TRIBUTE TO PIERRE AUDI | Festival d’Aix—en—Provence

A LOVELY EVENING IN AIX IS NOT ENOUGH; NOW MORE THAN EVER, WE NEED ENCOUNTERS WITH ARTISTIC PROJECTS THAT HAVE MEANING.

Pierre Audi

INTERVIEW WITH PIERRE AUDI, PUBLISHED IN LE FESTIVAL D’AIX-EN-PROVENCE — AVANT-SCÈNE OPÉRA N°334 (MAY 2023)

What did the Festival d’Aix represent for you before you took over as director? What image of it, or experiences with it, did you have — as a festival-goer, an artist, or the director of an organisation in the public sector?

Pierre Audi: For a long time, my knowledge of the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence was patchy at best: I attended it only occasionally, for specific events. My connection grew stronger when Bernard Foccroulle became the director and we began to imagine co-productions between Amsterdam and Aix for a variety of projects with different formats and objectives. I never imagined I might be the director one day. It’s true that I had certain preconceptions about French cultural institutions — not because of their artistic offering, which was obviously excellent (and which, in fact, played a key role in my own training), but due to their operations, which were said to be unwieldy. I also had reservations about French audiences, who didn’t seem to love music the same way Anglo-Saxon and Dutch audiences did, and appeared to have a complicated relationship with their own musical heritage. I always make decisions instinctively. When I was approached to succeed Bernard Foccroulle, I told myself that if destiny was asking me to turn my attention to the Festival d’Aix, perhaps it meant I could be useful there: that I could serve it by sharing my own experience. I admired Bernard’s work; some of his ideas could be extended or reoriented; I could also add something new — my own list of contacts — and thereby generate a decade of editions that would bring the Festival full-step into the twenty-first century, and up to speed with the profound changes in the world. We could do this by moving forward while simultaneously drawing inspiration from the past, from all the paths the Festival — a veritable chameleon — had already taken, including Mozart, baroque music and bel canto, as well as contemporary creation. Accepting the position allowed me to revise my preconceptions, and of that, I’m very glad. Especially with respect to the audience: yes, the Festival is rooted in a very specific place, in the extraordinary region of Provence — and in the magical city of Aix, to boot — but in fact, it’s an international event. You can engage not only with a regional and national audience, but also with festival-goers from all over the world. Hence, I could think of this festival as a festival of the world, which suited me perfectly: my entire career has involved applying an international approach to institutions with strong local identities, whether in Lebanon, England, the Benelux countries, or now in France.

What, in your view, forms the essence of a festival?

Pierre Audi: In my view, the mission of a festival is to offer audiences new experiences, thanks to new artists, new works, and new artistic forms: what traditional institutions haven’t dared to attempt, festivals are there to test out, and therefore show the way. That’s why I’ve always attached so much importance to creation and contemporary music. Another constant in the way I approach a festival is my conviction that no edition should resemble the one before, and no formula should ever be repeated, even if it was a success: each edition must be a new festival, in and of itself. Every year, the audience should come back not to some church-like institution, but rather to an adventure — even if that means reshuffling your entire deck — your entire programming — year after year, and destabilising things. It’s also very important for me to offer a rich and diverse programme that inserts staged operas into a broader, more meaningful, constellation. That’s why, in parallel to its opera productions, the Festival has gradually redeveloped an ambitious concert programme, as it did under Gabriel Dussurget. Such an offering enhances key dramatic elements, reveals unexpected connections, and broadens perspectives. This programming draws on the strong talents in residency and on long-term artistic partnerships, while also allowing for prestigious artists invited on a one-off basis. It also spans all periods and styles: from baroque music to contemporary creation, and from symphonic concerts to song recitals, including chamber music, jazz, and music from throughout the Mediterranean. I’ve also developed concert versions of operas in order to give great vocalists — some of whom are highly celebrated, while others have been overlooked during different periods of the Festival — their rightful place. This gamble seems to be paying off: the Festival is attracting new audiences, and certain festival-goers who had drifted away are beginning to return.

My approach to the Festival d’Aix draws on experiences I’ve had or continue to have directing other festivals, including a contemporary music festival during my time at the Almeida Theatre in London; the Holland Festival in Amsterdam, which introduced opera into a continuum that spans from instrumental music to new trends and includes both theatre and dance; and, also in Amsterdam, the Opera Forward Festival, which is more strictly devoted to contemporary creation and musical theatre, in addition to its main opera programme, whose future it may well be shaping; and finally, in parallel with the Festival d’Aix, the Park Avenue Armory in New York, which epitomises my efforts to revitalize the relationship between a work, the audience and the venue, and to generate new artistic forms.

And what makes Aix-en-Provence unique?

Pierre Audi: What struck me when I first arrived was that the city of Aix-en-Provence has the feel and prestige of a big city, but has a more modest infrastructure and population. It does, however, have two major opera houses — the Théâtre de l’Archevêché and the Grand Théâtre de Provence — but I felt that they’d been underused up to then. So, one of the goals I set for myself when I came here was to tap into the full symphonic potential of these venues — and by that I mean, to programme more operas with large orchestras. The Ring, in the early 2000s, had already opened the way; this approach needed to become more systematic, although it obviously represents a significant financial challenge.

