Lebrecht gives life to these composers/musicians much in the same spirit that they gave of themselves in their own works. In many ways, these stories are as informative as some music history texts. From Bach to Stravinsky, these stories will make you laugh and cry. If you've grown weary of Lebrecht's more recent dark outlooks on the future of classical music, this book looks back on the sunnier days. Full of humorous, informative and touching stories, you won't regret you bought this!

Norman Lebrecht, for those unfamiliar with him, is an institution in the field of music commentary and criticism, and culture in general. He has his own BBC radio show ("Lebrecht Live") , as well as a weekly syndicated newspaper column (now in the London Evening Standard, formerly in the London Daily Telegraph), and is the author of a number of books besides this one. More often than not, Lebrecht can be a curmudgeon with the best of them (but always with the thought in mind of provoking one to think more deeply than usual), and seems to be one of the surviving few these days who can write in the style of the feuilleton (a humorous, often sarcastic, style of arts essay once common in Paris during Berlioz's time, and then brought to even higher heights in fin-de-siècle Vienna when Heinrich Heine "imported" the genre from Paris).

But there is nothing curmudgeonly about "Mahler Remembered," Lebrecht's anthologizing of reminiscences by people who knew Gustav Mahler. Instead, this is a chronological capturing of these reminiscences - many of them appearing in print for the first time - to provide a portrait of Mahler hard to find elsewhere, at least not in any single volume such as this. (The closest book, in terms of recording of reminiscences, is likely "Mahler: His Life, Work and World" by Kurt and Herta Blaukopf. There is some overlap, but Lebrecht's quotations seem fuller, and several in Lebrecht do not appear in Blaukopf.)

Among the highlights are an extended essay by Alfred Roller (Mahler's stage director at the Vienna Court Opera), describing Mahler's physical attributes from an artist's perspective (and giving the lie to any thought that Mahler was less than a fine physical specimen), a humorous tribute by Leo Slezak (a fine Wagnerian tenor in Mahler's troupe) who was not always highly motivated but who, in retrospect, realized that Mahler brought out the best in him, and tributes by his many acolytes, most particularly Arnold Schoenberg, Otto Klemperer and Bruno Walter, as well as famous musicians still remembered today, including Sergei Rachmaninoff, Ferrucio Busoni and Fritz Kreisler. Of these, Busoni's is perhaps the most moving: It was at Mahler's very last concert, in New York, that he had premiered Busoni's "Berceuse élégaique," and it was Busoni who traveled in the company of Mahler on his final journey home from New York to Vienna by way of Cherbourg.

But the book goes well beyond these few names, and these brief highlights. Lebrecht seems to have found something from everyone of significance whose life or career intersected Mahler's, and quite a few from people of no particular historical significance at all save that they knew him and wrote something that is now part of posterity. What emerges is as full a personal portrait of Mahler as one is likely to find without collating bits and pieces from multiple sources and volumes.

I could manage to find only two unfavorable reminiscences, both of them "expected" (and quite well-known) from my earlier readings of writings on Mahler. One is by Franz Schmidt, a near-contemporary composer who was also the principal cellist in Mahler's Vienna orchestra, and the other is by Henry Krehbiel, the very influential music critic of the New York Tribune during the years Mahler spent in America. In Schmidt's case, one can easily read past the professional jealousy that generated his rant; he was after all not nearly as well-known a composer, and was an instrumentalist who chafed under Mahler's directorship. A little bit of historical perspective (not provided by Lebrecht) serves as well to explain Krehbiel's antagonism toward Mahler (a composer whose works he wasn't able to fathom): By the time that Mahler had arrived in New York, in the fall of 1907, Richard Strauss - both "friend and rival" and self-promoter without equal - had already established himself as the paragon of Germanic composers of the day.

A final somewhat off-topic comment. I thought, perhaps, that in Lebrecht's book I had found another small clue in the matter of what I've come to call "the Mahler-Ives connection" (the story, seemingly true, that Mahler had acquired a fair copy of the score to Ives's Third Symphony during his final year in New York, but didn't live long enough to perform it). Two persons who wrote reminiscences included by Lebrecht were Ossip Gabrilowitsch (a well-known pianist of the time), and his wife, Clara Clemens (daughter of Mark Twain and a concertizing singer). Twain was a close friend of Ives's father-in-law, Reverend Joseph Twichell, who married not only Charles and Harmony Twichell Ives but also Ossip and Clara Clemens Gabrilowitsch. But it seems that a possible Mahler-Ives connection by way of Gabrilowitsch and Clemens is pretty much a dead-end: Harmony, despite being president of the Mark Twain Society, didn't think highly of Clara Clemens. And Ives thought so little of Gabrilowitsch that it doesn't even bear mentioning in the context of Lebrecht's book.

If you are one who thinks of Mahler in terms of his being autocratic and domineering, too tough on his musicians, and someone who was "a curiosity in his time," not to mention harboring thoughts of his being less than a first-rate composer, best that you stay away from this book; too many people who knew him felt differently, as Lebrecht's anthology makes clear. For everyone else, I consider Lebrecht's book a "must read."

