Herbert Thorson Blomstedt has performed in over three thousand concerts with the world’s most renowned philharmonic orchestras. He has held several long-term positions as music director of legendary orchestras in Dresden, Leipzig, and San Francisco, and recorded hundreds of works, including the complete symphonies of Beethoven, Bruckner, and Nielsen. He has won two Grammy Awards and received state distinctions in Sweden and Germany. How much can one fit into a life that continues tirelessly with 70–80 conducting appearances per year?
How much can one man offer? He has donated his personal library of 35,000 volumes to the University of Gothenburg, dozens of instruments from his own collection to the Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig, and a classical organ to the Adventist church in his hometown of Lucerne.
Maestro Blomstedt, thank you for accepting my invitation. I have long dreamed of interviewing you. Please share with us your earliest musical memories.
I had wonderful parents. They were very loving, but also very different from each other. My father was born in Stockholm but came to the United States as an orphan at the age of 12. He was an Adventist pastor and an extraordinary Christian. His main purpose in life was to serve God. He didn’t earn much money, but we weren’t poor. I never felt like we were lacking anything.
My mother was a professional pianist. Born in the United States, she studied at the Chicago Conservatory. Her career was cut short by rheumatism, which affected her greatly. She could no longer play well. She only played for us, her children.
So you remember her playing.
I think I was two or three years old, and I wouldn’t go to bed until she played me a Chopin prelude. I even had a favourite one. After listening to it, I would go to sleep. I was spoiled with good music. Those were the seeds that were planted in my child’s soul.
You have strong musical memories from your early childhood, but what was everyday life like?
The schedule was very strict. We woke up at around seven o’clock and enjoyed a traditional Swedish breakfast. Before eating, we prayed. Afterwards, one of the children would read a passage from the Bible. We read the entire Bible in a year. Then we prayed with my father or my mother, if he was absent. Finally, all the children recited the Lord’s Prayer with our parents.
We rode our bikes to school. I really liked school. I was a little lonely, as none of my classmates shared my love of classical music. Very few of them showed any interest in religion either. However, we worked well together in class. After school, we played football for about two hours. Then I practised the violin for a few hours before doing my homework.
You started playing the violin at a young age.
I think I was about ten. Before that, I studied the piano with a friend of my mother’s from church. I didn’t practise enough because I was more interested in sports and school. It was my mother who suggested that I play the violin. After a few years, I had a very good teacher. By the time I was 12 or 13, his passion had inspired me.
At the time, I was living in Gothenburg, home to the best concert hall in Northern Europe. The acoustics are fantastic. I went to symphony concerts there twice a week. I bought a season ticket with my own money, as my parents couldn’t afford it. I was determined to listen to that kind of music. To earn money, I sold church health magazines, receiving 10 cents for each one sold. I went door to door selling them. The music was wonderful! Symphonies by Beethoven, Mozart, Handel, Bruckner, and Brahms. It was fantastic!
Were you already a fan of Bruckner and Brahms by that age?
I’ll never forget the first Bruckner symphony I heard. It was the Fourth. It completely captured my and my brother’s imagination. It begins with a muffled string chord, like a hum in E-flat major. Then comes the call of the horn.
When did you start thinking about conducting?
Much later. Neither at school nor during my early years at the Stockholm Conservatory did I ever dream of becoming a conductor. The violin was my main instrument. At the conservatoire, I also studied piano, singing, choir and orchestra conducting, counterpoint, harmony, and so on; general music studies.
I dreamed of setting up a string quartet. When I didn’t have school on Sundays, I would play string quartets all day long. My brother played the cello and I played the violin or viola; two friends would also come over.
We practised on Sundays from eight in the morning until ten at night. We barely ate. We devoured the repertoire. We loved discovering this music. We were spellbound. I dreamed of forming my own string quartet with my brother. That was around the time when we started thinking about girls. I wanted to marry a talented violinist. My brother was going to marry a wonderful violist. Together, we were going to build a house on the shore of a forest-surrounded lake. We wanted to play string quartets all day long. That was my dream—not to conduct an orchestra.
I also wanted to become an organist. I started studying the organ and discovered Bach’s organ music. I dreamed of becoming an organist and performing Bach’s cantatas every Sunday. It would have been extraordinary. At the conservatoire, I studied choral conducting for six months. As a future music teacher, I needed to know how to conduct the school choir. That’s how I first came to study Bach’s vocal music.
