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You ready?

No, just... Yeah, just-just
ignore the microphone.

Yeah, just-just act as if it's not there.

Sing as if it's not there.

Yeah, uh...

Okay?

- Ready for them?
- Yes.

Let's go.

If you're here, then you already know

who she is, and that is one
of the most important

musical figures of our time.

Lydia Tár is many things:

a piano performance graduate
at the Curtis Institute,

Phi Beta Kappa from Harvard.

She got her PhD in Musicology
from the University of Vienna,

specializing in the indigenous music

of the Ucayali Valley in Eastern Peru,

where she spent five years

among the Shipibo-Konibo people.

As a conductor, Tár began her career

with the Cleveland Orchestra,

one of the so-called "Big Five."

A string of important posts followed,

including the Philadelphia Orchestra,

the Chicago Symphony Orchestra,

the Boston Symphony Orchestra,

until she at last arrived here

at our own New York Philharmonic.

With the latter, she organized

the Highway 10 refugee concerts in Zaatari,

which were attended by over 75,000 people.

She's become particularly well-known

for commissioning contemporary work

from, among others,
Jennifer Higdon, Caroline Shaw,

Julia Wolfe and Hildur Gudnadóttir.

And she's made a point
of programming their works

alongside composers of the canon.

She's been quoted as saying,

"These composers are having a conversation

and it may not always be so polite."

Lydia Tár has also written
music for the stage and screen.

She is in fact one of only 15
so-called EGOTs, meaning those

who have won all four
major entertainment awards:

an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar and a Tony.

It is, as you can imagine,

an extremely short and shimmering list

that includes Richard Rodgers,
Audrey Hepburn,

Andrew Lloyd Webber
and, of course, Mel Brooks.

In 2010, with the support of Eliot Kaplan,

she founded the Accordion
Conducting Fellowship,

which fosters entrepreneurship
and performance opportunities

for female conductors,
allowing them residencies

with major orchestras around the world.

In 2013, Berlin elected Tár
as its principal conductor,

in succession to Andris Davis,

and she's remained there ever since.

Like her mentor, Leonard Bernstein,

Tár has a particular affinity for Mahler,

whose nine symphonies she recorded

during her Big Five stints.

However, she never managed to complete

the so-called "cycle" with
a single orchestra until now.

Under her direction,

Berlin has recorded eight
of the Mahler symphonies,

saving the big one,
Symphony No. 5, for last.

Due to the pandemic, that performance,

which was scheduled for
last year, had to be canceled.

But I'm told that next month,

she'll make a live recording
of Mahler's Fifth,

which will complete the cycle

and will be issued in a box set
by Deutsche Grammophon

just in time for Mahler's birthday.

As if that's not enough,
her new book, Tár on Tár,

will be published by Nan
Talese's imprint at Doubleday,

just in time for Christmas,
a perfect stocking stuffer,

especially if you have
a very large stocking.

All of us at The New Yorker welcome you.

Thank you for joining us, Maestro, today.

Thank you, Adam. Thank you.

Thank you.

Lydia, I couldn't...

I couldn't help but see you
flinch just a little bit

as I was reading your bio.

Was it because I forgot
some other amazing achievement?

Or do you have a slight self-consciousness

about the incredibly varied things

that you've accomplished?

Well, in today's world,
"varied," it-it's a dirty word.

I mean, our era is one of specialists,

and if you're trying to do
more than one thing,

it's, you know, it's often frowned upon.

Every artist gets typecast.

Oh, yes. Aggressively so.

Well, do you think there'll be
a moment, though,

when the classical music community,

uh, decides not to use sexual distinctions

to differentiate artists?

I'm probably the wrong person to ask

since I don't, uh, read reviews.

- Never, really?
- No.

But it is odd, I-I think,
that anyone ever felt compelled

to substitute
"maestro" with "maestra."

I mean, we don't call women
astronauts "astronettes."

Mm-hmm. Right.

But as to the question
of, uh, gender bias,

I really have nothing
to complain about.

Nor, for that matter, should
Marin Alsop, JoAnn Falletta,

uh, Laurence Equilbey
and Nathalie Stutzmann.

I mean, there's so many
incredible women

who came before us.

You know, women who did
the-the real lifting.

That-that's fascinating.

