The Symphony is having a celebration of Michael Tilson Thomas’ 80th birthday this weekend. It is bittersweet because he has brain cancer and is in bad shape. There was a rehearsal yesterday that was opened to certain people. I was invited but I chose to not attend. My little group of retirees had discussed this a few months ago and the consensus was that we preferred to remember Michael as he was and not how he is.
I found a post (linked here) that I had written in October 2023 in which I said he would never return to the podium. In fact, he did return to the SFS podium the following March and he appeared again yesterday (and presumably will for the concert tonight). Amazingly, he’s also continued to conduct other orchestras around the world as well.
In general, he does ok while actually conducting, but rehearsing specific passages is highly problematic as he can’t navigate the pages very well. There are assistant conductors to help him. Off the podium, he’s very spaced out. Even a year ago, when I last saw him, he seemed only dimly aware of his surroundings. His husband Joshua, along with other helpers, was with him constantly.
Michael was the Music Director when I was hired as Stage Manager so I had an interview with him. For complicated reasons, it was over the phone. I spent most of the time trying to establish my bona fides as someone who had long standing ties to the orchestra and understood the art form. He was cordial but nothing I said animated him. As we worked together over the next 9 months, it was more of the same. He was nice enough, but distant. He already knew it was his last year as Music Director. In truth, I already felt that he had been phoning it in for a few years.
All the plans to celebrate his last year at the Symphony were blown up by Covid-19. Our massive European tour was cancelled and the final Mahler 6 that everyone was looking forward to in June 2020 never happened.
So, Happy Birthday Michael! I do not wish him many happy returns because I don’t think there will be any. Spaced out does not mean unhappy, though. Even a year ago, with his mind failing, he seemed happy. So, I wish him what happiness he can find until his days are over. When that happens, the many people who love him will be sad. No doubt the Symphony will put on a big memorial to celebrate his life.
I will go to that.