Cycles of Destiny

Arriving late for an orchestra rehearsal, Osmo Vänskä did not seem like Conductor of the Year (as he’d been named by Musical America magazine for 2005). Associate conductor Mischa Santora had already begun ably conducting Beethoven’s Third Symphony when Vänskä scurried in wearing an electric blue T-shirt that proclaimed in neon yellow letters: “Minnesota Orchestra, Osmo Vänskä, Music Director.”

As soon as Vänskä took the podium, the musicians played like a different ensemble, sharper and more focused, sounding as though they had been called to attention. But Vänskä was not satisfied. He became a congenial taskmaster—always affable and charming—but nonetheless intense, flailing his arms and shouting over the music. He had a clear sense of what he wanted and was confident he would hear it. At one point, he had the second violins play a passage thirteen times because their pianissimo wasn’t soft enough. By rehearsal’s end, it was.

For all his intensity on the podium, Vänskä is casual and down to earth off the podium. His Finnish reserve makes him reluctant to talk about himself initially, but he expounds willingly and passionately about the power of music. “Classical music can change people’s lives,” he says. “Music can go deep into our hearts and souls. It can help us to cry and to feel joy and all things in between. It is a cleansing process for the heart and soul. When that happens, the next morning is easier.”

At fifty-two, with thinning, gray hair, Vänskä bears little resemblance to the angry young man he admits he once was. He recalls the bitterness, early in his career, of watching classmate Esa-Pekka Salonen's meteoric rise on the international scene, while he was stuck in Finland. (Salonen is now music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic.) “The telephone did not ring. I did not get the invitations,” says Vänskä. “But I had to learn to be patient. I had to give time for things to come. They will, if you let them. But I was rushing too soon.”

As he speaks, Vänskä radiates peace and contentment. His two older brothers are Lutheran pastors, and he has cultivated a personal faith that grounds him amid the vagaries of the music world. “I have learned that the long line of a career cannot be planned. Someone has taken care of my life and my career. Too many complicated things have come together for it to be simply coincidence. Only later do you see the plan.”

That plan included becoming principal guest conductor of the Lahti Symphony, a minor Finnish orchestra, in 1985. Three years later, he was named principal conductor and artistic director. Under his leadership, the orchestra developed an international reputation, in part because of the sixty-plus recordings it made on the BIS label, a boutique, audiophile label that specializes in unique repertoire and projects (and made its name with the recordings of the complete orchestral works of Sibelius by Vänskä and Lahti).

Eventually, Vänskä received more prestigious offers, but he chose to remain at Lahti and take on the BBC Scottish Symphony, putting a more glamorous international career on hold. He and his wife, Pirkko, had decided to stay in Finland until all their children had completed high school.

Osmo’s faith in the evolution of his career seems to have been borne out when the Minnesota Orchestra fortuitously offered him the position of music director in 2001—just as his youngest son graduated from high school. “The timing was perfect,” he says. “The kids were starting their lives, and we were ready to start a new life here. I knew the recordings of the old Minneapolis Symphony with Antal Dorati. To lead such a well-known orchestra was a tremendous opportunity.”

Vänskä sees himself building on that grand tradition. Confident in himself and the orchestra from the beginning of his tenure in 2003, Vänskä did two things that are unheard of in a conductor’s inaugural season: He took the orchestra on a European tour and recorded a CD, the first of a complete Beethoven symphony cycle for BIS (and the label’s most mainstream project).

Conventional wisdom dictates that a music director should take several seasons to learn the orchestra before he exposes it and himself to the world. But Vänskä didn’t want to wait. “My idea was to have us play better, as a tighter ensemble,” he says. “On a tour, you must play well. It is a great thing to be motivated, to have to be serious. The pressure meant we had to do it quicker. I never thought about it [as a risk]. I believed it could happen.”

Vänskä’s primary goal over the next few years is to make the Minnesota Orchestra the number one orchestra in the country. “This is a very serious thing for us,” he says. “We can do it. That is a reality for me.”

Minnesota Orchestra general manager Robert Neu believes in Vänskä’s ability to achieve this goal. Neu, who takes great pride in being the first person in the organization to have met Vänskä, attended a concert of his BBC Scottish Symphony in London in 2000. “This was an orchestra that had not enjoyed much renown,” says Neu. “But I was stopped in my tracks. This was very deep music-making.”

Tony Woodcock, orchestra president and CEO, says it was because of Vänskä that he moved from Britain to take the position in Minnesota in 2003. “The prospect of working with this great conductor and orchestra was too tempting,” he says.

The musicians are excited by Vänskä’s vision as well, even though it means greater demands and more pressure. “Rehearsals are tough,” says Michael Sutton, one of the second violinists who played the Beethoven passage thirteen times. “But he gets the job done. He not only works on the music, he works on the orchestra. He pushes us hard to make us better. But he’s always fair and honest—and endearing.” Sutton laughs at the ease with which Vänskä admits his mistakes. “He acts like one of us, more of a player than an iron-fisted music director.”

“I still consider myself a musician,” says Vänskä, who began his career as a clarinetist and sees that experience as key to his relationship with the musicians. “It’s important to have that connection with the players. I don’t want any distance between them and me. The ideal situation is to do things together.”

“He’s a collaborator, not an old-fashioned star maestro,” Woodcock says. “Off the podium, he takes all his duties seriously. He gets involved with the community and with education, and he’s an intuitive fundraiser.”

But it’s the music that is Vänskä’s passion. “The fun part is rehearsals, followed by concerts,” he says. “A good rehearsal is an adventure. It’s like we are all finding new things.”