I once had the opportunity to conduct the conservatoire’s student choir. Following a death in the royal family, an important service was quickly organised in a church in Stockholm. I had only worked on two sections of Brahms’ Requiem. The first is “Selig sind, die da Leid tragen” (“Blessed are those who mourn”). The second is the funeral march: “Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras” (All flesh is like grass). This is followed by “Aber das Wort des Herrn bleibt in Ewigkeit!” (But the Word of the Lord remains forever).
What extraordinary music, combining the romantic spirit with Bach’s artistry!
This music was greatly influenced by Bach. We rehearsed the piece with the choir and were invited to perform it in the church. As we were all students, I was asked to conduct. There was no orchestra; only the organ accompanied us. After that experience, I realised that conducting was what I wanted to do! I then enrolled in conducting classes and reorganised my whole life. I was already 22 years old.
Although I continued my studies as a conductor, I didn’t get a job in the field. Who would hire a young student? At that time, there were only seven professional symphony orchestras in Sweden. There were few opportunities. Many years passed before I conducted my debut concert in Stockholm.
In the meantime, I studied hard. I enrolled at university, where I obtained degrees in musicology, the history of religions, and psychology. I enjoyed it very much. I also went abroad to study conducting in Salzburg, Darmstadt, and Basel. I spent a year in the United States on a scholarship, in Boston and New York. I made good use of my time, but unfortunately I didn’t manage to make my debut. However, while I was studying in Tanglewood with the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Leonard Bernstein in America, I received a telegram from Stockholm. It invited me to make my debut with the Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra. They had heard about me and wanted to give a young man a chance. I accepted the invitation and it was a turning point in my life.
I was very well prepared. I had spent seven years preparing for this! The concert was a real success—a miracle! Two weeks later, I received an offer to become the conductor of one of the best Swedish symphony orchestras.
A few months later, my agent urgently called me because the Oslo Philharmonic wanted me to be their music director. I spent seven wonderful years in Oslo. The orchestra was extraordinary. It still is today. Those were wonderful years, during which I learned a lot. After seven years, the Danish National Radio Symphony Orchestra invited me to join them. I wanted to be clear from the outset, so I told their manager that I don’t work on Saturdays. He told me that he already knew that, that everyone knew that, and that it wouldn’t be a problem as they had thought about it beforehand. I felt relieved. Everyone knew! They had already thought about it. I worked there for ten years. It was a wonderful time.
Next came the Dresden State Chapel!
But first came the Stockholm Radio Orchestra, conducted by the wonderful Romanian conductor Celibidache. They said it was a pity that the best Swedish conductor wasn’t working in Sweden. I was coming after Celibidache. I couldn’t turn down such a good offer. I spent a few wonderful years there.
But something very interesting happened during that time. It was 1969, three years after I arrived in Stockholm. I received an invitation from the Dresden State Chapel. It was a special moment; it was the first time I had conducted a “perfect” orchestra. While conducting, I was captivated by the beauty of the sound. They were so intelligent and virtuosic that I could ask them anything. I had only received the invitation a few weeks before the concert, as their conductor had become unavailable. I therefore chose to play a concert programme that I had previously conducted in Copenhagen. I held three rehearsals with the orchestra, but to my amazement, everything was almost perfect after the first rehearsal. They were incredible musicians.
Much to my surprise, they asked me to be their music director. This was a very difficult decision for me. The Dresden orchestra was the most extraordinary orchestra I could have wished to conduct, but it was located in a communist country. I found communist ideology repulsive; the dictatorship was terrible and there was a high level of repression. People were not free, but at least they had food and jobs. There were no protests. People had become accustomed to this way of life, and music provided them with an escape and a refuge. Music was a breath of fresh air in their lives. I had many questions and I hesitated. They insisted a lot though. They told me they needed me and that they only wanted to work with me. They said they would show me how wonderful their country was. They continued to insist for two years. In the end, I decided to go and work with them.
I read that Herbert von Karajan influenced your decision somehow.
He gave me the final push I needed. It was a dramatic and emotional moment. Karajan knew the orchestra; he had played with them at the Salzburg Festival. He came to Dresden to record Wagner’s opera “Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg”. It’s a long opera, lasting five hours, and it had been removed from the orchestra’s repertoire. The opera house had been bombed and was in ruins; they had nowhere to perform. So they invited Karajan to record it, to ensure that this music would not be forgotten.