Can you... Who, for instance?

Uh, okay, sure.

Uh, first and foremost,
Nadia Boulanger.

I mean, that would be
the, uh, happy example.

Uh, the sad one would be
Antonia Brico,

who by all accounts
was an incredible conductor

but was ghettoized
into the nonglamorous status

of a "guest conductor"

and essentially
treated as a dog act.

A dog...
Uh, she never got the chance

to lead a major orchestra?

Well, yes.
Yes, she did, uh, conduct

the, uh, Berlin Philharmonic,
as well as the Met,

but, again,
only as a guest conductor.

You know, at, I mean,
at that time it was...

it was all gender spectacle.

But fortunately, times change,

and-and the Pauline
conversion is...

- "Pauline..."
- if not complete,

then it's-it's evolving nicely.

N-No less, um,
having fallen off its horse.

Um, Lydia, could we talk
a little bit

- about, uh, translation?
- Mm-hmm.

'Cause I think
there's still people

who think of the conductor
as a kind of human metronome.

Well, yeah,
that's-that's partly true.

- Yeah, but it's...
- But keeping time,

it's-it's no small thing.

But I suspect there's
a lot more to it than that.

Yeah, well,
I-I would hope so, yes.

- But time is the thing.
- Uh-huh.

Time is-is the essential piece
of, uh, interpretation.

You cannot start without me.

See, I start the clock.

Now, my left hand shapes,
but my right hand,

the second hand, marks time
and moves it forward.

However, unlike a clock,
sometimes my second hand stops,

which means that time stops.

Now, the illusion is that,
like you,

I'm responding to
the orchestra in real time...

Right, right. -... making the
decision about the right moment

to restart the thing,
or reset it,

or throw time out
the window altogether.

The reality is that right
from the very beginning,

I know precisely
what time it is...

- Really? That's...
- and the exact moment

that you and I will arrive
at our destination together.

You know, the only real,
uh, discovery for me

is in rehearsal.

It's never,
never in performance.

Hard question, I know, but
if you could define one thing

that Bernstein gave you,
what would it be?

Kavvanah.

Yeah, it's-it's the Hebrew word

for attention to meaning
or-or intent.

You know, what are
the composer's priorities,

and what are yours, and how do
they complement one another?

Right, kavvanah. I think
that's a word that will have

a slightly different meaning
for many in our audience.

Well, yes, yes, I imagine so.

Am I right in thinking
that a conductor

was not always, uh,
an onstage presence

- in classical music?
- No, that's right.

I-I think I read someplace
that it actually was

the first violin, for a long
time, who was responsible.

Yes, the first violinist,
whether they had any interest

or-or skill in it or not.

Wh-When did that change,
and-and who changed it?

With the French composer,
Jean-Baptiste Lully,

who reportedly, uh,
used a, uh, rather enormous,

rather pointy staff to pound
the tempi into the floor.

It's not something I imagine

the players particularly,
uh, appreciated.

Uh, anyway, uh, that technique
ended during a performance

when Lully accidentally

stabbed himself in the foot
with the thing and died.

Yeah, of-of-of gangrene.

But anyway...

Yeah.

Anyway, but the conductor

really becomes essential
as the ensembles get bigger.

And once again,
we go back to Beethoven.

♪ Buh, buh, buh, bum,
buh, buh, buh, bum. ♪

Now, that doesn't start
with the eighth note.

The downbeat...
♪ Buh, buh, buh ♪...

It's silent, right?

So someone had to start
that clock.

Someone had to, uh,
plant their flag in the sand

and say, "Follow me," you know?

And when that someone was
Lenny, the orchestra was led

on the most extraordinary
tour of pleasures.

'Cause he knew the music,
Mahler especially,

as well or better than anyone.

And he would often play
with the form.

'Cause he wanted an orchestra
to feel

that they had never seen,
let alone heard

or-or performed
any of that music.

So he-he would do
radical things,

like, uh, disregarding
the tempo primo

or-or ending this phrase
molto ritardando,

even though
it had no such marking.

Was he over-egging it?

Oh, no, no, no. Not at all.

He, he, he celebrated the joy
of his discovery.

You just told us a moment ago

that your discovery
takes place in rehearsal.

When will that process
begin again for you?

We start on Monday.

