Interview with Jakub Hrůša

It has been one of the most exciting recent appointments in the international music business: in September 2025, Jakub Hrůša will become the new music director of the Royal Opera House Covent Garden in London (succeeding Antonio Pappano, who will then have occupied the position for 23 years). This choice is also exciting – and a little surprising – because Hrůša, who was born in Brno in the Czech Republic in 1981, is primarily at home in the symphonic repertoire, and has rarely conducted opera to date. He has made a name for himself first and foremost as chief conductor of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra, whose international reputation he has advanced decisively. He has been in Upper Franconia since 2016; the proverbial chemistry was evidently so good that his contract was extended at an early stage until 2026. Perhaps also because the conductor’s Czech roots fit in well with the history of the orchestra, which was founded in 1946 by members of the German Philharmonic Orchestra of Prague and other musicians who were displaced from their native Bohemia by the war. In the 2023/24 season, Hrůša is coming to the Elbphilharmonie no fewer than three times with his Bambergers - as well as once with the Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia (which, incidentally, Antonio Pappano also conducted for nearly 20 years).

You and the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra seem to be a really good fit. Why do things work so well between you?

I’ve never had to ask myself that question, we just get on. And I really enjoy that, it’s much better than having to ask why something isn’t working.

Is it a musical understanding? Or do you get on well on a human level?

Both! There was common ground right from the start, we never had to find each other. And we also met at a good time. I have the feeling that I was able to mature in the best sense with this orchestra. And the orchestra in turn appreciates what I try out with it and the impetus I give. I think we are also somehow very close culturally, perhaps also because of the orchestra’s special history.

You are the first Czech chief conductor of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra, which has a German-Bohemian past. Does this shared cultural background mean something to you, or doesn’t it really play a role?

It plays a role in the profile and marketing, but it is a completely natural role, and not an artificial one. However, it doesn’t play any part in our day-to-day work, because we deal with music and not with history. But of course, the musical world is also about drawing attention to yourself and selling yourself. I won’t comment on whether that’s negative or positive. And in this sense, our shared past helps us to present ourselves with an interesting story. People talk about the Bohemian sound, for example. We all feel that we have it and appreciate it. But nobody in the orchestra knows exactly what it is. It’s not easy to put into words, but the musical ear immediately recognises that the Bamberg Symphony has a specific sound. I don’t want to talk about it explicitly, though.

I hope you will forgive me if I ask what constitutes this specific sound?

I don’t think you should imagine a particular sound, but simply listen carefully to the orchestra. However, if you ask me what makes the orchestra special, it’s a lack of ego, mutual friendship, modesty and respect for the music in all its facets. Combined with the quality of the best musicians you can imagine. The Bamberg Symphony’s specific sound, I would say, a bit more pronounced in the strings. The wind section sounds very similar to what we are used to in Germany or the German-speaking countries, while the colour of the strings is a little denser, more intense. Some also speak of a dark sound, although this is only a metaphor, because there is no dark or light in music. For me, however, the great homogeneity of the ensemble playing is also important: here in Bamberg, the human and the professional exist harmoniously side by side. It is, so to speak, an enlargement of chamber music. And you can only make chamber music if you have a close connection with one other.

On the one hand, we often talk about the specific sound of an orchestra, but on the other, every era is supposed to sound stylistically »authentic« nowadays with Mozart sounding different from Bruckner for example.

Of course, the sound of an orchestra also depends on the repertoire it’s playing. It is said, for example, that the Bambergers sound particularly »Bohemian« when we play Schubert, Bruckner or Mahler. That’s partly because, as a Czech, I somehow unconsciously carry this tradition within me and exude it. And the orchestra gratefully picks up on this impulse. However, I have to say quite clearly that I don’t consciously set myself this goal when conducting. I work intensively with the score of the piece in question: that’s my starting point and my goal as well, to translate the score with all its complexity into music as best I can.

You are often described as a perfectionist. Is that true?

Unfortunately, it is. Being a perfectionist means that you can never be satisfied, because there is no such thing as true perfection. But I have learnt to live with this limitation and still enjoy the musical result: to accept that an »imperfect« concert can still be valuable.

The members of your orchestra say that you work intensively on small details in rehearsals, but still allow the music to unfold spontaneously in concert. Is that the case?

For me, that’s the only way to make music. The rehearsal is there to get your bearings, try things out and analyse what you could improve. But if this analysis is too evident in the concert, it can paralyse the orchestra’s playing and thus the audience as well. Rehearsals are not intended for the audience at all, even if they are often open to the public nowadays. This takes a bit of the joy out of the concert. Of course it’s good to be informed, that’s why we’re having this conversation. But sometimes it’s better not to know too much, to just open up and enjoy - without knowledge, but with feeling. If there is still some mystery left, it sometimes enhances the beauty of the concert experience.

In general, what role does your Czech heritage play for you as a conductor?

I am proud that I am part of this tradition, but I am just as proud that I have not only been able to build my success on this tradition, but that I have gone through, let’s say, a wider gate. Rafael Kubelík comes to mind, to mention a great name from the past: his recordings of Czech works are outstanding, but he was also at home in the Central European repertoire. There is an origin where we are at home, but then life takes us away to other places. Nevertheless, this gravitas that we identify with remains. And for me, that is the Czech Republic from the outset, even if I sometimes fight against it to avoid being pigeonholed. That’s not pleasant for anyone.

Where do you feel less at home?

One example would be Jean Sibelius, whose music I like very much, but which I wouldn’t say is a focal point of my repertoire. The same goes for Claude Debussy, George Gershwin and Benjamin Britten. However, such statements are always a bit tricky because they can be taken to mean that I have a reserved attitude towards these composers. That’s not the case at all, quite the opposite. If I conduct Debussy, Britten or Sibelius once in a while, I probably enjoy it even more than someone who does it more regularly than I do. But of course I’m a bit more at home with Smetana or Janáček.

Let’s take a look at the programmes you will be conducting in Hamburg. Dance plays a prominent role in several concerts, for example in Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony, which Richard Wagner once described as the »apotheosis of dance«, and which you are combining with the ritual dances from Stravinsky’s »Sacre du printemps«. In another programme, Gershwin’s »Cuban Overture« meets Rachmaninov’s »Symphonic Dances«, which is also about dance and rhythm. Do you like music that has this dance-like impetus, or is that pure coincidence?

It’s no coincidence and yes, I love dance music. However, it’s not just about the dance, but also about a good dramaturgy. This can be a kind of central theme, as it is here, but a pure contrast works just as well for me: one piece is dance-like, the other more meditative. If we play all these well-known works to the audience, we should make the context interesting. Of course, this is the task of the organisers and concert-hall directors, but I am happy to take part in the process.

There is also a theme in your concert with Beethoven’s »Eroica« and Strauss’s »Heldenleben«: the heroic. What makes up a good programme for you?

Unexpected and fresh contexts are important for a programme. But the most important thing is the musical quality. I have already experienced concerts with a rather boring programme where I still had a fantastic evening because the works were so well played.