Karajan arrived and scheduled 18 recording sessions. However, the orchestra finished the recording after nine sessions, which left Karajan very impressed. He gave an emotional speech, saying: “When I came to Dresden, I thought I was just going to make another recording—one of hundreds I’ve made in my life. But from the moment I arrived, I realised that you are different.” He paused, overcome with emotion, unable to speak. “Gentlemen, the city is full of lifeless monuments,” he finally said, referring to the ruins in the city after the war, “but you are a living monument!”
He also revealed that he would be returning, and even stated that had he not already been with the Berlin Philharmonic, he would have joined them. The orchestra recorded Karajan’s speech and sent it to me as a gift. Their message was: “Why are you hesitating? Karajan would come to us immediately, so why are you hesitating?’ After that, I accepted. I worked with them for another 12 years after that, and it was a wonderful time.
I would like you to tell us a little more about this experience.
I learned a lot from them. I think they learned something from me too, or at least that’s what they told me. However, I remain convinced that I learned more from them. They have a tradition of sound production, after all. They always play warmly, even when they have to play fortissimo. They never play harshly; their sound is always distinguished. They have an enormous culture of interpretation, not the result of 20 years of working with a particular conductor, but a tradition dating back 400–450 years.
You also made many recordings during that period.
I kept count, and I recorded 130 works with them, including all of Beethoven and Schubert’s symphonies, and Mozart’s concertos.
What happened after Dresden?
In 1979, I went on my first tour of the United States with the Dresden orchestra. It was a long and tiring tour, but a wonderful experience. The American public discovered how good this orchestra is and I think they discovered me, too. After we finished the concerts, I received a contract from Columbia Artists Management Inc. (CAMI), and I have collaborated with them several times since. In 1984, I spent seven weeks in America conducting the major American orchestras.
Which ones were these? Boston and Cleveland?
Yes, Boston; I came to Cleveland later. I also conducted the Philadelphia Orchestra, as well as the orchestras in Pittsburgh, Detroit, Minneapolis, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. These orchestras needed a music director. When I arrived in San Francisco, however, everything was different; the orchestra was superb. I conducted there for another ten years. Working in such an open society allowed me to grow as a person—I became freer, happier, and warmer. The orchestra and I transformed each other during our collaboration.
Then you moved back to Europe, to Hamburg and Leipzig.
I had been working in Hamburg for two years when I received an offer I couldn’t refuse: to become the music director of the Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig. The Gewandhaus Orchestra is very special in terms of both quality and tradition. Leipzig is a city of music. Nowhere else in the world does a city hold its musicians in such high esteem, not even in Berlin or Vienna, although these cities also value their famous musicians. The way people behave shows that the orchestra is their most precious asset. You don’t get that feeling anywhere else. I worked in Leipzig for seven years, until 2005.
Was that your last contract as permanent conductor?
Yes. I was 78 years old, and even though I was in good health, I thought it would be better for them to have a younger music director who wouldn’t die the following year or conduct while deaf. The orchestra invited me back later, and we performed several concerts together. I also recorded Bruckner’s symphonies with them. I have a special relationship with the people there and whenever I return to Leipzig, it feels like home.
Now, let’s talk about the great composers whose music you have performed the most. Let’s start with the Leipzig cantor.
Bach was an extraordinary master with a rich imagination and an extraordinary belief in the message of the Bible. For him, God was a reality. He prayed and read the Bible daily. I have a facsimile copy of Bach’s Bible at home. You can see which words he underlined, the printing errors he corrected, and his comments on passages from the Bible. Next to some texts, you can see question marks. Similar to today’s Bibles, which contain notes and brief biblical studies between verses, Bach’s Bible is full of commentary. He liked some of these commentaries and disliked others, as you can see from the notes he wrote alongside them.
As a church musician, he had to compose a new cantata for the church service every Sunday, based on the biblical text on which the priest’s sermon was built. He knew these texts well in advance as they were set out in the church calendar. The pastors and musicians of the church worked together to convey the biblical message as vividly as possible so that it would speak to people’s hearts.
It is very clear that Anton Bruckner’s symphonies have played a central role in your performing and recording career. Why is that?
