Music: Best Since Beecham?

Colin Davis learned his trade by retiring to his London flat, beating out rhythms to phonograph records, and casting furtive glances at his image reflected in a picture on the wall. He had only one professional conducting lesson, learned the conductor’s motions by scanning instruction books.

But last fortnight Colin Davis, 32, was named principal conductor of the Sadler’s Wells Opera and invited by the ailing Sir Thomas Beecham, 81, to assist him at the Glyndebourne Festival. Said Beecham, majestically speaking of himself in the third person: “Sir Thomas hopes that un der these conditions nothing untoward will happen, and it gives him great pleasure to initiate a collaboration which, he trusts, will continue for many years.” The appointment confirmed what Eng lish critics have been saying for more than a year: Davis is the most promising con ducting talent to appear in England since Sir Thomas himself rose to fame. He is not a spectator’s conductor. A solidly built, shock-haired man with a Mozartean profile, he conducts spiritedly but has none of the balletic exuberance of Bernstein or the smooth elegance of Sir Adrian Boult or the icily imperious quality of Reiner. Nor are his performances flamboyantly colored: where Beecham’s Mozart tends to be effusively loving, Davis’ is simple end unaffected. He combines grace with precision, gravity with rhythmic bite.

His performances of even so familiar a score as Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik often have the effect of surprise—not because of any personal eccentricities, but because Davis has the gift of illuminating faded colors and of silhouetting the thrust of familiar line and phrase.

Davis started his musical career playing clarinet in the school band near home in Weybridge, Surrey. Later he played in the band of the Household Cavalry, soon knew he wanted to be a conductor: “I suppose you can only compare it with a religious conversion. Suddenly the spirit reveals itself to you; suddenly you understand what music is all about.” The “nearest thing to professional training” that Clarinetist Davis got was the opportunity to play under, and observe, Conductor Fritz Busch as a member of the Glyndebourne Orchestra. Davis then led a number of small instrumental and singing groups, was eventually hired as assistant conductor by both Sadler’s Wells and the BBC’s Scottish Orchestra. Last fall he took over on 24 hours’ notice for the ailing Otto Klemperer, conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra in a wildly acclaimed concert performance of Don Giovanni.

Conductor Davis, who will make his first appearance in the U.S. next December with the Minneapolis Symphony, seems to lack only one major podium qualification: a king-sized ego. Not long ago, at the completion of a concert in London’s Royal Festival Hall, Davis won an ovation from the audience. He looked at his orchestra, flabbergasted. “This is ridiculous!” said he, and left the stage.