Let's see: is the relationship of classical music to society (hardly a small subject) somehow more of a:



than, for example:



Without for a moment assuming a role of Lebrecht-defender, I think I have some idea of why he in particular attracts such obsessive disdain from many quarters, certainly in a relatively middlebrow environment like here. Most of the ostensible reasons (highly opinionated, arrogant, doesn't always do his homework properly, hyperbolic) could be levelled at any number of others. In terms of detailing Karajan both as musician and machinator, Lebrecht seemed to capture him quite acutely (doesn't mention the fact that Karajan conducted the Horst-Wessel-Lied before every concert during the Third Reich, though).

Really? How fascinated we are to hear that Norman won't miss him. He shares this compulsion to skilfully opine thus with the tabloid telly reviewers.

It is massively unfortunate that the best-known journalist on serious music also peddles the most scurrilous nonsense. The endless proclaiming the death of music is simply preposterous; there is not one shred of evidence that music is 'dying' except that which is buzzing around in his head. It is more 'alive' in so many ways than ever before. And the Naxos affair was simply inevitable.

I'd love a really prominent music journalist who was also readable, intelligent and penetrating. Norman Lebrecht is none of those things.

Are audiences for classical music not getting older and not being replenished by younger ones? Do classical CDs have much of a future (at least those which are expensive to produce) in an age of mass copying and internet downloading? Is the whole system of public funding for music not beginning to disintegrate? Does classical music not (at least in the UK) get less coverage in the national press than ever before (and popular music more so)? Is there not a loss of faith in defending the value of some sort of musical 'high culture' as a whole from many quarters? Are promoters, commissioners, radio stations prepared to really take the risks they have done in the past in commissioning new work that will have more than a transitory impact?

Or is classical music in danger of being superceded by the work of Karl Jenkins (who now appears on the A-Level syllabus) and the like? If so, it might not have literally 'died', but it would certainly be brain-dead.

Sometimes it's the little things-the Hamlet ad on the tube doesnt mention a composer at all, so you assume its bits if  Gounod/ Berlioz, and neither did the recent revival of John McAbe's Edward 2 -also NBT production I think. I guess they may be aiming at simple visceral impact so the audience note how its done once theyre in their seats. At the RPO the other night I was struck by the warmth of the general punters, although the 'friends' didnt seem very friendly to each other. I think the answer is on both counts a consistent approachability-a lot of sense talked by new honcho at National Youth Orch on R3 last night about pitching to their peers with other interests and local relationships. Traditionally we Brits have been far far too diffident and trusting of some 'young Elizabethan' spirit rather than getting out there and benignly banging the drum so to speak. As I left the RPO, for some reason one of the fiddle players played a snatch (that word again) of something pre-classical from the back of a car .\I'm not advocating for busking, and the RPO is in better shape financially after all now, but it was a happenstance reminder to the passer-by that music transforms the environment and the punter wots innit.

For rather too long the A-Level set-works have been treated rather like the "Exam Papers" in "1066 & All That", viz  "Say what you admire about.... "

There is a case for saying that works listed for study should not be immune from (pertinent & informed) criticism.  If we are calling for music journalism/criticism of a more meaty calibre,  this should start in schools.  Hagiography is neither required or desirable in critics, and putting works on the set-piece list that provoke controversy and adverse reaction is not, of itself, giving them the "seal of approval".  A-Level English Lit has, in the past, asked candidates to analyse and comment upon the lines that begin:

O beautiful bridge of the silvery Tay!
Alas, I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away  (etc)

One would hope - all due Caledonian pride notwithstanding, of course - that candidates didn't feel the need to be obsequiously complimentary about McGonagal's maudlin doggerel

I viewed the DVD of Robert Dornhelm's 'Karajan' last night.   Lots of good historical footage, although I yearned for Tony Palmer's more layered approach but the later part caught fire when Karajan's career had peaked and ill health was becoming evident.  Long serving artists, Christa Ludwig and Rene Kollo left the fold to join Leonard Bernstein in Israel.

Ludwig summarised:  'Karajan made music.  Bernstein was music.'     

