing) It was a different world entirely.
Consequently, Mr. Lora did not encourage or prepare me for the realities of the
present audition system.
Do you share responsibilities at the Met?
Yes. All of the principal positions at the Met are occupied by
two players; seven shows a week plus all rehearsals for the duration of the
season would be too much for one player. Trudy Kane is the other principal
flutist. She and I actually came in as principals the same year, although she
had won the second flute position the year before. It was an interesting
time, because the orchestra was changing demographically. Suddenly the flute
section went from players in their mid-to-late 50’s and early 60’s to a
flute section where everybody was in their early and mid -20’s. It was quite
an adjustment for many of the older players, particularly because so many young
women were now occupying principal positions. This was a completely unfamiliar
situation for the old guard.
What can you say about collaborating with the same
players for such a long period?
Well, I like the people I work with. Some orchestras may have
reputations for being combative or even surly, but, perhaps because the Met
spends so much of its time in a supportive role, I’ve never found this to be
the case. It's a good bunch of people. Both principal oboists live within five
minutes of my house, and we often commute into town together. There really isn't
anyone that I don't get along with. If I need to work out some intonation, or
discuss phrasing, I really don't have a problem discussing these with the
section. My personality isn't that of a "boss." But when necessary,
I'll rehearse with my colleagues to work through difficult passages before the
performance. Some people have lists of rules about how to get along with
colleagues and conductors: don't stare at people while they’re playing their
solos, don’t cross your legs, and so on. But I really think the "golden
rule" is sufficient in most situations. Sensitivity is a good thing.
What's a typical performance day for you?
It varies from week to week. The Met gives seven performances
a week, but out of that we are only contractually required to play four. Since
Trudy and I have the same job description it means that on an average I play 3
or 4 shows a week. Of course, operas are long. For example, tonight I'm playing Figaro
from 8 until midnight. Last night I played Aïda from 8 until midnight,
and during the day yesterday there was a rehearsal of Traviata from 11 in
the morning until 3. The day before I rehearsed from 11 to 2:30 and played Tosca
from 8 until 11:15, and the day before that was a Carnegie Hall concert.
Tomorrow we rehearse from 11 to 4 for this Sunday’s Pavarotti 30th Anniversary
Gala. So, it's a lot of work. We often joke that playing in the Met Orchestra
can bear a surprising resemblance to working for a living. (laughing)
When do you practice? Do you have a routine or something
that you absolutely MUST do every day?
I practice every morning. I'm a believer in having a regimen.
I practice tone, intonation, scales, and articulations in some form everyday.
Otherwise, I think playing in an orchestra over the long term would be
destructive because you can't always hear yourself clearly. It's really
important to return to the basics everyday. When I teach, I try to emphasize
this, as well. If I try to get through 24 scales, with various articulations,
and do long tones for a half hour, I feel I destroy myself, so I've figured
out how to get as much variety packed into my limited warm-up time as I can. I
find if I can keep my mind active and not practice by rote, I can get done in
only a half an hour what used to take me an hour and a half.
Do you take time off?
Occasionally I've taken a week off, but I'm not comfortable
taking too much time off. I've never taken a month off.
Any things you can't eat before you play?
Hmm, I actually have a very unhealthy routine (smiles). I
drink coffee and have a peanut butter cookie before almost every opera. This
jump-starts my motor and I can get through the first hour and a half without any
problem. I generally don’t drink coffee before recitals, though, because it
tends to dry out my mouth. Other than that I don't really have any problems
with foods.
I doubt if you get nervous before performances.
I wouldn't say that I never get nervous, but I think I've
learned from experience how to coexist with the occasional adrenaline buzz and
not to give it any more importance than it deserves. I think nerves result
largely from being unprepared or unfamiliar with a situation. Now, after 22
years of playing Aïda, I've a fairly good idea that I'll survive the
experience. I've also played enough recitals to be reasonably comfortable in
those settings, too. There are times, of course when the adrenaline buzz is more
intense than others. For example, if we're doing a telecast and playing the Entr’acte
to the third act of Carmen, or the mad scene from Lucia, I can't
pretend that when the camera focuses on me that I'm not more on the edge of my
seat than usual.
