“You Have to Take the Audience With You”: Joshua Weilerstein on Communion in Performance

Joshua Weilerstein speaks about inspiration, integrity, and why taking audiences seriously—especially younger ones—is essential to keeping classical music alive and meaningful today.

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By Editorial Team

Reading time estimated : 5 min

What drew you to Lille, both musically and personally?

My first experience with the orchestra was in 2022. We performed Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony and the Schnittke Viola Concerto with Antoine Tamestit. I was blown away from the very first rehearsal by the orchestra’s engagement, energy, and commitment. I remember calling my wife during the rehearsal break to tell her it was going to be a fantastic week—and I don’t do that very often! I felt an immediate connection with the orchestra, so when they offered me the position of Music Director, it was an easy decision.

Watch Joshua Weilerstein conduct the Orchestre National de Lille in a dazzling program entitled “Between Three Worlds,” featuring music by Dutilleux, Franck, and contemporary composer Camille Pépin.

Do you still practise your instrument, and what impact does that have on your conducting?

I practise less now because I have a two-year-old daughter, so much of my time is devoted to her. But yes, staying connected to a real instrument is incredibly important to me—to feel the contact, to produce the sound myself. It informs everything I do in rehearsal and even the way I move physically.

Which conductors inspired you growing up, and which ones do you still admire today?

Growing up, Leonard Bernstein was central for me—as he was for so many American musicians, and of course for musicians around the world. His conducting, his compositions, his piano playing, and his extraordinary ability to communicate made him one of the greatest musical evangelists who ever lived.

In college, I discovered Carlos Kleiber, and I’ve never stopped being amazed by his ability to create line and direction, and by the freedom he gave musicians while still shaping every note. That is an extraordinary skill—one he possessed more than any other conductor.

As for today’s conductors, I always hesitate to answer because I don’t want to leave anyone out. But two whom I find especially inspiring are Iván Fischer and Kirill Petrenko. Fischer’s creativity and his way of thinking about music are as fascinating to listen to as his performances. Some of his concerts with the Budapest Festival Orchestra are among the most unforgettable experiences of my life. And Kirill Petrenko—both in Berlin and earlier in Munich—has an extraordinary ability to penetrate the real depth of a score and bring that out of an orchestra. He makes you hear music in a completely different way. I find them both remarkable.

What is something classical music can learn from younger audiences, and do you try to apply that yourself?

Yes, absolutely. One thing I’ve learned from speaking with younger audiences is that they want to be taken seriously and made to feel that they truly belong in the concert hall. In the past, outreach often involved talking down to them—offering short versions of pieces or telling them they could use their phones. Many young people feel condescended to by that.

They want the full experience. That doesn’t mean we simply play and expect total silence—you can break the fourth wall, introduce the music, and create a bridge. But you have to present the music with love, passion, and seriousness. Programming also matters: I wouldn’t necessarily play a Mahler symphony for someone’s first concert—an hour and ten minutes can be a lot. But if you choose repertoire that will resonate immediately and create an opening for them, you can help turn them into lifelong listeners.

What I’ve really come to understand is that audiences know when they’re being talked down to—and that is a huge turn-off. Treating the music with the seriousness it deserves is actually a very effective approach.

How do you personally define a successful performance?

For me, it’s when the orchestra, the audience, and myself are in a kind of communion—when, for a moment, we’re all transported somewhere else, into the world of the composer whose music we’re performing. It’s important that the performer doesn’t go there alone; you have to take the audience with you. That’s what creates something truly special. And you can feel it in the room when it happens.

Written by Editorial Team

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