Absolutely on Music: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa (Book Review)

by Karl Nehring

Murakami, Haruki. Absolutely on Music: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa. New York: Alfred A Knopf, 2016.

 

The world of classical music lost a legendary figure earlier this month when the revered and beloved Japanese conductor Seiji Ozawa (1935-2024) passed away at the age of 88. February 6 has long been a memorable day in my life, for it was my ETS day – the day I was discharged from active duty in the U.S. Army, way back in 1975. But from now on, February 6, the day of Seiji Ozawa’s passing, will have an additional memory attached to it, making it a bittersweet day of remembrance for the rest of my time here on this watery orb. My guess would be that most lovers of classical music have at least a few recordings in their collection that feature Maestro Ozawa. He was at the helm of the venerable Boston Symphony Orchestra for nearly 30 years and with that orchestra made a number of noteworthy recordings, especially of French music. In particular, his recordings of Ravel with the BSO are among the finest available. Later in his career he returned to Japan and made some outstanding recordings with the Saito Kinen Orchestra, which he founded.

 

There is most likely a subset of classical musical fans that includes fans of the Japanese author Haruki Murakami. I first became acquainted with his writing when I pretty much randomly picked up a paperback copy some years ago of his novel Kafka on the Shore to read while recuperating from some impending surgery. I found myself spellbound, and since then have read just about every book he has ever published, fiction and non-fiction as well. When Absolutely on Music was first published in 2016, I eagerly borrowed a copy from my favorite library and dug right in. What a delightful, educational, absorbing book it turned out to be!

 

Note the subtitle: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa. Note also that the book is based on some deep, thoughtful conversations rather than some scattered, perfunctory interviews. Murakami had become friends with Ozawa during the conductor’s tenure in Boston, but the two seldom discussed music. Only much later, in Japan in 2009 after Ozawa became ill with cancer, did the two really begin to discuss music. Ozawa was recuperating from treatment; being away from active involvement with music, he now felt he could take the time to reflect and talk about it. Murakami was an interested layman. His principal musical passion is jazz, but as he writes, “I have also been listening to classical music with no less enjoyment, collecting classical records since I was in high school, and going to concerts as often as time would permit.” During one of Ozawa’s visits to Murakami’s home, the conductor began telling an interesting story about the famous concert in New York where Glenn Gould and Leonard Bernstein had a severe disagreement over tempi for the Brahms Piano Concerto No.1. Murakami thought it would be a good idea to get this story recorded. Ozawa agreed, and thus began the series of conversations that eventually led to the book.

The book’s contents include: Introduction: “My Afternoon with Seiji Ozawa” First Conversation: “Mostly on the Beethoven Third Piano Concerto” Interlude 1: “On Manic Record Collectors” Second Conversation: “Brahms at Carnegie Hall” Interlude 2: “The Relationship of Writing to Music” Third Conversation: “What Happened in the 1960s” Interlude 3: “Eugene Ormandy’s Baton” Fourth Conversation: “On the Music of Gustav Mahler” Interlude 4: “From Chicago Blues to Shin’ichi Mori” Fifth Conversation: “The Joys of Opera” / “In a Little Swiss Town” Sixth Conversation: “There’s No Single Way to Teach. You Make It Up as You Go Along.” 

The conversations run deep; for example, in ostensibly talking about the Beethoven concerto, Ozawa reveals some surprising details about Leonard Bernstein’s relationship to the orchestra, while Murakami displays a surprisingly keen ear for musical detail as the two listen to various recordings from Murakami’s collection. Throughout the book, we observe two agile minds engaging each other in lively conversation about a subject about which they are both deeply passionate. Between Ozawa’s musical knowledge and Murakami’s mastery of prose, the end result is a volume that eight years after its initial printing deserves a fresh look. This is not a book just for fans of the late conductor; no, it is a book from which just about anyone with an interest in classical music will be able to draw both musical knowledge and reading pleasure.