- Immediately?
- Mm.

With this one,
it really is about

trying to read the tea leaves
of-of Mahler's intention.

I mean, we know a great deal
about this

with his other symphonies.

You know, he was so inspired
by the poetry of Rückert

that for years he didn't set
another author to music.

But all of this changes
with the Five.

The Five is a mystery.

And the only clue he leaves us

is on the cover
of the manuscript itself.

Yes, the-the dedication
to his new wife, Alma.

So if you're gonna partner
with Mahler

on his, uh, fifth symphony,

the first thing you must do

is try to understand
that very complex marriage.

And would you say that you have
a different interpretation

of that marriage
than Bernstein did?

You mentioned my ethnographic
fieldwork in the Amazon.

Well, Adam, the Shipibo-Konibo

only receive an icaro, or song,

if the singer is there, right?

On the same side of the-the
spirit that-that created it.

And in that way, the past
and the present converge.

It's the flip sides
of the same cosmic coin.

That definition of fidelity
makes sense to me.

But Lenny,
he believed in teshuvah.

The Talmudic power
to reach back into time

and-and transform
the, uh, significance

of one's past deeds.

So when he played the Adagietto
at Robert Kennedy's funeral,

it ran for 12 minutes.

He treated it as a mass.

And, you know, if you listen
to a recording of it,

you will no doubt feel
the tragedy and-and the pathos.

And of course
that, uh, interpretation

was very true for Mahler
later in life,

after the professional bottom
dropped out

and Alma had left him
for Gropius.

But, as I said before,
we are dealing with time.

And this piece was not born
into aching tragedy.

It was born into young love.

And so you chose...

Love.

Right, but precisely how long?

Well...

seven minutes.

I was so taken
by what you said to Adam

about, um, interpretation

and specifically about feelings,

and that you chose love.

And I know it's said
that you should leave the tears

for the audience, but...

do you ever find yourself
overwhelmed by emotion

when you're up there
at the podium?

Yes.

Yes, that does happen.

There's an...
an expectation-reward cycle

with some works
and the spots in them

that I find so incredible,
that when I'm conducting,

it's not that
I'm rushing exactly,

but, oh, I just can't wait
to get to that spot,

and, yeah, it does it.
It does it every time.

So it's physical
as well as emotional.

- Hmm. Hmm.
- God, it must take hours

to come back down to earth.

You say things after others
remember, but you won't.

And sleep, it's impossible.

It's like my freshman year
at Smith.

Which piece does that to you?

Oh, I saw you.

I saw you conduct, uh,
The Rite of Spring

at the Met last year.

It was so powerful.

Thank you. Thank you.

It's...
It's the 11 pistol shots...

It's a prime number...

That strike you as both victim
and perpetrator.

You know, it's not until
I conducted it

that I became convinced
we're all capable of murder.

That is a fantastic handbag,
by the way.

Thank you.
I'm glad you like it.

Oh, I do. I do.

Sorry.
Your lunch with Mr. Kaplan.

His driver is waiting.

All right.

I-I'm sorry,
I've forgotten your name.

- Whitney. Whitney Reese.
- Whitney.

Whitney, of course.

I'm, I'm so sorry,

and unfortunately
I've left things a bit late

and there's something
I can't get out of. -Oh.

I understand.

Can I text you?

It's perfect, Aldo.

Oh. I was hoping
we could celebrate.

No. So was I.

I've got a class at Juilliard.

Oh, good.

I promised Ben.

I'm sure you'll have a few
elbowing for an Accordion slot.

We should open up
the fellowship.

- What, expand our numbers?
- No, our sex.

I mean, it feels quaint
to keep things single-gender.

We've made our point.

And, honestly,
we've had no real trouble

successfully placing
any of them.

Except one.

Oh, well.

She had issues.

So I've heard.

The topic comes up
in every Citibank meeting

with her father.

I'm sorry about that.

It's fine.

It's nothing I can't handle.

So, you want to torpedo
Accordion's founding principle?

We'd likely lose donors.

Yeah, I suppose that's true.

M-Maybe it's something
we revisit

- down the line.
- Sure.

Now, Bryant Park's locked
for the 25th.

Nan asked me
to help fill the place,

so the Kaplan Fund
is gonna buy some radio

and outdoor advertising.