Fascinating to watch both men in rehearsal, a mix of composure v angst.  Surprisingly, I warmed to Karajan's simplicity and directness of approach and often smiled at his sly wit.   It is now 20 years since he literally shuffled on to the platform to conduct the New Year's Day concert and I held my breath as I watched his obvious discomfort.   'Dr Theatre' must have accompanied him as sheer magic took over when he lifted his baton.

I also wanted to be reminded of the musical giants in the Karajan era so I took copies of Rudolf Bing's memoirs from my shelves: 

  '5000 Nights At The Opera' (1972)  Hamish Hamilton Ltd
  'A Knight At The Opera'  (1981)  Putnam

as I wanted to suss Sir Rudolf's assessment of HvK.

Bing was also an autocrat and known for his sharp tongue and acerbic wit.   When asked whether a certain prima donna was difficult, he responded:    "Not at all.  You put enough money in and glorious sound comes out."

He also relished the barbs directed at himself.  Actor Cyril Richard's description of him:   'Don't be misled - behind that cold, austere severe exterior, there beats a heart of stone.'

Bing was determined not to work under the Nazi regime and immediately accepted an unexpected offer from Fritz Busch, in 1934, to join John Christie's enterprise at Glyndebourne; subsequently he formed the Edinburgh Festival and this was followed by more than two decades at The Met, NY. 

Initially, Bing was unwilling to engage Karajan at The Met and this is documented in the memoirs.   It's unclear whether Karajan was the unnamed person indicated by Frau Kleiber, responding on behalf of Erich, after he declined a Met appointment during Bing's first season.

"Mrs Kleiber kindly passed on to me the names of three men her husband had suggested as possible substitutes for himself, none of them anywhere near his stature.   One of the three was an old acquaintance.   'This gentleman I know well,' I wrote Mrs Kleiber, 'and I was engaged with him for at least two years at the Stadtische Oper in Berlin.   He is a mediocre conductor but was an outstanding Nazi.   I am only prepared to consider the opposite mixture; a mediocre Nazi who is an outstanding conductor.'             Love it, love it!

In due course, Karajan delivered outstanding work at The Met and formal tributes arrived from the good and the great as Bing prepared his final departure.   A telegram was sent by HvK.

      'On this day, I feel particularly close to you as man, as artist and as
      initiator of a great time at the Metropolitan Opera.   Your life's work will
      not be forgotten and I look forward, hopefully, to seeing you soon.   All
      best also from my wife.   Yours,  Herbert von Karajan'

'I commented:  "My God, I have arrived."   But I was touched that this was not merely a formal wire but a warm, personal message'

Bing's health later declined, too, into the sad condition of senile dementia.

For a round, unvarnished portrait of Herbert von Karajan, I still return to Richard Osborne's biography, 'A Life in Music',  as I also hugely enjoy his recordings, too - lots of 'em.   There, I can't say 'nicer' than that.  As a moral judgement, I paraphrase  Hamlet:  "Leave him to heaven".

I think precisely the opposite is the case on every count, with the sole exception of the first point you make. Serious music has always had a greater appeal for older listeners. I don't think that has changed in the last half century.

Despite the widely-publicised (not least by Lebrecht) death of the CD, you can today buy a wider range of repertoire on CD than at any time in the history of recorded music. Add to that the fact that deleted CDs are now more accessible than ever before via Internet sellers. And all that before we talk about downloadable recordings.

Which disintegration are you referring to? The closure of major orchestras? Which ones? And why does London (to take one example) still have more world-class ensembles than any other city on earth? There may well be an argument for improving the teaching of music in schools, but I do not detect a root and branch disintegration of serious music performance in this country.

I think the 'loss of faith' you refer to is in fact an ever-growing diversification in serious music. As new generations of composers come along, they are progressively less in thrall to the Canon than their forebears. There are two ways of looking at this: the end of civilisation or the possibility for new, interesting kinds of serious music taking inspiration from previously-untapped resources.

As for Karl Jenkins... hasn't there always been lighter fare on offer? It would be a strange (and unfortunate) state of affairs if there wasn't middlebrow music on offer...

I actually believe if serious music was still operating as it did in, say, the 1950s, when wall-to-wall Beethoven and Brahms was de rigeur it would have atrophied long ago. It has moved with the times, and thrives as a consequence.