Iván Fischer: A Portrait

Text: Helmut Mauró, April 2025

The flutes chirp brightly, the violins scurry around with frenetic energy – and then, suddenly, the trumpets burst in. By that moment, you are fully immersed in this vibrant performance of Johannes Brahms’ Second Symphony: a Romantic masterpiece that demands both immense sonic power and pinpoint precision from the orchestra. It also calls for a conductor with total command of the enormous score – someone able to maintain perspective while guiding a deeply engaged ensemble. And it quickly becomes clear: this conductor not only knows this orchestra inside and out but also shares a rare, intimate musical rapport with them – perhaps more so than with the many world-class orchestras he leads elsewhere. Iván Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra share more than just artistic chemistry; theirs is a lifelong musical bond. For a special musical life marked by dazzling moments and superb performances.

These moments begin well before the concert hall lights dim. They start in rehearsal, where Fischer pursues one goal above all: »That the orchestra plays with creativity and with a deep understanding of the music’s meaning.« That’s more important to him than perfection. »Perfection is not a goal,« he once said in an interview. It’s a kind of credo: to listen more attentively to the harmonic flow than to fixate on every note. These are bold convictions – ones you can only share with musicians for whom perfection is already second nature.

Fischer is always looking for the drama in the music – a pursuit evident in his sweeping gestures and subtly expressive face, which often communicate more than any spoken explanation or metaphor. In his interpretation of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, for instance, he strives to unearth all the anguish and hysterical jubilation of the French Revolution. For him, no note is incidental; every phrase, every musician is woven into the grand, emotional tapestry of Beethoven’s symphonic vision.

Even if Fischer’s musical imagination sometimes exceeds what ultimately reaches the stage, there is still plenty for the audience to marvel at – how thrillingly fresh familiar classics can sound, even when presented in what seems like a conventional form. Iván Fischer is no revolutionary; he doesn’t chase radical reinterpretations or overturn Beethoven, and certainly not Mozart. Instead, he delves into the depths – into what is subtle, mysterious and sometimes uncanny. The challenge and the benefit for the audience is to hear the familiar in a brand new way.

This transformation can take many forms, shaped by the unique traditions and tonal sensibilities of each orchestra. As a guest conductor, Fischer often faces the challenge of limited rehearsal time – precisely when more would be needed to shape nuance. He has worked with many of the world’s leading orchestras: the New York Philharmonic, Munich Philharmonic, Cleveland Orchestra, Orchestre de Paris, Berlin Philharmonic and Israel Philharmonic, among others. Since 2021, he has held the title of Honorary Guest Conductor with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam. He also brings a historically informed perspective conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, shaped by his time assisting early music pioneer Nikolaus Harnoncourt at the Mozarteum in Salzburg for two semesters.

But how feasible is it to get a foreign orchestra to embrace your own musical vision within the limited rehearsal time available? Fischer believes it’s only possible to a certain degree. »It can be very nice, but you need more to reach new heights. That’s why I founded a new orchestra.« He then adds, somewhat unexpectedly, »It’s not about rehearsal time. Visionary conductors like Celibidache needed long rehearsal periods to foster a deeper understanding among the musicians. I deeply respect that, but my working method is fundamentally different. I explain less and focus on creating a working environment where musicians collaborate with the conductor much like actors do with a director: thinking creatively, taking risks and engaging fully.«

Fischer realised early on that the best results could only be achieved with a permanent ensemble. »As a successful young conductor, I felt a lack of creative freedom in conventional orchestras,« he says. »Chamber music was free, communicative and full of commitment, whereas orchestral music often felt mechanical, soulless and boring. I wanted to change that and create a reform orchestra where the playing was like in a string quartet. To do so, I had to establish a different structure, new rules and alternative methods of working.« This is how the Budapest Festival Orchestra (BFO) came into being.

This was back in 1983, alongside pianist Zoltán Kocsis, who passed away in 2016. Fischer describes him as follows: »He was a brilliant pianist and, for many years, he was the only soloist with whom the BFO performed. Zoltán inspired people and set a high standard through his example.« By »people«, Fischer is referring not only to the musicians but also to the audience. These moments often provide the most profound concert experiences, when an entire symphony orchestra merges so seamlessly with a soloist that the soloist can express themselves freely, seemingly completely detached. This requires a rather modest maestro on the podium who remains in the background, subtly guiding the performance, ensuring the dramatic tension flows, while allowing the soloist to shine with virtuosity at the forefront. Iván Fischer excels at this: making his presence felt from the shadows, as it were.