And claqueurs.

It's too big, Eliot.

She should have booked
the Strand.

Relax.

It'll be great.

And it almost falls
on your birthday.

I was, uh, I was sorry
you weren't able to make it

to my Mahler Three in London.

Me, too.

Uh, Petra had a school thing.

Uh, and I promised Sharon
I'd be there.

Of course.

I was just hoping
for your honest opinion.

My player rating sheets
were off the charts.

Those are confidential, Eliot.

Well, the principal oboist
is a big fan.

On the way back,

I was listening to yours
with the Israeli Phil,

and I was struck
by what you managed to pull

from the strings
in the last movement.

I mean, how did you
get them there?

Was it the hall?

Was it the players?

The players weren't
very obliging.

The principal violinist
came up to me

after the first rehearsal

- and asked if I was a Jew.
- What?

It seemed to him unusual, if
not suspicious, that a non-Jew

would be interested
in conducting Jewish music.

Felt like Max Bruch.

Well, big Jew that I am,
the Kaplan Fund has, uh,

committed a sizable
amount to them

- for a klezmer commission.
- Mm-hmm.

Uh, maybe they'll invite me
to guest conduct.

Oh, well, they'd be lucky
to have you.

Oh, please.

I know my place.

Money can't always
buy you everything.

You don't really believe that.

I'll have you know
I tried to bribe Francesca

to let me look at your notation.

She sent me packing.

Good girl.

That gentleman sitting
over there with the gnome

is urgently focused
on our table.

At first, I thought
he was looking at me,

but I think he's got
his eye on you.

Please try and ignore him.

I can excuse myself
and go wash my hands

if you'd like to be alone.

And I would never forgive you.

The last thing I need
is to be buttonholed in here

by someone exactly like me.

Uh, what time are you
leaving tomorrow?

Francesca's looking
into flights.

Well, call her off.

Leave when you like.

You don't have to do that.

My motives are not entirely
altruistic.

Just one peek. One peek
at your performing score.

Fine.

- Would 5:15 be okay?
- Sure.

Okay, I mean, I do... I have
to get turned around fast.

We're filling a vacant position.

Oh, please tell me
it's Sebastian.

Now, be fair, Eliot.

Sebastian has decent technique.

He has baton.

A month ago,
I dropped into Bunkamura

to watch the Turing machine
trot out Chopin One.

Ol' Sebastian really
is Mr. Tempo Rubato.

Robot-o is more like it.

Why do you keep him on?

Oh, he's Andris's man,
you know that.

Exactly. You inherited
that decision.

Seven years is a long time
to pretend you respect it.

They have different
labor contracts over there.

He's a... he's a strange guy.

Who? Andris?

No, Sebastian.

He has, uh, fetishes.

Fetishes? Like what?

Nostalgia for prewar Kalmus
miniature scores,

dead-stock pencils he's seen

von Karajan hold in photographs.

You know, that sort of thing.

That's just sad.

Yeah, but you're not wrong.

I am gonna have to rotate him
at some point.

For who?

What Love Teaches Me.

That string notation.

Mahler gives it to you himself.

- Come on.
- Trust me.

You do not want to go to school

on someone else's
red and blue pencil.

Least of all, mine.

Oh, but I do.

All right.
Will you quit pestering me?

Yes.

Free bowing.

It's not pretty
for an audience to look at,

but if you can manage
to keep your players

out of the weeds...

the sound's ferocious.

Oh.

There's no glory
for a robot, Eliot.

Do your own thing.

Hmm.

All right, um...

Let's... stop here.

- Thank you, Max. Very good.
- Thanks.

Um, just for my own
edification...

why did you come to Juilliard?

Uh, it's the best music
conservatory in the country?

People from Curtis, Eastman,
and others may beg to differ.

I mean,
Juilliard's a brand, right?

So, did you come to study
with a brand?

No. -No, right.
So there's a teacher

or graduate somewhere
down the line who, you know,

conjured something
in your imagination.

Someone you aspire to be yourself.
-Mm-hmm.

So, who was that?

Sarah Chang.

Hmm. So you're a violinist?

- Yeah.
- All right, okay.

Well, I can see why

you would choose to conduct
a piece like this.

Must be a familiar pleasure
in presiding over

a bed of strings that behave
as if they're tuning.

