A sunny spring morning in the office of the General Music Director. On his desk: a list of performances that Sir Donald is scheduled to conduct in the coming season. Next to it: sheet music, a pencil, a rubber eraser. »Sit, sit,« says Runnicles, tidying the scores into a pile. »Let me clear some space.«

Mr Runnicles, you’ve teed up some of your favourite pieces for your last season.
The selection is my way of saying goodbye.

It kicks off with TRISTAN AND ISOLDE …
One of my top five favourites. I’ve been doing it my entire life. Graham Vick’s amazing production has just finished, which I was closely involved with. That makes it even more emotional for me to be conducting Michael Thalheimer’s version as a farewell.

Have the two of you met yet?
We have, yes, to see if the chemistry’s there. We had a really long session, and I can confidently say: I’m looking forward to us working together.

You’re going to be conducting TOSCA and THE FLYING DUTCHMAN and then the premiere of VIOLANTA and to close off the season there’s two cycles of THE RING OF THE NIBELUNG.
Mmm, and my time as General Music Director will come to an end to the sounds of TWILIGHT OF THE GODS. Pretty theatrical, eh?

But very in keeping, too. At the height of the season you take the orchestra to the Philharmonie and play Arnold Schönberg’s »Gurre-Lieder«. That’s raising eyebrows.
The »Gurre-Lieder« was Arnold Schönberg’s last major work before he came up with the twelve-tone technique. Four or five years ago we toyed with the idea of doing an acted-out version, but Covid put paid to that. I love the music, so romantic and youthful and sumptuous. Perfect for a farewell concert.

How so?
The »Gurre-Lieder« are grand is every sense of the word. A 120-piece orchestra, 11 French horns, four harps, big chorus, a whole bunch of soloists. It’s quite something to stage. The audience will be hearing our orchestra in all its glory. Every artist who appears on stage in the Philharmonie is seen in a different light and heard in a different way. I’ll tell you something: I’m constantly reminded of how proud I am of this orchestra. I know it’s not the kind of expression to use, but they really can do the business! They’re like a herd of young horses. Such power and energy. So much relish in their playing.

You’ve headed the orchestra since 2009, but you were first involved in 2007. How did that go?
I was asked to conduct Götz Friedrich’s staging of the RING. I knew I was dealing with an orchestra that knew the RING back to front. I knew a lot of my colleagues played in Bayreuth every year. What I couldn’t know was how we were talking the same language.

What happened?
At the first rehearsal I went up to the stand and got them playing a long stretch of the opera, a whole act, without me cutting in with comments like ‘pick up the tempo a bit there’ or ‘quieter’ or ‘more textured’. They didn’t know me but they were responding with great sensibility to my slightest gesture. Some of the players came up to me afterwards, beaming with pleasure and saying things like »Wow, that was so much fun« or »We really clicked!«

So that was a sign that there was huge euphoria, wasn’t it?
You’ve got it. The encounter was invigorating for all concerned, if you ask me. Something that grew in importance for me as time went by.

Fun?
Fun, joy, energy. And mutual understanding. Every orchestra kind of sets out its stall at the first rehearsal. If you really open your ears and work with what you’re hearing and they respond in kind, it creates a unique sort of energy.

You were quite young when you first picked up an orchestra’s baton.
I was fifteen. And I’d been watching my father all the years previous to that. I was a choirboy and he was a choirmaster and kapellmeister. Even at that young age I found it amazing that someone could stand in front of a group of people and create something special and homogenous from a jumble of noise. I spent a lot of time wondering what it took: authority, charisma?

Well, you seem to be doing something right. Can you give us a crash course in how to conduct an orchestra?
One of my jobs is to hold the ensemble together. The bigger the auditorium or orchestra, the more important it is to have someone up front choreographing everything. In a pit that’s as wide as the Deutsche Oper’s there’s quite a distance between the horns and the rest of the brass section. The musicians need the conductor’s hand if they’re going to be able to play together by ear. They need someone who’s keeping count alongside them and marking time. So you’re doing that with one hand, as a metronome would; you’re marking the verticals, the timeline, as it were. Everything else you do with your body and gestures and eye contact.

You’re left-handed. Have you ever wrinkled any feathers because you’re marking the beat with your left hand?
(Laughs) When I moved to Germany in 1978, my professors Robertson and Kentridge warned me: »If you go to Germany,« they said, »they’ll force you to conduct right-handed.« Never happened.

How far ahead of the music are you moving your baton?
Depends on the pace. With quick pieces you’re usually exactly on the beat. When the baton finishes its down stroke, the orchestra is kicking in. With slower stuff, you’re slower with the baton. The players are closely attuned to each other; they find the sweet spot. That’s what makes it all jell.

Right, the stage. We’re at the opera after all. Do you breathe with the orchestra or the singing?
With both. And this orchestra is so good at listening that we’re always breathing with the singers.

Your eyes are on the stage and your hands are working the pit. Where are your thoughts?
In the here and now looking full square ahead. My task is to be so well prepared and so familiar with the work that I can react to any eventuality – without thinking, otherwise I’d be knocked off kilter. Like a show jumper who knows there’s a jump coming up in ten or fifteen paces. I’ve got to have all my ducks in a row for an accelerando, where the singer’s got a tricky stretch to get through. Sounds like juggling, but it’s actually more dynamic, because I’m reacting on the hoof and continually taking decisions.

