Itongadol.- Two years after the controversy over his Kashmir concert, renowned music conductor Zubin Mehta,79, is set to return to India, this time for a collaboration with Australian World Orchestra in Delhi in October. Over a telephonic conversation from Tel Aviv, he talks about what really happened, his memories of Bombay and why he is in constant touch with his friends from India
Your last visit to India, for the Shalimar Bagh concert in Kashmir, became controversial. Looking back, do you think it could have been done differently?
Well, we didn’t do anything wrong except make music there. It was a group in Kashmir that opposed the concert. The people of Kashmir didn’t oppose it. The thing is, that when the concert was televised in Kashmir, 70 per cent of Kashmirsaw it. The negative views were aired half-a-week before the concert took place. The state government, of course, was on our side as was the central government. I’m glad we did it. I would do it all over again.
Discord in the Valley continued even after you left. How do you react when arts and politics collide?
We played our concert the way we had decided to. The fact that we played Kashmiri music with Kashmiri musicians was very well-received. Kashmiri musicians were threatened before the concert, but not one stayed back. They all turned up and we were very proud. It was a positive experience all through. I know there were negative comments. It came from the separatists and they were not successful in stopping the concert.
You have never shied away from taking a political stand — be it performing with your orchestra in war-torn Sarajevo and Bosnia or playing Wagner in Israel, where his music and ideas are considered anti-Semitic.
I happen to be the music director of an orchestra that lives in a state of crisis and has done so for the last 60 years. It’s not that every time I come to Israel, bombs go off. Sometimes, yes. Last year, we had that barrage of rockets from Gaza, which — thank god for the iron dome that Israel has developed — was stopped. Otherwise, half of Tel Aviv would have been in ruins today, considering how many rockets were fired. As for the Wagner concert, we tried that as far back as in the year 1981. We haven’t tried it since then. I’m very sorry that we are not playing it, but it will happen again one day. But one has to consider the emotions of the people there. People are still living with numbers on their arms. They don’t want to be transported back to the days of terror. One can understand that.
You call Tel Aviv home these days. Your designation says you are ‘conductor for life’ for the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. What has been your relationship with the country?
Initially, when I first came here, after seven years in Vienna, it did seem closer to an Asian atmosphere and that was helpful. My official home is Los Angeles, but I still consider India my home.
You’ve founded the Buchmann-Mehta School of Music, a unique Arab-Israel partnership with the Tel-Aviv University to promote music education among Palestinians. How did that come about?
It’s a foundation we have in northern Israel, in an Israeli-Arab town. We cannot teach beyond the West Bank, Israelis are not allowed in Ramallah. But in the town of Nazareth and Shwaram, we have about 150 young students, who also study Arabic music and are coached by Arab teachers. They are supervised by members of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and we have had great results. I have a music school at the University of Tel Aviv. In that school, there are some seven or eight Arab students from the north, who are being taught full-time by the Philharmonic members. My dream is to have an Israeli-Arab track in the Israel Philharmonic. And it will happen one day. There is no bias in the orchestra against the Arabs. We have an Arabic soloist. A very fine Arabic pianist plays with us sometimes.
How difficult is it for you to invite certain artistes to Israel? Do you see some of them rejecting the idea of collaboration because of the policies of a country you live in?
Some great artistes just don’t come because they do not agree with the politics of Israel. They don’t tell us directly, of course. Some don’t come because we are not a rich orchestra and we don’t pay much. But if you look at our season’s calendar, we are fine with world class artistes and conductors. We’ve got to nurture the future generation.
Let’s go back a little in time. Tell me about your years in Bombay in the ’40s and ’50s. What do you remember of that city?
I remember everything. That is why it makes me really sad when I go back to Bombay now because of what it has become architecturally. I left when I was 18, so I
wasn’t a child. I remember the British leaving. I remember (Jawaharlal) Nehru saying goodbye to Mountbatten. I remember going to the cricket matches, the Parsi pavilion, going to St Mary’s school. It still comes back so clearly. I stay in touch with my friends of those days even now. Sometimes, even on a daily basis. You know why? For the cricket scores. I just have to know those.
Growing up in a home where music was an intrinsic part of life, was taking it up as a profession a natural progression? Did you ever want to do something else?
I never really wanted to do anything else. My parents brainwashed me into trying to become a doctor. Obviously, they could never convince me. I studied two semesters of medicine at St Xavier’s college. But I knew it wasn’t for me. There was not one thing in our house that didn’t have music in it. Music was probably my first language. I knew it even before I knew how to speak Gujarati.
You moved to Vienna in 1954, when you were 18, from a country where music was deeply rooted to the oral tradition. Could you take me through that time? How was the music different?
I never felt any bias against me in Vienna. I had boys from seven religions in my class at St Mary’s school. We made fun of each other but there was no hatred. When I went to Vienna, I heard anti-Semitic remarks for the first time. It was shocking to me, but as an Indian, I never experienced any bias. I did feel it quite strongly when I was in Liverpool though.
The Bombay Symphony Orchestra, founded by my father (Mehli Mehta), was hardly a well-knit orchestra. It comprised Parsi amateurs, Goan folk musicians and some members of the Navy band. So you can imagine the culture shock I got when I heard a real orchestra play in Vienna for the first time. And that orchestra was the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, which even today is the world’s greatest orchestra. My ears just popped open.
What goes on in your mind, while you are on that rostrum (for an orchestra) or while you are in the pit (for an opera)?
Only the music. Believe me, it’s a combination of presentation and interpretation, of breathing with the musicians. All the work you have done in rehearsals comes to fruition at the concert. So there is immense amount of concentration.We have to have the knowledge, technical command and control to convince 100 musicians of our interpretation. To do that and present a programme in four rehearsals, it takes a lot of expertise and experience.
Do you find time to listen to Indian music?
Yes, I do and enjoy it immensely. This month, I’m going to Salzburg for a speech and there, my dear friend Alarmal Valli is performing. I’m quite excited about that.