Vänskä’s behavior in rehearsal is not preparation for his concert demeanor. With his players, he’s flamboyant and dramatic. Surrounded by an audience, he is restrained and directs the focus to the music, not to himself. Even in the familiar repertoire of Beethoven’s symphonies—of which there are at least 100 complete CD sets currently available—Vänskä’s interpretations are unique and individual. Beethoven’s First, for example, is sometimes jokingly called “the greatest symphony that Mozart never wrote.” But Vänskä takes it in a different direction, looking forward to the romantic Beethoven rather than backward at the symphony’s classical roots. The performance is fresh and thought-provoking. At the same time, his interpretations are never flashy or distorted like those of more egocentric conductors whose goal seems to be to draw attention to themselves. There is something essentially humble about Vänskä’s music-making.

“He has such a lack of ego,” Neu says. “He truly believes that we are all here to serve the music.”

According to Sutton, “[Former Minnesota Orchestra music director Eiji] Oue was more about showmanship, the glamour of the podium, and bringing the audience in through a flamboyant interpretation. Osmo is more introspective and cerebral. There’s a lot more focus on the music.”

Such praise pleases Vänskä. “It feels like this is my orchestra,” he says affectionately. “This is our place now. Minneapolis feels like home much sooner than [my wife and I] thought it would.”

The Vänskäs live in a two-floor riverfront condominium within walking distance of the new Guthrie. To maintain some continuity with their life in Finland, the couple has decorated their home with Finnish furnishings purchased here. Nearly every house in Finland has a sauna—and so does the Vänskäs’ Minneapolis home. Taking a sauna is part of the couple’s daily routine here, just as it was in Finland. That routine also includes Osmo’s serious commitment to jogging. At least two or three times a week, he runs for an hour or more, keeping his heart rate in its target zone. “I feel better if I am in good physical condition,” he says, adding that it helps for dealing with jet lag. “Also, I like good food and wine. I get a potbelly very easily. Jogging is the price I have to pay.”

Pirkko, a well-known theater critic in Finland, keeps a low profile in Minnesota and always declines interviews, including for this story. But Osmo says she is an ideal partner. “One part of the job is meeting people,” he says. “That goes better when we two are together.” He also admires her ability to manage their finances between two countries. “She keeps life going.”

Osmo’s social life revolves mostly around the orchestra. He has other community contacts—he and Pirkko are members of Central Lutheran Church—but there is little time to cultivate other relationships. “The large orchestra family has taken care of us,” he says.

Whether at home or out, dining is the Finn’s primary source of socializing. After concerts, he dines with musicians or guests of the orchestra so frequently at Vincent, across Nicollet Mall from Orchestra Hall, that, he says, “they keep the kitchen open late for us and don’t close until we’re finished.” He and Pirkko often attend parties hosted by the orchestra’s musicians. “He is just one of us,” Sutton says. “If I were to invite him to dinner, his first question would be what he could bring.”

When the couple entertains at home, Osmo likes to end the evening with a sauna. Neu, for his part, always refuses. “I do not get undressed in front of my boss!”

Woodcock, who owns a condo in the same building as the Vänskäs’, shares the sauna with him often. While they sweat, they work, planning future seasons and discussing orchestra matters. “It’s a Finnish tradition,” Woodcock says. “Taking off your clothes before entering represents a divesting of status. And in that alien environment, you behave differently. That’s the theory—and it’s true. We [get very] creative in there.”

Vänskä admits that he’s wilder than most people might suspect. He tears around on a Yamaha Direct Star 650 and is proud that it looks like a Harley. Pirkko also rides, and the two look forward to exploring northern Minnesota. “We haven’t had enough free time. We’ve been too busy,” he says. “But I long to get out and feel free.”

This summer, he and Pirkko made time to visit friends in Tanzania. (It was an appointment to get the necessary yellow fever shots for the trip that caused him to be late for rehearsal.) And Osmo is glad the National Hockey League has solved its problems and looks forward to attending as many Wild games as possible this season.

The Beethoven concerts that occupied much of this past spring’s orchestra program have had an added significance: Symphonies No. 3 and 8 are being recorded for the second CD of the complete set. London’s Financial Times described the first disk, with Symphonies No. 4 and 5, as “the modern Beethoven recording par excellance,” so anticipation is high. But Vänskä refuses to acknowledge any additional pressure. “To me, every performance is the most important one,” he says. “I hate the idea that we have to concentrate more when it’s something important. When we were on our Minnesota tour this year, to places like Willmar and Cokato, this was their only classical music event in many years, so it was just as important as the recording. We must always play our best.”

During the recording sessions, despite the high stakes and the intense time pressures, Vänskä is unflappable. He works well with longtime producer Rob Suff, whose attention to detail rivals Vänskä’s. Their collaboration is one reason the recordings are so good. Unable to finish both symphonies during the June sessions, they will reconvene in January to complete the final two movements of the Eighth. The CD will be released in 2006, and the remaining three will come out in the next five years.

One of the fringe benefits of having Vänskä as music director is his long-term relationship with BIS and the recording contract. Few North American orchestras are so lucky. The contract raises the profile of the organization and spreads the word about the ensemble that Vänskä is molding, as his commitment to it deepens. This summer his contract with the Minnesota Orchestra was extended an additional four years, meaning he’ll be around at least through the 2010–11 season.

He's on the short list of major orchestras all over the world,” says Sutton. “We’re lucky to hold on to him for another four years. He knows how to get the absolute maximum out of every player. We may never have the largest payroll of the major orchestras, but thanks to Osmo, we’re the orchestra with the most heart.”

William Randall Beard is the opera columnist for Mpls.St.Paul Magazine.