Two years later, in 2009, after that amazing RING, you were asked to assume direction of the orchestra – at a time of fierce competition and complexity. The orchestra was in a bit of a fix and the future of the house itself was wobbly. What drew you to the job?
The orchestra and the chorus. One night, after I’d made the decision, I was in the audience for a performance of RIENZI and I got a hot flush of happiness and shivers down my spine at the thought that I was going to be heading up that chorus and orchestra. My thought was: If everyone does their bit, I can really leave my mark here – musically, artistically, politically. What a privilege!

What was the biggest thing you were up against?
You can imagine the words flying between Wowereit, Barenboim and the then Undersecretary André Schmitz and others. It was like a wrestling match - but civilised, between gentlemen.

How did you settle in to your new role, swapping guest conductor for General Music Director?
Interesting question. I was plagued by self-doubt for years, worrying I might be too soft on people and should stick to my guns in rehearsals. Not sure if I should let loose in an interview when politicians were being difficult again. Thinking I should throw my weight around more and not be snowflaky in my choice of words, to make sure people watched their step…

Embarrass someone in front of the whole orchestra?
That’s precisely what I’m not like. To quote Papageno: »I’m not a fighter.« I don’t have to be a little hitler in order to be listened to and respected.

How did you shake off the self-doubt?
I stayed true to myself. And you know what? I’m proud of how people at the Deutsche Oper Berlin treat each other. Though I say so myself, that was thanks to the work of Dietmar Schwarz, Thomas Fehrle, Christoph Seuferle and me. We struck a tone that became the house tone. When artists come to us, their body language changes, because people interact with each other differently here.

How would you describe your relationship with Dietmar Schwarz, who was Artistic Director of the Deutsche Oper Berlin from 2012 to 2025?
We had huge respect for one another and we just let each other do their job. There was a big area of overlap in which we both had elbow room. We both had a sort of tacit veto on things, which was respected but not abused. It wasn’t about shouting the loudest.

In the past you’ve compared orchestras with small towns.
Orchestras are miniature collectives. Every orchestra has its upstanding citizens and also its constables on the beat, looking after law and order. Then there are rebels, people who don’t think conductors are necessary.

How does that reveal itself?
It sometimes happens in the very first rehearsal. Most musicians go with the flow, but a few drag their feet, as it were.

How do you deal with that?
A lot of them are terrific musicians who are frustrated because they think they should be playing in a better orchestra. And the other players are awkward, looking down at the floor, like: »Not this again.« I don’t shy away from discussions, because these people are sometimes crypto-leader types: if I can win them over, they bring their followers with them. But as I said, it hasn’t been like that here.

What’s your leadership approach? How do you achieve your vision?
The number one thing is to be authentic. Don’t fake anything. Authority doesn’t come from being authoritative but rather from staying calm and composed and from listening. I know what I want. The trick is to find out what the other guy needs.

Pressure is mounting on all houses. Over a given season there’s a quicker turnover of operas staged; the range of works is broadening, rehearsal time is being squeezed. What’s your take on that?
There’s always a risk of things becoming uniform, of directors focusing more on technical precision rather than on quintessence or a particular sound. On the other hand, musicians are becoming more flexible; with each new addition to the repertoire the ensemble is adding to its skill set. Take Janáček or the revivals of Zemlinsky and Korngold - or the operas of Benjamin Britten, a project close to my heart. In the space of a decade I turned our house into a Britten house. For an opera house, that’s tantamount to learning a new language.

How is Britten’s musical language different from Strauss or Wagner or Verdi?
You’re right to talk in terms of a language. At the beginning Britten is like a foreign language. The British sound is lean and transparent.

You’ve mounted many of the new works of the repertoire working alongside new directors. Who has had the biggest influence on you?
Most recently it’s been Tobias Kratzer, no question. He’s bursting with ideas and knows the music inside out and yet he’s very good at listening and responding. Graham Vick was the big formative influence on me. I admired his way of working with artists, his way of approaching them and being constructive. He always knew what he wanted and he stuck to it but had a modest way of going about it. I’ll always remember how he had the great Peter Seiffert almost eating out of his hand in the rehearsals for TRISTAN. So sad that Graham and Peter have both passed on. Still, Graham is probably relishing the fact that we’ve got an acted-out version of Britten’s WAR REQUIEM lined up in Aviel Cahn’s first season as Artistic Director. That will round off the Britten cycle, which also featured Graham’s production of DEATH IN VENICE.

At what point do you consider a directorial work a success?
From the dramaturgical viewpoint everything has already been said, and I agree with all the arguments. You know a director has done a good job if the production does well as a revived work at a later date. Some directors have everything sewn up and deliver their vision – but next time around it doesn’t take off because some of the details don’t work. Graham Vick was special here, too: All his directions relating to who a singer turns towards or addresses their words to had its own inner logic. And if something wasn’t right, he listened and adapted. If you ask me, all good directors – Kratzer, Karabulut, Hermann - have that in common.