Isn't it amazing what money continues to do to some people and more so, to business? This excellent historical and recent account of how classical music has wound up monetarily suffocating itself is the best read that I've encountered. I could never figure out, until I read this book, why some popular artists' CDs would still be $16 EIGHT YEARS after their release. That's because the CD label still hasn't recovered from paying that artist's ridiculous fee and consequently, redirects the recording industry's funds away from our country's orchestras and lesser known talent. One can see today what turmoil this has caused classical music and its starving artists. Read this book, for if you love classical music, it can be a guide to help people better manage classical music towards a more fiscally sound future and most important of all, stop the greed.

If you've watched the two-decade evolution in pop music industry exposé books-going from general veiled accusations and using pseudonyms, to the hard- hitting journalistic romps that are being written today, naming names, dates, companies, and places-then you'll appreciate the HIT MEN of the classical world, Norman Lebrecht's WHO KILLED CLASSICAL MUSIC, which, while it may not name vulnerable artist names in all the damning anecdotal situations in which Lebrecht places them, does explore the life and business of classical music in an alert, candid, and yet affectionate way, naming companies, managers, artists, salaries, and even top-echelon concert fees. Readers who may follow classical record-business entrepreneurship will be glad to find that the great independent- label success stories of our era, such as Naxos and Hyperion, are very much a part of Lebrecht's consciousness and research. There are no clear-cut classes of heroes and villains here, just a general sense of regret and fatigue about the current state of business in the classical world. Ron Simpson, School of Music, Brigham Young University. Author of MASTERING THE MUSIC BUSINESS

This book takes a unique look at the classical music world of today. Norman Lebrecht has combined historical evidence as well as researched evidence to declare the truth about the condition of classical music today. It is, as a modern historical account, quite stunning. And for one overly romantic about classical music today, this book dispels much of that kind of though. You learn about Pavarotti's greed, the sexualization of female stars, and down-right dirty underhanded agents. It's a must-read for all classical music lovers.

For a reference book it is disappointing that this book sets forth so much misinformation and so many inaccurate facts. Although the work does not pretend to be neutral, the extent of the author's prejudices is disturbing. He has a nasty word for almost everyone reviewed, in the manner of a supercilious school-master. The entry for Schenker gives the wrong first name and completely misconstrues the nature of his work. The entry on Sessions is patently hostile, and characterizes the Second Sympony as 12-tone, which it is not. The book as a whole, entertaining as it may be, is woefully untrustworthy.

Okay. I should qualify that. This book is not intended to cover popular music. Not even jazz. We are only talking about "art" or "serious" music here. And then only some of that. But since you are here, you probably know that already. ...

Mr. Lebrecht is a fairly opinionated Englishman. If you agree with him, fine. If you don't, tough. (Example, from the entry on Australasia: "A late developer in musical terms, the antipodes contributed sopranos - ... - and little else". Ouch! Mr. Lebrecht doesn't care much for electronic/computer music. Ouch again.)

I guess I am lucky in that I agree with many Mr. Lebrecht's opinions - most of the time. So I actually find the "Companion" a handy reference to some of my favourite music. I haven't found a similar book that covers as much as what this one does. And I often appreciate the critical viewpoints.

Negative points:
The "Companion" tries to cover a lot. This means that every heading provides only a limited amount of information. Yet most topics packs a punch. Other books cover fewer topics, but more information per topic.
At the same time the "Companion" does not cover everything. I found that many obscure artists (including composers) are missing from the book.
And there is little overall historical analysis of the entire period. The book is presented in the dictionary style - which is what I wanted. Yet it is still nice to browse through. Entries are cross-referenced, as one would expect.

After 429 pages, the appendix has a historical timeline covering world events, the arts, and music. I would have liked a visual diagram of how, say, American composers relate to each other. There are 13 photos, and a handful of line drawings.

For other periods of classical music, you'll need the Oxford Dictionary of Music edited by Michael Kennedy. If you are interested in jazz (as well), look elsewhere. I recommend The New Grove's Dictionary of Jazz edited by Barry Kernfeld. As for the "Companion", get the second edition. It covers the whole of the last century.

Lebrecht has mean-spirited and catty things to say about a number of wonderful composers (Frank Martin, Roger Sessions, and others), and you wonder how much he actually knows about their work. Worse, as the reviewer below noted, he's also sometimes inaccurate. To give one example: Lebrecht dismisses Paul Dukas' opera "Ariane et Barbe-bleue" by saying "it took Bartok to bring the gory uxoricide to life." Unfortunately, neither in Dukas' opera nor in Bartok's, masterpieces both, does uxoricide take place. On the other hand, despite having a number of grievances with this work, I find myself referring (or deferring) to it just about every day to look up obscure facts about ill-appreciated modern composers, and my copy is heavily stained and in tatters from overuse. At the end of the day the man knows a helluva lot about modern music, but perhaps not as much as he would like us to believe.