Now...

this piece is very au courant.

I mean, here,
the composer tells us

to begin with "back-and-forth
tremolo strokes"

with wire brush and slowly
sliding crotales over skin."

Sounds like René Redzepi's
recipe for reindeer.

It's exciting to play
new music, isn't it?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

Great. All right, please,
join the other fellows.

Now, I know you're all
conducting students

of, uh, Mr. Wolfe's,
but how many of you

are also studying composition?

Right, what's your name?

Olive Kerr.

All right, Olive. Uh...

What do you make of what
we've just been listening to?

It's pretty awesome.

I mean, there's incredible
atonal tension.

I agree about the tension part.

Now, you can intellectually
contemplate, or masturbate,

about the felicity
of the so-called "atonal,"

but the important question here
is: What are you conducting?

What is the effect?

What is it actually doing to me?

Good music can be
as ornate as a cathedral

or bare as a potting shed

so long as it allows you to
answer both those questions.

Max.

Come on, what do you think?

When... Anna Thorvaldsdóttir
gave her master class,

she said she was often
influenced by the form

and structure of landscapes
and nature she grew up within.

But I'm not sure
she was interested per se

in, uh, describing
those actual sounds.

Very Punkt Kontra Punkt.

Yes.

The intent of her composition
is vague, to say the least.

So, if her intent is vague,
how do you, as a conductor,

have a point of view
about anything?

Now, to be fair, I mean,

there are times when you will
simply have no choice.

And you will be made to stand
in front of an orchestra

and pretend that there are
these invisible structures.

But my prayer for you

is that you will be spared
the embarrassment

of standing on the podium
with a 4'33",

trying to sell a car
without an engine.

Because now, my friends,

now is the time to conduct music

that actually requires
something of you.

You know,
music that everybody knows

but will hear differently
when you interpret it for them.

For instance, Max,
why not a Kyrie?

You know, like, uh, something
like Bach's Mass in B minor.

I'm not really into Bach.

- You're not into Bach?
- Mm-hmm.

Oh, Max.

Have you read
the Schweitzer book?

No.

Well, you should.

It's an important text.

Now, Antonia Brico thought so.

So much so that she shipped
herself to Equatorial Africa

and canoed up the Congo River
to track Schweitzer down

and ask him to teach her
what he knew about Bach.

I mean, somewhere,
I've got a picture of her

in a, in a pith helmet.

I mean, have you...

have you ever played
or-or conducted Bach?

Honestly, as a BIPOC,
pangender person,

I would say Bach's
misogynistic life

makes it kind of impossible
for me

to take his music seriously.

Come on.

What do... what do...
what do you mean by that?

Well, didn't he sire,
like, 20 kids?

Yes, that's documented.

Along with a considerable
amount of music.

But I'm sorry,
I'm... I'm unclear

as to what his prodigious
skills in the marital bed

have to do with B minor.

Sure.

All right, whatever.
That's-that's your choice.

I mean, after all, "a soul
selects her own society."

But remember, the flip side
of that selection

closes the valves
of one's attention.

Now, of course,
siloing what is acceptable

or not acceptable
is a basic construct of many,

if not most,
symphony orchestras today,

who see it
as their imperial right

to curate for the cretins.

So, slippery as it is,

there is some merit
in examining Max's allergy.

Can classical music
written by a bunch of straight,

Austro-German, churchgoing
white guys exalt us,

individually
as-as well as collectively,

and who, may I ask,
gets to decide that?

You know, what about Beethoven?

You into him?

Because for me,
as a U-Haul lesbian,

I'm... I'm not too sure
about old Ludwig.

But then, I face him.

And I find myself nose-to-nose

with his magnitude
and inevitability.

Come on, Max. Indulge me.

Let's allow Bach a similar gaze.

Sit.

Now, this is all
filigree, right?

I mean, it could be
a first-year piano student.

♪ Or Schroeder playing
for Lucy. ♪

Or Glenn Gould, for that matter.

Now, it's not until
it changes...

when you get inside it,

that you hear what it really is.

It's a question.

And an answer.

Which begs another question.

There's a humility in Bach.

He's not pretending
he's certain about anything.

'Cause he knows
that it's always the question

that involves the listener.