I’d like to close with three questions, if that’s ok.
Fire away.

What gives you a feeling of pride? What have you achieved?
I’m proud of the orchestra obviously, but just as proud of my work with the chorus, with the terrific ensemble, the kapellmeister, the répétiteurs, my guest appearances in my home city of Edinburgh and at the London Proms. And last but not least proud of the unique team spirit at our opera house.

What advice would you give to your kapellmeisters?
Don’t do too much, don’t talk too much, keep gestures to a minimum, don’t get worked up. And listen. Don’t get lost in the music at the expense of seeing what the singers need. Our kapellmeister positions are much coveted by young conductors from around the world. The houses they go on to are the proof. Two examples are Nicholas Carter, soon to be General Music Director in Stuttgart, and Daniel Carter, Weimar’s next General Music Director.

Last question: Germany is the country with the most musical theatres. How is Berlin viewed around the globe?
The world, especially the US, admires Berlin as a city that views culture as a human right and promotes it, admires the fact that anyone can afford a ticket to the opera or museum or theatre and can go to a concert or musical or exhibition. Three opera houses, eight orchestras, smaller institutions and companies. That degree of diversity can’t be found anywhere else in the world.

Interview by Ralf Grauel

 

 

Colleagues on Sir Donald

»Donald Runnicles has been a musical partner for me on a periodical basis, and his input into my development as a singer has been considerable. My appearances as Isolde at the Deutsche Oper Berlin with him at the stand are among my most treasured memories and our WOMAN WITHOUT A SHADOW in San Francisco I will also never forget. When Donald Runnicles was conducting, I always felt buoyed and safe; he was the solid base from which I felt I could really push myself to my limits. But more than that, Donald Runnicles stood by me when I was taking arguably the hardest decision in the career of a singer: he not only encouraged me to take the Brünnhilde plunge but also worked on the role with me and rehearsed it with me. So when I sang my last Brünnhilde here at the Deutsche Oper Berlin under his baton I was coming full circle. Thank you, Donald, for so many fulfilling evenings!«
_{– Nina Stemme, soprano}

 

»The four productions I’ve done with Donald Runnicles at the Deutsche Oper Berlin since 2019 are up there among the most joyous experiences I’ve had working with a conductor. For Schönberg’s »Begleitungsmusik zu einer Lichtspielscene« and Zemlinsky’s DER ZWERG we incorporated, respectively, the piano part and an entire chamber orchestra into the action on stage. Once, for Richard Strauss’s INTERMEZZO, we linked up the orchestra by livestream and depicted Donald in self-ironic pose as a fictional character, and then there was the time we tried to confer a new kind of listenability on the music of WOMAN WITHOUT A SHADOW in a stage setting stripped back to its bare bones. Each time we collaborated as conductor and director, it was as peers bouncing ideas off each other, with music and scenography dovetailing in new ways. We had an open and frank way of engaging with each other that enabled us to achieve a consistency (beyond false compromises) in our joint productions and a potency in our most exhilarating moments that any director of opera is always striving for but all-too-seldom attains. Thank you for those times, my friend! What a ride we had!«
_{– Tobias Kratzer, Director and Intendant of the Staatsoper Hamburg from 2025/26}

 

»I am hugely grateful to Sir Donald Runnicles for his selfless support of me and for the lovely, harmonious times we had, starting with our work at the Deutsche Oper Berlin and extending over the years to our collaborations in Santa Fe! I have benefited enormously from his vast bank of experience in opera and symphonic music, with works by Gustav Mahler and Richard Wagner a case in point. More recently, I have come to see a new side of him as a subtle and sensitive lieder accompanist. His relaxed and open manner make for a good atmosphere, which is the basis of unconstrained music making.«
_{– Annika Schlicht, mezzosoprano}

 

»Since his time as Principal Conductor at the San Francisco Opera Sir Donald Runnicles and I have always wanted to work together, but it was two decades before we managed to get together at the Deutsche Oper Berlin during the tenure of Dietmar Schwarz. That we managed to pull off Wagner’s RING here at the height of the pandemic borders on a miracle, and it was largely thanks to the sheer belief of the General Music Director – in musical theatre as the noblest expression of an alliance between hope and love. For that I am very grateful to Donald and wish him all the very best for his next steps.«
_{– Stefan Herheim, Director and Intendant of the Theater an der Wien}

 

»It is with huge gratitude that I look back on the time I spent as kapellmeister at the Deutsche Oper Berlin under the guidance of Donald Runnicles. I learned a great deal from him where musical preparation, studying the score and stylistic approaches to a very varied repertoire are concerned. Vivid in my memory are his intuitive grasp and his experience with the music of Wagner and Strauss. He remains a role model for me in his ability to build a dramatic narrative in the course of an entire evening and still give every singer and musician the impression that they are free to express themselves. I will always appreciate the warmth and generosity of spirit that he showed me. It was from him that I learned how a quiet authority can be powerful and effective, and the value of being fully committed and bringing people together in the interest of achieving a common objective.«
_{– Nicholas Carter, designated GMD at the Staatsoper Stuttgart}