Reiner, what (out of interest) did you do for those eight years? And how do you think whatever it was may have enhanced your capacity to come back to music so refreshed?
I started a small company that I still run, in a sphere completely different from classical music. It is not especially profitable, but it provides me with a side-income (commensurate with the amount of time I spend doing it - my staff earn more than I do from it, which the taxman disbelieves...) that enables me to be more selective about what work I do now I am "back" doing classical music. I also have another sideline writing and editing guidebooks and newspaper/magazine travel pieces (I turn up in The Independent sometimes, under my real name, and less occasionally on BBC R4 on progs like Excess Baggage).
I wasn't looking to "promote" myself here, but since ChafingDish has asked - I'm an opera director (ie I stage-direct operas). I have a secondary musical job co-running a "travelling" Music Festival which takes mainly modern music into more distant locations in Russia (and occasionally into Mongolia if we can get the funding).... since the end of the USSR funding for new music outside Moscow & St P has dried-up to a worrying degree, and we are able to cross-subsidise performances in "non-financially-viable" locations (Krasnodar, Krasnoyarsk, Sochi, Perm', Irkutsk, Nizhny Novgorod, Kazan', Kostroma, and others) with Moscow and St P (it is important to our sponsors that Moscow and St P are in the sched, we need the Press notices there for PR purposes).
I am not really sure I ever intended "coming back" to it, actually - but in the end I couldn't keep away from it. I actually slipped back to doing it accidentally, when I was asked if I could coach some Russian singers on an opera in English, just to help out - and from there I got asked to stage things, and now I stage about 3-4 productions per year (plus the Music Festival)... which is as many as I am happy with.
Before I took a break I think I'd slipped into that opera-house world of bad-mouthing everything, trashing anything I saw or heard, and working on each show with an attitude of "oh gawd what on EARTH can we do to save this old cobblers?". Part of this, I think, came from a working schedule in which I had little or no choice over what I worked on (and to be fair, some of the shows I was doing were on their very last legs after donkeys years in repertoire - it's very depressing doing work which you know is fobbing the public off with old tat). I can't say that I reached the decision to quit for artistic reasons however - a bereavement (and caring for someone through the last stages of a debilitating illness) prompted me to rethink my life. This was also part of leaving the UK - I needed a new start after all that.
I'm now in the very happy position where almost everything I am doing is work that I very much want to perform (I have a long list of those, which should keep me going for a while!), and we now have sufficient impetus that we can commission new work (we have premiered several new orchestral works, and next season we have our first opera commission). But more than that - I no longer "have" to listen to anything, and anything I listen to is for enjoyment and pleasure
I can also - if I wish to - turn work down that I don't wish to do. More usually this is because the circumstances of the rehearsals, performances or casting sound unrealistic or likely to result in poor work, than because I don't like the piece in question. The shows I do are often in obscure cities and get no publicity at all - I mention this partly because in my little world, one lives in mortal fear of the knife-in-the-back review, whereas the crits I get now - if any - couldn't hurt me seriously if they were poor anyhow.
I am not in any way suggesting what I did as a model for others, and I would not wish the circumstance which led to it upon anyone. But in truth my work "pre-break" had become stale and formulaic - whereas, for whatever reasons, I am now getting more offers of work than I can realistically accept, and I go into each new project with a mixture of awe and excitement, and honour that someone might have entrusted it to me.
Whilst I am about it, I ought to mention that - without ever realising - our very own Opilec and I turned-out to have been colleagues
We only found out through an "obscure opera" question about Berwald's THE QUEEN OF GOLCONDA