It's never the answer, right?

Now, the big question
for you is:

What do you think, Max?

You play really well.

But nowadays, white, male, cis
composers, just not my thing.

Don't be so eager
to be offended.

The narcissism
of small differences

leads to the most boring
conformity.

I guess Edgard Varèse is okay.

I mean, I like "Arcana," anyway.

Oh, well, then you must be
aware that Varèse

once famously stated that jazz

was "a Negro product
exploited by the Jews."

Didn't stop Jerry Goldsmith
from ripping him off

for his
Planet of the Apes score.

It's kind of a perfect insult,
don't you think?

But you see, the problem
with enrolling yourself

as an ultrasonic epistemic
dissident

is that if Bach's talent
can be reduced to his gender,

birth country, religion,
sexuality, and so on,

then so can yours.

Now, someday, Max,
when you go out into the world

and you guest conduct
for a major or minor orchestra,

you may notice that the players
have more than light bulbs

and music on their stands.

They will also have been
handed rating sheets,

the purpose of which
is to rate you.

Now, what kind of criteria

would you hope that they would
use to do this?

Your score reading and stick
technique, or something else?

All right, everyone,
using Max's criteria,

let's consider Max's thing.

In this case,
Anna Thorvaldsdóttir.

Now, can we agree on two pieces
of observation?

One, that Anna was born
in Iceland.

And two, that she is,
in a, I don't know,

Waldorf teacher kinda way,
a superhot young woman.

Show of hands.

All right,
now let's turn our gaze

back to the piano bench up there

and see if we can square
how any of those things

possibly relate to the person
we see seated before us.

Oh, where are you going?

You're a fucking bitch.

And you are a robot.

I mean, unfortunately,
the architect of your soul

appears to be social media.

You want to dance the mask,
you must service the composer.

You gotta sublimate yourself,

your ego, and, yes,
your identity.

You must, in fact, stand
in front of the public and God

and obliterate yourself.

All right.

During the lockdown,

you did something
I thought remarkable.

You made music for free.

Anyone at all could stream
Berlin performances

without ever paying a dime.

Well, that-that was a...

it's a democratically made
decision by the players.

And though I-I wish I could
claim the idea was mine,

it really did spring from
the heart of Sharon Goodnow.

Sharon is your partner.

You have a child together,

and she's also the
concertmaster for Berlin.

- Does that ever...
- Yes, that's right.

Complicate things for you?

Your work getting into your
home or the other way ar...?

Jake said he was certain

you'd be happy with the drape
of the seat.

I will be...

if I can keep the fat off
until next month.

You never gain weight.

Your... your mother texted me.

She knows you're busy
but is hoping to drop by.

Next trip.

What are you thinking
for dinner?

Uh, no.

No, I'm-I'm gonna stay in
and put this piano to good use.

I'm suspicious of the E natural
in the cello line.

Doesn't it sound like
warmed-over Charles Ives to you?

Not-not at all.

But don't worry,
I'll call Houston.

They'll be flexible.

You must have
some New Haven friends

you want to see tonight?

No. Not really.

Should I stop by later
for notes?

No, that won't be necessary.

Okay.

Oh, I, I-I almost forgot, but...

this was left for you
at the front desk.

By who?

They didn't say.

Wh-What, no card?

No.

Okay, just, just leave it
over there.

Thanks.

Good night.

Night.

You're listening to

All Things Considered
from NPR News.

All Things Considered
is brought to you

by the Corporation
for Public Broadcasting...

Public Broadcasting.

And I Eat Ears,

feeding the discerning
listener since 2008. -2008.

- I Eat Ears,
- I Eat Ears,

- and you should, too.
- And you should, too.

And now, more from NPR.

Over the next few weeks,

we'll be hearing poems
from four finalists

for the National
Youth Poet Laureate Award.

When were you informed of this?

Just this morning.

Mr. Kaplan was very apologetic.

I was able to get us on

the 7:00 a.m. you like,
through Munich.

The connection's short,

but special services
are standing by.

Where are things with DG?

Please tell me they've finally
woken up to see the wisdom

of honest-to-God LPs
for this release?

No movement there yet.

Have you looked at the email
I drafted for you?

- Sent it last night.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, just forward me their response.
-Mm-hmm.

What's your take
on The New Yorker talk?