And clearly, a festival must also have magical venues. During Bernard Foccroulle’s time, there had been — in addition to the Archevêché, of course — the Grand-Saint-Jean. Its loss, I felt, was deeply regrettable. I looked into ways we might revive the site, and considered having a new theatre built there. And then I discovered the Stadium: a very different space, which seemed to me to have the potential to significantly refresh the Festival’s programming model and expand the types of projects we could offer our audiences. I also looked into ways to find other potential partners in the region — which led to our collaboration with the LUMA Foundation in Arles.

Finally, the Festival benefits from two unique laboratories — its Académie and its “Mediterranean” department — which both enrich it and are nourished by it. The Académie, along with the network it’s a part of, enables us to explore such fields as innovative short forms and musical theatre. The Académie also addresses two issues I care deeply about, after the long career that I’ve had: the transmission of knowledge and traditions, and the future of our professions. I see it as a vital forum for both theoretical and practical reflection on these issues. And the Festival’s Mediterranean foundation — a topic reinvigorated by Bernard Foccroulle — obviously resonates deeply with me, coming as I do from a country that never truly had a theatre tradition and is currently in the midst of a profound crisis and a search for identity. It’s not that I believe the future of opera lies there; but rather, it’s because looking southwards brings a distinctive hue to our programming, it bolsters the international scope of the Festival, and reinforces the ideal of aesthetic and cultural diversity — something that was already in motion here before it became a central concern of our era. As for the Orchestre des Jeunes de la Méditerranée: before my arrival, it could change conductor every year. So I wanted to appoint a single music director, Duncan Ward, who would build a vision for it over several seasons, in order to bring out its distinct identity and expand its influence. During my second term, which begins in 2024, I’ll continue to reform these institutions in light of what has, or hasn’t, proved successful.

What’s your method for programming?

Pierre Audi: In terms of repertoire, naturally, I rely on the cornerstones of the Festival, which have come to define it over time — from early baroque music to Mozart and to contemporary creations — whilst still questioning the works. For example: how can we ensure that the annual Mozart opera doesn’t become a forced reflex, a matter of routine? I also unearth buried treasures, such as bel canto; I endorse previously tested hypotheses that have met with success, as with Wagner; and I introduce new names that have been unjustly overlooked, like Puccini and Berg. My first edition, in 2019, included two works — Requiem, staged by Romeo Castellucci and conducted by Raphaël Pichon, directing Pygmalion; and Tosca, in co-production with the Opéra de Lyon, conducted by Daniele Rustioni and staged by Christophe Honoré — that were very representative of this approach.

The long-term relationships you’ve built with certain artists also seem to play an essential role.

Pierre Audi: It’s true that several of the figures who’ve helped give a strong identity to my first term are artists I’ve had the chance to work with in the past. My relationship with Simon Rattle goes way back — I’ve known him since I was 21. The same goes for Simon McBurney: our relationship dates from well before he made his debut in opera, through me — which was, in itself, a long process. It also took some time for Thomas Ostermeier and me to get to know each other before the Threepenny Opera project took form. And it was through me that Simon Stone was first programmed at the Holland Festival and in New York. And then there’s my work with Raphaël Pichon on Monteverdi’s Vespro in Amsterdam: it led to a very strong relationship, both artistically and personally, which has had a major impact on the Festival. The same is true for Romeo Castellucci. Not to mention the composers I’ve developed special ties with: I’ve co-produced all of George Benjamin’s operas since the beginning; and I’d already worked at least five times with Kaija Saariaho before we took on the vast project of Innocence.

What all of these artists have in common — and we could add Dmitri Tcherniakov to the list — is their high standards, and their refusal to repeat the same formulae. That necessarily means a tailor-made, unpredictable, and complex approach. Another thing they have in common is that they’re not really “opera makers”, but are more at the crossroads between opera and theatre. Actually, I’m drawn to creators who shift boundaries, who try to destabilise — in a good way — the opera genre. Conductors like Raphaël Pichon and Leonardo García Alarcón do this in their own way as well. The Festival is also, for me, an opportunity to discover new talent, like the composer Adam Maor, who was still unknown when The Sleeping Thousand premiered, and Andrea Breth, who had never been programmed before in France; to combine artists from different horizons in unexpected ways, such as with the Ballets russes, which featured three filmmakers and the young conductor Klaus Mäkelä leading the Orchestre de Paris; or to commission an opera like The Arab Apocalypse, based on the major poetic work by Etel Adnan. This broadening of the operatic sphere — particularly through dialogue with other art forms — is, for me, essential.

In practical terms, how do you go about doing that?