What kind of flute do you play?
It's a silver .014 tubing Brannen Cooper with a silver
headjoint by David Williams. I used to play a gold flute, but I found that for
my style of playing silver was better.
Would you like to talk about your teaching?
I teach privately and I've taught at Manhattan School of Music
since 1985. I like teaching; I've had some very good students.
I've heard mention of some special techniques you use for
hand position. Care to say anything about this?
Well, I think if you put these sorts of things in print,
people sometimes try them without really understanding the concepts and then develop
some really bad habits.
Would you ever tell a student to give it up?
Well, I'm not the type to lie to people about their
possibilities, and there are some that I might not encourage to continue, but
thankfully the students I accept at MSM are serious about the flute and this
situation rarely occurs. I wouldn't want to discourage anyone from pursuing
their dreams, but it would be irresponsible to delude them by supporting their
dreams if they're unrealistic.
Do you think it's harder today to develop a career in music
than when you started?
I think it's always been difficult to have a career in music;
there has always been a herd of flute players at the auditions. It's a very
competitive environment, and the positions that pay a living wage are few. On
the other hand, I've had many students who have constructed interesting and
creative careers. There are all kinds of ways to have a career in music.
Do you play piccolo?
When necessary, I play piccolo. At the Met I play a little
second picc in Carmen, or in Peter Grimes. December 6, I'll play flute and
piccolo in Pierrot Lunaire.
Let's talk about your upcoming Flute Club concert
I've been interested in contemporary music ever since high
school, and I'm an admirer of Carter's music. With his birthday occurring two
days before the concert, I decided to structure the program around his music. It
will be an interesting program, and I have some terrific musicians performing
with me. It's not an all-Carter program, though. I don't pigeonhole myself into
any particular area of expertise, and I don't consider myself a contemporary
music specialist or a baroque music specialist. I like to play whatever is of
interest to me, so I've included some Bach, some Martinu, some solo, and some
chamber works simply because I think it makes a more interesting concert.
Tell me about your family.
Well, you've met my wife Inmo, who is a beautiful Korean
cellist; we've been married for ___________ ?? (laughing), and we have a 13
year-old son, Eugene, who's a football player - he’s already 6'3."
Any regrets or unfilled aspirations? Would you do it all
differently?
No, I don't think I would do it differently, although I would
like to do more solo and chamber music recording in the future. Probably the
only thing you don't get to do playing in the Met Orchestra that you would be
able to do as a principal chair player in a symphonic orchestra is play
concertos with the orchestra regularly. (That said, Levine has been featuring
members of the orchestra in concertos more frequently in recent seasons.) I've
performed a fair number of concertos with other orchestras, and I would like to
do more in the future.
Well Michael, that about does it for this interview. It's
been great talking with you. Is there anything else you would like to say to the
members of the New York Flute Club?
Oh, I might say "Don't believe your publicity." If
you have a title, a job, or a position - don't think to yourself that that's the
end. We shouldn’t identify so strongly with the symbols in our lives that they
keep us from growing and pursuing other kinds of activities. People who say,
"I am THIS" run the risk of sticking themselves in that spot and never
evolving. A few days ago I went to hear James Galway play at Carnegie Hall. I
remembered that about 20 years ago, the first concert he played in New York was
an all Bach concert - all the sonatas. His recent concert was also all Bach,
only this time his collaborators were playing on original instruments, and he
played the whole evening in a light, historically-informed manner with lilting
phrasing and virtually no vibrato. He basically divested himself of this great
calling card, the Galway sound, and played in an incredibly intimate way. I was
so impressed that he was going beyond what it is that he knows will work. He was
taking a risk with an audience that expected one thing, and he was giving them
another. I think there's a lot to learn from that. I would prefer people not
think of me as just an "opera musician", but as a musician with
eclectic tastes who plays a lot of opera. If they come to this concert on the
13th, they'll see what I mean.
"Folk Dance" from Four
Fancies by G. Jacob
VOYAGE (Summit Records)
