Mr Thielemann, we know you have a very busy schedule. Why do you still find time to work with students?
Christian Thielemann: Because in recent years, I have felt more and more strongly that at some point, it is important to pass on what you know. When I was young, I received some very good advice – much of it only really sank in over time. At my age and in my position, I see it almost as my duty to take care of them. You can tell that younger people need advice at certain points.
What kind of advice would you like to pass on today?
Herbert von Karajan once told me that you have to breathe with the singers. That was a surprising insight for me as a sixteen-year-old, because at first I thought it was mainly about the orchestra. Later, you understand that you breathe with everything: with the wind instruments, the strings, with the entire musical movement. Making music is something physical, something alive. Associated with this is a serenity that can only come from a precise knowledge of the works. The better you know a piece, the freer you become.
You advocate a broad view of repertoire and stylistics.
Absolutely. I think it's important not to be afraid of anything – from operetta to Beethoven and Brahms to contemporary music. Not everything at once and not under pressure, but with an open mind. In the end, everything is connected anyway. Anyone who thinks they can skip certain areas is depriving themselves of important experiences.
You repeatedly take up the cudgels for operetta. Why?
Because you learn fundamental things there: the finest tempo gradations, rubato, playing freely within clear rules. Once you have seriously studied operetta, you hear and conduct Beethoven differently, Brahms differently – even new music differently. That used to be part of the classical conductor's career, but today it has faded into the background somewhat. Perhaps because careers are supposed to move faster. But conducting is a matter of experience. I myself only now feel that I am really beginning to understand certain things – and with each passing year, one becomes more humble.
What do you look for in students who want to work with you?
Of course, solid technique is essential – piano playing is important – but the decisive factor is the desire to express oneself. I want people who have something to say and are willing to learn how to do so. No copies, no imitators. We all seek inspiration: we listen to how Wilhelm Furtwängler, Bruno Walter or Pierre Boulez interpret a work. Today, thanks to technology and the internet, this is easier than ever. But something unique must emerge from all of this.
So teaching means fewer rules and more suggestions?
Exactly. I remember teachers who played me different versions and then asked: What is your version? That is the crucial point. Students should think for themselves, try things out, play in the truest sense of the word. You can't force them, you have to coax them out of their shell – if there's something there that wants to come out.
Is potential also important to you in entrance exams?
Yes. Perfection isn't everything. I want to discover personalities, not finished artists. Technique is a prerequisite, but not an end in itself. The crucial question is: does this person really want to express something?
You have a close relationship with Salzburg. What does the place mean to you?
Very much so. I have felt at home here for decades. Salzburg is beautiful, but what inspires me most is the surrounding nature – towards Lake Fuschl, Großgmain, the mountains. It is incredibly calming and grounding. And, of course, the Mozarteum University is an important institution with great charisma.
What advice would you give your 18-year-old self today?
Stay relaxed. It's a wonderful but also demanding profession. The rewards are high. You need discipline, but not too much – and passion, without getting tense. Music is the desire to express yourself, and you should preserve that.
Is there anything you couldn't do without in music?
(laughs) Wagner. And Bach, of course. And sometimes a simple song is enough – ‘Am Brunnen vor dem Tore’ always puts me in a good, thoughtful mood.
(First published in Uni-Nachrichten / Salzburger Nachrichten, 14.3.2026)
