What 
          may have been London’s loss, has been Zürich’s, 
          and now, Cleveland’s gain. But may be not. 
          When Franz Welser-Möst was catapulted 
          on to the London music scene to take over 
          concerts with the LPO because of an indisposed 
          Klaus Tennstedt he was a virtually unknown 
          greenhorn in his mid 20s. He immediately established 
          a close relationship with this orchestra and 
          showed enormous promise. In 1990, the LPO’s 
          sadly missed late Klaus Tennstedt stepped 
          down as its music director because of ill 
          heath and it was Welser-Möst who succeeded 
          him. His self-confidence, the strong backing 
          by prominent people, who rightly believed 
          in his talent and leadership qualities and 
          his rapport with the orchestra seemed to be 
          the ideal qualifications. But he took over 
          at a time of great upheaval and uncertainty 
          for the London freelance orchestras and he 
          was in no way prepared for the political battles 
          which lay ahead. 
        
        Naturally, 
          he made mistakes, but he had no real backing 
          from the LPO’s board, itself fighting internal 
          problems. Soon, the orchestra turned against 
          him and so did the critics. For me it is a 
          sad fact that in London well disguised artistic 
          mediocrity pays off, but not risk taking. 
          Welser-Möst took risks; often he succeeded, 
          but not always. All the concerts I attended 
          during his six-year reign as Music Director 
          of the LPO showed brilliant, if some times 
          risky or occasionally uneven music making; 
          his programming did not always go down well 
          with the RFH audiences either. Finally, the 
          critics decided his downfall and in 1996 he 
          left to become Music Director of the Zürich 
          Opera House. In 2002, he succeeded Christoph 
          von Dohnányi as Music Director of that 
          most cultivated of the great American orchestras, 
          the Cleveland. My spies there are all very 
          happy indeed to have such an engaged and versatile 
          chief conductor, who spends more time with 
          the orchestra than anybody before him. 
        
        Franz 
          Welser-Möst was certainly not made for 
          London at this early stage in his career. 
          Having been an admirer of his intense and 
          direct musical command, I was only too happy 
          to welcome him back for two concerts with 
          the LSO at the Barbican. For unforeseen reasons 
          I had to miss the first, but the second concert 
          delivered the proof I was longing for. He 
          had matured without having lost any of his 
          risk taking, any of his vibrant directness 
          and bite or his appetite for unusual programs. 
          To open a concert with the 4th Symphony by 
          Sibelius, his most modern work `close to European 
          Expressionism´ and in his own words a  
          "psychological symphony" is dangerously 
          courageous. An audience not too familiar with 
          this work, which is difficult to understand 
          and which allows various interpretations in 
          its moods, colours and its breath, may drift 
          away. Not everybody seemed able to concentrate 
          or follow the extremely dark, depressive and 
          introvert line Welser-Möst had opted 
          for. But the LSO followed his intentions passionately 
          and came up with a rare intensity and an incredible 
          pianissimo, where necessary. 
        
        For 
          Welser-Möst this symphony rightly mirrors 
          Edvard Munch´s paintings; the dance like second 
          and the slow third movement possessed a Mahleresque 
          character, while the last movement finished 
          with deeply felt resignation. In 1908, after 
          having had surgery to remove a tumour from 
          his throat, Sibelius´ thoughts were encircled 
          by his mortality, a motive dictating the complexity 
          of the entire symphony. Mortality may also 
          have played an important part in Mozart´s 
          last work, the commissioned, but unfinished, 
          Requiem Mass in D Minor, KV 626, which followed 
          after the interval. 
        
        But 
          as much as Mozart may have also written it 
          for himself, he remained a child of his time, 
          when music for the church used to be jubilant, 
          earthy and joyful. His Requiem is no exception 
          – and Welser-Möst together with a slightly 
          smaller LSO and the entire London Symphony 
          Chorus proved this point with an unforgettable 
          and inspired interpretation of lightness, 
          contrast, breathtaking tempi and overpowering 
          beauty. Of the four excellent soloists, the 
          soprano Sally Matthews, in particular, deserves 
          to be mentioned. Her entrance with `Kyrie 
          eleison. Christe eleison` sounded like an 
          angel from Heaven – an ideal voice for the 
          Countess in "Le nozze di Figaro". 
          With the first part of the Lacrimosa, Mozart’s 
          autograph ends. Here, Welser-Möst created 
          a tranquillity and mood of distant eternity. 
          
        
        After 
          Mozart’s death his friend and pupil Franz 
          Xaver Süßmayr finished the Requiem 
          following as closely as possible the instructions 
          Mozart had given him on his deathbed. But 
          the final Agnus Dei sounds somehow pompous 
          and disappointing. As soon as it had died 
          away, Welser-Möst kept his arms up and 
          a couple of seconds later finished the Requiem 
          with the short motet "Ave verum corpus" 
          – the best solution I have ever experienced 
          and the ideal way to bring Mozart’s last work 
          to a fitting conclusion. Chorus and orchestra 
          delivered this exquisite gem in unsurpassable 
          style – one could even feel, how the audience’s 
          flesh began to creep.
        Hans-Theodor 
          Wohlfahrt