The heated arguments over John Eliot Gardiner’s departure from the Monteverdi Choir and Orchestra (MCO) show no sign of simmering down. Last year, the octogenarian conductor, who performed at King Charles III’s coronation , punched a singer in an altercation following a concert in southern France. He apologised, recused himself from performances, and sought therapy .
Now, a year on, he and the organisation – which he founded – have definitively parted company. Some of his musicians, however, are distraught and are arguing passionately for his return. In this summer of violence and thuggery, it’s discombobulating to see some fine, intelligent artists appear to insist that a punch is somehow forgivable if the perpetrator is a genius.
Classical music is unusually prone to a “great man syndrome” that excuses almost any interpersonal transgression for the sake of maintaining world-class work. Any artistic endeavour, indeed any profession that depends on a seemingly mystical level of understanding, could go the same way (Caravaggio, anyone?). But in the classical music world, the issue has rarely disappeared – from the days when Lully, Louis XIV’s favourite musician, led his ensemble with such intensity that he accidentally stabbed his own foot, to more recent times when a conductor – Gardiner again, about 10 years ago – could allegedly lash out physically at an orchestral brass player and still be rebooked (an allegation that was made in Private Eye and repor.