In this regard, he remains entirely traditional: the focus is on the music itself, not on the musician. This reflects the tradition from which Fischer, born in Budapest in 1951, originates. He studied in Vienna under Hans Swarowsky, arguably one of the most influential mentors of conductors. Among Swarowsky’s students were not only Iván and his brother Ádám Fischer, but also renowned figures like Claudio Abbado, Zubin Mehta, Mariss Jansons, Dmitri Kitajenko and Giuseppe Sinopoli. What made Swarowsky so exceptional? »If you were willing, you could learn a great deal from him – especially in analysing and truly understanding classical symphonies from Haydn to Bruckner. He valued faithfulness to the original, respect for form and cultural education,« Fischer recalls. »He didn’t concern himself with interpretation and conducting techniques at all.«

Swarowsky was a conductor with hands-on experience at leading opera houses in the German-speaking world, but he also valued in-depth analytical work. In this respect, he was likely influenced by Arnold Schönberg, one of his own teachers. This approach also shapes Iván Fischer’s outlook on conducting. What mattered most to him, he says, was learning »honesty and a sense of moral responsibility« from Swarowsky. »Many young people are drawn to conducting because they find the role glamorous. He strongly rejected that notion. He taught us that we are merely servants of the composers – translators, essentially. It’s not about you, he would often say.«

Nikolaus Harnoncourt became a kind of counterweight for Iván Fischer. »He was a completely different kind of thinker,« says Fischer. »For me, he perfectly complemented Swarowsky. While Swarowsky taught that only the notes matter, Harnoncourt showed that the true essence lies between the notes. For him, music was a form of communication, like a language. That insight opened my eyes.« The full impact of this realisation only unfolded in Fischer’s own work as a conductor – especially in his collaboration with different orchestras and across various genres. Fischer is equally at home in the world of symphonic music and opera. From 1989 to 1991, he made his debut at the Vienna State Opera with a Mozart cycle. He served as chief conductor of the Opéra National de Lyon from 2000 to 2003 and has led productions in major opera houses in London, Paris, Brussels and Zurich.

In 2023, he also appeared at the Elbphilharmonie with a staged opera performance of Claude Debussy’s »Pelléas et Mélisande«.

In 2018, Fischer founded his own opera festival in Vicenza, Italy, held in the renowned Teatro Olimpico, designed by the even more famous Renaissance architect Andrea Palladio. »It’s in perfect condition,« Fischer notes with admiration. »Opera originated here at the end of the 16th century. I wanted to establish a festival in this historic setting to revisit a fundamental question: how should music, theatre, drama, dance – and the visual and auditory arts in general – interact in a unified artistic experience?«

Each year, the festival presents a single opera production, with Fischer taking on both conducting and stage direction – an approach rooted in historical tradition. He is uncompromising in this respect: »I’m not interested in conventional director-driven opera productions,« he says. »I find it contradictory to keep visually reinventing while musically repeating the same ideas. In Vicenza, we strive to create a new kind of Gesamtkunstwerk. That’s our goal and this theatre, arguably the most beautiful in the world, is the perfect place for it.«

Fischer rarely resorts to grandiose statements, but when he does, they are marked by lightness and restraint. His enthusiasm is refined – an inner flame that burns more intensely than its outward appearance might suggest. That doesn’t mean he remains reserved during concerts or rehearsals. On the contrary, he delights in vivid examples and expressive physical gestures in his conducting – urging, guiding and energising. Each orchestra responds to this in its own way. How has his work with major orchestras influenced his approach with the Budapest Festival Orchestra? »Actually, it was more the opposite,« Fischer explains. »We wanted to approach everything differently from the start. We learned a great deal from soloists and chamber musicians. The first to support me were Sándor Végh and Yehudi Menuhin. Since then, many other orchestras have taken interest in our innovations.«

That is why Iván Fischer avoids naming any single international orchestra as being particularly close to his musical ideals. His answer remains the same: the Budapest Festival Orchestra. »The musical results I achieve with this ensemble surpass those with the world’s most renowned orchestras,« he says. »But I don’t want to live on an island – I need opportunities for self-reflection. When I work with other orchestras, I question myself: Am I right in my approach? Could I be wrong? Do traditional orchestras offer certain advantages?« Sometimes, he finds they do. That’s why he enjoys collaborating with groups like the Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam or the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra in Munich, which he currently considers among the best. »But the freedom and creativity of the Budapest Festival Orchestra are unique.« It’s a conclusion one might expect from the founder of the ensemble – but ultimately, each concert offers a new opportunity to put that belief to the test. And Iván Fischer is not one to shy away from practical judgment.

What ultimately remains for him – what defines the essence of his musical work, his aspirations and efforts? »At 31, my ambition was to save the phenomenon of the symphony orchestra,« Fischer admits, almost apologetically. »Later, I felt a similar calling toward opera. When you’re young, you want to change the world. Now I’m content that some of my reforms have taken hold – that we’ve presented an alternative model, which is now being examined in some places as a vision for the future.«

That alone is no small achievement. And yet, hopes and expectations linger. »Now I just hope that the next generation, who have a much harder time in the age of algorithms, populists and artificial intelligence, can develop their creativity in music. I hope that young people will continue to revitalise this wonderful art, music, with new ideas, with meaning and with human intelligence, and thus make people happy.« It’s a hopeful and optimistic message, though tinged with a quiet melancholy – an undertone all too familiar in a time when cultural funding is increasingly being slashed with little thought for the consequences.

This article appeared in the Elbphilharmonie Magazine (issue2/25).