There are two main reasons. Firstly, I really like his music. Secondly, I feel that his music is not popular with many people. I want to be like a missionary and introduce people to it because they don’t realise what they’re missing out on. It’s extraordinary, but it seems that it’s not for everyone. Many modern people are unable to concentrate for long periods of time and are therefore unable to appreciate something of great scope. The same thing happens with understanding the Bible and great poetry. You have to listen attentively to this music. If you do, not only will you experience immense pleasure, but you will also feel a sense of greatness, solemnity, and closeness to eternal values—something permanent and great that resembles God, whom we cannot see, but believe exists.
How can we get closer to Him?
One way is to concentrate on listening to this music for an hour—or even just ten minutes if it’s a single movement of a symphony. It is extraordinary music, composed by a brilliant, religious man.
What about Brahms? When my wife was researching her dissertation, she drew my attention to what one of Brahms’s contemporaries said about him: that for Brahms, the Bible was the most important thing in life besides music. Here is the quote: “Brahms’ exceptional knowledge of the Bible grew from the time when, as a young child, he was accustomed to eat his dinner with the book lying open beside his plate… He could recite entire chapters from memory.” This love and understanding is evident in his works based on biblical passages, such as the German Requiem.
That’s true. He knew the Bible very well, particularly the Old Testament and the books of wisdom, such as the Book of Job, the Psalms, and Ecclesiastes, as well as the books of the Prophets and biblical poetry. His choice of words for the German Requiem demonstrates his familiarity with the Bible. He selected the most appropriate texts himself. He was a Protestant from northern Germany, and he wanted to write these words of comfort in memory of his mother, to illustrate the solace and consolation we can find in God’s promises in the Bible. The result is a more serene, hopeful, and visionary work.
Not long ago, you received an award from the King of Sweden.
I have received many awards, but I cherish this one in particular. It is very rare. It is a gold medal, the Seraphim Medal, which was established in 1743 by the then King of Sweden, Frederick I, and is rarely awarded. It is the highest honour that can be bestowed upon an ordinary Swedish citizen.
Your incredible successes encourage other talented people to work hard and be disciplined. But is success always a consequence of having values and character?
Success and achievement are not the same thing. You can have many achievements and still not be successful. Sometimes, value is only recognised after several generations have passed and those people have died. Success can be cheap. I have never thought of success as a life goal. I have never set out to be happy. If that’s your goal, you’ll work hard to make money and try to do so in the easiest and fastest way possible. This has nothing to do with quality of life. Happiness is a gift. It comes when you do good work and are satisfied with what you have achieved, knowing that it means something not only to you, but also to your family and society. You do something for someone else. I would do it even if I weren’t paid, even if I didn’t become famous or receive any other kind of reward. I would perform anyway because it’s what I’m meant to do. The reward is in God’s hands, philosophically speaking.
You have to do something because you enjoy it and because it’s what you have to do. You may later be rewarded with a medal or other forms of recognition. But recognition is a gift. It’s an added bonus to the joy you get from doing what you should be doing.
Doing what you love and what you feel is your calling is not a luxury or an elitist pursuit. Everyone, regardless of their place in life, should do this.
Yes, this is for everyone. Any work should be done for its intrinsic value. It’s not the type of work you do that makes you noble, but your dedication to it. That is what gives a person nobility.
Do you think this partly explains why you still conduct 80—90 concerts a year with the world’s best orchestras at your venerable age?
Absolutely. What keeps us musicians going is our incredible love for music. But that love cannot be sustained if the music is not of a high standard. This music is so beautiful that you can never master it completely.
Your whole life becomes a search for truth in music. It takes a lot of effort, and sometimes you feel like you’ve achieved very little, yet there’s still so much more to accomplish. That’s why we persevere and never give up—because we always believe that there is more to discover.
A work of art is never truly finished; it is simply put aside. Sometimes, we have to stop for various reasons, such as illness, death, or accident. Until then, however, we are driven by the desire to find the ultimate truth. We know we will never discover it. At least, not in this life. Sharing what we have with others helps us to move forward and gives us strength.
Art inspires us, offering new perspectives on life and helping us to understand its meaning a little better. In order to have a meaningful life, we need to know our roots. It is a great privilege to be able to take part in this.
Thank you very much. May God continue to give you strength in your search for truth through music and in your understanding of Him, and may you continue to find joy in doing what you have been called to do.