Pierre Audi: The key principle is to listen to the artists rather than commission this or that from them. I try to find projects that artists are already pursuing and make them possible. This has been my philosophy throughout my career, especially when it comes to creating operas: although as the director of different institutions I’ve facilitated the creation of many operas, strictly speaking, I’ve never commissioned one. And I apply the same principle to my work with stage directors and conductors, by trying to see with them how the Festival can help make their dreams a reality. This is the only way to generate unique projects, instead of artificial constructs. A second principle I have is to incite — but not force — meetings between artists who operate in distinct spheres. Directors, who are by nature very busy, rarely have the opportunity to go and listen to conductors, and conductors rarely see performances other than the ones that they conduct. Sometimes they’ve heard of an artist and are intrigued, so I facilitate their meeting; sometimes, based on a hunch about their potential chemistry, I attempt a pairing between artists who don’t know each other at all. It’s a risk — it doesn’t always work — but without taking that risk, you don’t get stimulating programming.

Another principle I’ve implemented is to work, one year, mainly with foreign orchestras, and the next year, mostly with French ensembles. This allows us to create a connection between the audience and the orchestras without falling into a rut. The fact that we don’t have a resident orchestra is also an advantage, because we always invite ensembles along with their conductors. In the past, the Festival built a beautiful relationship with William Christie and Les Arts Florissants. This has also happened with Sir Simon Rattle, first with the Berliner Philharmoniker, followed by the London Symphony Orchestra — we have a unique relationship, which will now continue with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. In this way, we can offer audiences not just one, but several orchestral sounds: it’s extremely enriching, and allows music to be heard differently. What’s more, just as our stage directors tend to come from the world of theatre, these ensembles are generally not “opera orchestras”. This approach also makes projects like Resurrection possible, bringing to the stage works that are, in theory, non-theatrical — such as Mahler’s Second Symphony.

What does the fact that you’re also an artist bring to this exchange?

Pierre Audi: It plays a vital role. The synergy between the different activities I’ve taken on throughout my career has allowed me to develop a method as a self-taught man. Artists know I’m not an administrator who’ll simply attach their name to an institution as one does to a luxury brand: they know I’m interested in the creative process and that I’ll be involved. They often use my stage directing experience as a compass in our dialogue: they might ask for advice, or expect criticism, or be surprised if I give them total freedom. Over the course of my career, I’ve built a reputation for being consistent and reliable — that helps keep the dialogue open for a long time when talking to artists about potential projects. And the fact that I’m also the artistic director of the Park Avenue Armory and an advisor to the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam obviously benefits Aix (and vice versa): the world has become a much smaller place than it once was, and this gives me more weight with artists who naturally seek global visibility. It also allows us to experiment and fine-tune a work here before presenting it elsewhere — in essence, to broaden the dissemination of our productions, which is clearly preferable to the ersatz experience of streaming. Knowing, for instance, that Resurrection will now be performed in Paris, in New York and soon even in Argentina — for the 40th anniversary of the end of the dictatorship — is deeply moving.

Like all cultural institutions, the Festival has recently faced difficult times, due to the health, geopolitical, economic and environmental crises. What was that like you for you? What future do you see for opera, and for an organisation like the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence?

Pierre Audi: Because of its scale and financial needs, opera — an art form that combines all others arts, and is extremely costly — was suited to more prosperous times, but it’s clearly in a precarious position with the difficult period we’re going through now. So, it depends more than ever on an audience that is willing and able to pay. I won’t pretend that this doesn’t concern me, but the economic model in the world of opera must take this dependency into account. For that reason, we’re undertaking efforts to simultaneously renew and diversify our audiences — through the outreach work of our educational and socio-artistic department, Passerelles, and via our efforts to find ways of broadening the dissemination and visibility of our programming. The enormous amount of work that goes into each of our productions must absolutely be maximised. This series of crises is clearly a threat to opera, because it could inhibit any risk-taking and tempt institutions to fall back on the most conservative options, out of fear. And while that might seem, in a sense, like a healthy solution, it could actually accelerate the genre’s ageing process — and ultimately its demise. So we must find ways to navigate these constraints. I’m very lucky, because the Festival d’Aix is a bit like a multi-manual organ: it allows us to modulate the future by balancing economic challenge with artistic commitment. These crises, which constantly force us to re-evaluate, to make choices, paradoxically teach us to remain agile. Simply put, to the usual courage required for artistic risk-taking, the director of an institution must now add the courage to weather storms that assail the ship from all sides — and these storms aren’t about to subside. It’s a delicate balancing act. I can’t do anything unless I’m convinced of the spiritual power of what I’m undertaking. For me, opera possesses that power, which makes it particularly relevant and necessary today. In my view, a festival is better positioned than a traditional opera house to demonstrate and embody such power, because it’s, by nature, an institution that must constantly reinvent itself; it is, in a way, condemned to do so. That’s why our festival cannot confine itself to the postcard image of a sugar-coated evening of opera under the stars: a lovely evening in Aix is not enough; now more than ever, we need encounters with artistic projects that have meaning.

Interview by Timothée Picard, 14 November 2022