Lebrecht is a journalist, and it shows. This is a gossipy, irreverent and sensationalistic tour through the lives of virtually all of the great Maestros of the 20th Century, seeking to debunk the "cult of the conductor" along the way. This it does quite effectively. Its style is breezy and engaging, not scholarly. It is entertaining and fun to read. Great vacation reading. But there is no depth to it. One theme is that most of these conductors were/are greedy, power-hungry egomaniacs. Hardly a revelation. It doesn't offer much psychological insight into the conductors considered. The most serious and important part of the book comes at the end, with an expose of the huge fees and cushy lives that the top conductors enjoy these days, particularly compared to the lives of their predecessors and the musicians they now conduct. Lebrecht makes a powerful case that things at the top are out of hand. His own indignation at this state of affairs comes across very clearly, and it is infectious. Conductors, he persuasively argues, have become part of the problem rather than the solution to the current malaise in classical music. Everyone who loves classical music should read this chapter. It makes the whole thing worthwhile. The rest is merely entertaining.

For anyone seriously involved in the classical music arts world,
there is very little in this 'tell-all' attempt that will provide new information. In addition, the writing style jumps around in such a manner that the reader is often confused as to the subject matter at hand.

A great gossip book for conductors, Lebrecht book explores the fame of conductors and whether they really deserved it or not.

It has numerous anecdotes on several conductors, though it sometimes skims over a conductor. For example, in the chapter discussing Great Conductorial Dictators (a list which comprised of Toscanini, Furtwangler, Szell, and Reiner), it covered in detail the lives of Toscanini and Furtwangler, but had a short paragraph on Szell and Reiner, though all four were listed in the chapter for discussion.

The book moves quickly and efficiently, never staying on a topic, really, longer then it really needs to, though it may ramble a while on a particular conductor (devoting, for example, an entire chapter bashing on Karajan). He accuses many and congratulates few, but Lebrecht offers his opinion convincingly.

It's an interesting read and many will be surprised to read about their favorite conductor.

Imagine sitting down for a lengthy chat with a person who has researched his material extensively and has organized it such that he can present a detailed analysis, answering all of your questions before you ask them. Sounds appealing, right? Now add another variable to the conversation: the person takes a superior tone, puts a negative spin on almost every aspect of the story, and frequently inserts titillating but irrelevant details. On balance, would you put up with the narrator's tone and bias in order to obtain the information he offers? If your answer is yes and you are even remotely interested in opera read this book; if no, think twice.

The good parts first: No one can honestly question Mr. Lebrecht's scholarship. Apparently, his extensive sleuthing met with numerous obstacles, from uncooperative government officials to a woman who had burnt material left in her safekeeping because she did not realize its importance. Nor can one fault his organization. Although he sometimes moves ahead of himself to conclude a particular section, he always brings the reader back to the timeline of the story. Few, if any opera fans will complain that their favorite performer is not included; from Abbado to Zeffirelli, they are all there, as a quick look at the index confirms.

However, the performers are really the walk-ons in this book. The starring roles are taken by the management -- the bureaucractic officials (operatic and governmental), the artistic directors, choreographers, chorus masters, union leaders, board members -- for the focus is not so much on what happens on stage as how it gets there in the first place.

Lebrecht is most objective when he is writing the social and governmental history that parallels ROH history, e.g., his two and ½ page description of the social revolution of the early sixties, (pp. 213-215) is succinct and right on the mark. He then seques neatly into the opera house with: "The trick to any revolution is to stay in touch with public sentiment without succumbing to demotic pressure. The worst mistake is turn one's back on the tide - which is what Covent Garden proceeded to do." Unfortunately, that reasoned tone is not the prevalent one in the book.

Most often, Lebrecht's tone is unremittingly haughty and sarcastic. Not only is this off-putting, it adds nothing to his credibility, particularly in those instances in which he insists upon revealing personal details that have no bearing on an individual's professional performance. Mr. Lebrecht central argument is strong on its own without adding details about who slept with whom and where. A little more "don't ask, don't tell" would have helped immeasurably.

To be fair, even when he is being sarcastic, he can turn an effective phrase: "Callas, torn between heart and art, was drifting in the slipstream of her shipowner lover, Onassis." Problem is, too much cleverness can be grating on the ear, putting an obstacle between the reader and Lebrecht's excellent research. On balance, Lebrecht appears to represent that brand of opera-lover who cannot resist snippy-snide remarks; one wonders if he visits the opera house hoping to enjoy the performance or ready to pounce on the slightest misstep.

Occasionally, Lebrecht contradicts himself. A small example: on page 134, after a few disparaging remarks about performances of "The Bohemian Girl", he notes that it "vanished once again into a mist." Well, not quite. On page 158 it emerges from the mist in an anecdote about Maria Callas and Joan Sutherland. Nor did it vanish after page 158. As most of Dame Joan's fans know, she recorded an aria from that opera, "I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls" and sang it in recital throughout her career.

According to the jacket notes, Lebrecht has a live call-in radio show. Undoubtedly he has sharpened his wit and tongue in response to the opera cognoscenti, some of whom can be wickedly biting when offering their opinions. Had he tempered his well-developed wit just a little more, I would have given his book top marks on research, organization, and interest. The lower mark reflects Lebrecht tone which, for me, was an obstacle to complete enjoyment of this book.