Five years ago, I first had an occasion to hear how Alexander Vedernikov worked with the orchestra. Those days, he and Dmitry Chernyakov introduced a new generation of singers into one of the best performances of the Bolshoi Theater - "Eugene Onegin." Since then, I’ve been searching for the essence of his conducting mastery. And there was something to search. He always surprised with something far beyond the bounds of the craft. For example, he knew how to give the listener the opportunity to feel the effect of the momentary birth of a musical work, even more than familiar. If you verbalize the impressions of his creative style, prose cannot be avoided: he could miraculously fill music with an authentic life.
After that "Onegin" performance, I dreamt of meeting him, inviting him to a creative meeting in Gnesinka. But it didn't happen. I’ve always thought there was still time, and at the first opportunity I would invite him. I wanted to ask about his work on Leonid Desyatnikov's unique opera “Children of Rosenthal”. Or about how he managed that the Japanese symphony orchestra achieved such a deep sense of the "Russian" sound performing the Sixth Symphony by Tchaikovsky.
The way Alexander Vedernikov embodied artistic ideas, he resembled the past generation of conductors: Kirill Kondrashin, Yevgeny Svetlanov. Probably it was not by chance. Thanks to his father, the great Russian bass singer, he saw, felt and adopted the outgoing culture of the last century. It was he, like no other, who embodied a "bridge" between the past and the present. In addition to intelligence, he inherited from his father an essential thing - the creative scale. As Alexander Filippovich Vedernikov could equally brilliantly play Varlaam and Tsar Boris, so his son mastered different facets of his profession.
Surprisingly, Vedernikov managed in fact only by the means of the art he created to get himself a name. His career seemed to be taking shape by itself. In the early 2000s, he became the chief conductor of the Bolshoi Theater, he had prestigious engagements in the West, and performed with famous artists.
Of course, his near and dear ones would be able to say more accurately, but from the outside it seems that he was a happy person, because he did not make any efforts with a minus sign in the name of success. Everyone remember him now, first of all, with great gratitude. The Copenhagen Opera House representatives have touchingly said about their once chief conductor: "He was a great artist and a wonderful colleague, we miss him so much, knowing his decease has deeply struck each of us."
Probably, Alexander Alexandrovich combined rare qualities — professionalism, an internal ramrod and whatever the circumstances he remained human. They say work and friendship are to be separate. But many people having collaborated with him felt him precisely as a close friend. Evidence of this is a message from BBC Radio: "The world has lost a great musician, and we have lost a friend who brought so much" humanity "to the music being performed. We're so lucky to have worked with him.'
It seems that many of us always felt that we had "little" of him, at least in Moscow: he rarely performed in the capital of Russia, and in general he rarely appeared on television, almost did not give interviews. Didn't he want any "hype", or did we underestimate him? The question has remained rhetorical forever.
In 2019, Alexander Vedernikov was appointed music director and chief conductor of the Mikhailovsky Theater in St. Petersbourg. The professional community was glad for the theater team. Everyone knew that Vedernikov was a worker and countless rehearsals would achieve the proper level of performance. In addition, his readings aroused interest, everyone wanted to talk about them.
Olga Rusanova wrote about his first work in Mikhailovsky (“Aida” by Verdi) in our magazine: "Alexander Vedernikov had the concern of bringing the musical aspect to a high level. It seems to me that he succeeded with the orchestra and choir. Recently, the Mikhailovsky Theater has been placed attention mostly on ballet. But with the arrival of Alexander Vedernikov, I hope, the opera will also be closely engaged." Indeed, one could hope for Vedernikov: in no hurry, knowing his business, he always followed the goal, professing the paramount nature of the artistic process idea.
He adhered to the "never in a hurry" strategy of all along his lifetime, that unfortunately turned out to be short. He started as a pianist, and then consciously deciding to get a high-quality conducting education, he graduated from the Moscow Conservatory with Leonid Nikolaev. Right after receiving his diploma, Alexander Alexandrovich became the conductor of the K. S. Stanislavsky and Vl. I. Nemirovich-Danchenko Theater. There he spent only three years, improving his skills with Mark Ermler, an outstanding conductor, and his style and most importantly, his attitude to music influenced Vedernikov. By the way, in the process of conducting, especially in the first seconds of internal self-organization, he was by far reminiscent of Ermler.
From 1988 to 1995, Alexander Vedernikov could learn from another recognized master — Vladimir Fedoseev, being his assistant in the P. I. Tchaikovsky Grand Symphony Orchestra. As they say, and then everywhere: Milan, Rome, London, Paris, Berlin... The heyday of talent and excitement of youth in the Russian Philharmonic Orchestra he created, eight years at the Bolshoi Theater (many opera titles were performed there solely thanks to him — “Khovanshchina”, for example), the Danish Opera and, in parallel, the Odense Symphony Orchestra, a confident start at the Mikhailovsky Theater and... the 52 hospital in Moscow.
Can many remaining recordings of Alexander Vedernikov’s performances and workshops console the musical community, which has lost another person thinking about art, and not about what is around it? If in our difficult time tragic losses cannot be avoided, then it would be nice for us to learn simple things: to appreciate what we have and to recognize the prophet in our homeland.
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