It went well, I thought.

Oh. You're hedging.

I was garrulous.

No.

No, not at all.
You, you were fabulous.

Francesca.

If you have any real interest
in conducting,

you need to be able
to speak your mind.

Okay. Perhaps you...

You could've made less
of the relationship with...

- Lenny?
- No.

I-I was thinking
about Mahler and Alma's.

Oh. Huh. -You implied
that she betrayed him.

I'm not, I'm not sure
I agree with that.

Oh, really?

Alma was a composer, too,

but he insisted
she stop writing music.

He said there was
only room for...

- One asshole in the house?
- One asshole in the house. Yes.

And she agreed to those rules.

No one made that decision
for her.

#RulesOfTheGame.

Okay.

How was your evening?

Yeah, was uneventful.

Are there any
of Sharon's pills left?

No, but Dr. Korovin
called these in.

Ah, thanks.

I received another weird email
from Krista.

- Mm-hmm.
- How should I reply?

Don't.

Well, this one felt
especially desperate.

Do you have some kind
of profit-sharing deal

with the utility company
that I am unaware of?

The flutter's back.

It's... It's racing.

I can't find my Metoprolol
anywhere.

Oh, fuck.

Uh, I found this
lying loose in the drawer.

Is this the right one?

Yeah.

Thank you.

Is that a new bag?

Oh, it's just a gift from Eliot.

You want it?

No.

Suits you.

Let's slow this down
to 60 beats a minute.

Actually, it's 64 beats.

Tried calling you
on your mobile last night.

Hmm.

And again at the hotel.

Must've been asleep.

You never sleep that deeply.

No, no, don't be a scold.

♪ Feelin' a feelin' ♪

♪ For somethin' there ain't
too much of... ♪

I'm worried about Petra.

She's starting to disappear
into herself.

Be specific.

She keeps coming home
with bruises on her shins.

And then when I ask her
about it, she gets quiet.

I mean, I hope
it's just playground football

and not some Biodeutsche thing.

Hmm, we talked about this.

But maybe we just need
to put more effort

into finding her a friend.

Last year was really hard

to be locked up alone
with two old ladies like us.

She's old enough to learn piano.

I'll teach her.

Yeah.

That might be good.

How's your heart?

Better now.

Knock, knock. Who's there?

Lenny?

Walter?

Oh, it's you, MTT.

Why do you insist on holding
things up like that?

Your business here is rejoicing,

not screaming
like a fucking porn star.

Michael Tilson Thomas...

Hello, Petra.

Why are you lurking? Hmm?

Tell me and I'll help.

- Sharon?
- Hmm?

Uh, I'm taking Petra to school.

Oh, okay.

- Come on.
- Tschüss.

Who'll bear the pall?

"We," said the wren,

- "both the cock and the hen."
- The hen.

"I'll..."

"We'll bear the pall."

And who'll sing a psalm?

"I," said the thrush
as she sat on a bush.

"I'll sing a song."

"Who'll toll the bell?"

"I," said the bull,

"because I can pull.

I'll toll the bell."

All the birds of the air

fell a-sighing and a-sobbing

when they heard the bell toll

for poor Cock Robin!

It's gonna be okay.

All right.
Okay, which one is she?

The red one.

- Bye.
- Go on.

Hallo, Johanna.

Hello. Hi.

They're all in the chamber hall?

Yes.

No.

Good morning.

Oh, I'm sorry, Maestro.

We weren't sure you were coming.

We were told there might be,
um, a scheduling conflict.

Would you like me
to take notes? -

No, thank you, Sebastian.

That won't be necessary.

Do we all have
our rating sheets?

- We narrowed it down to three.
- Mm-hmm.

So, unless anyone has
other business to discuss,

let's bring in number one.

Goossens stands, sounds his A.

And of course, uh, Léon
was rather famous

for his, um, rather wide
vibrato, huh? -Hmm.

Beecham looks up and says,
"Gentlemen, take your pick."

How's the writing going?

Ah, I never know how
to answer that question.

No.

Makes it sound like
a physical act.

Like, how's the shitting going?

Okay.

How's the thinking going?

Yeah, not so well.

I keep hearing something
and getting excited

only to catch myself
in pastiche.

Hmm.

Uh, it's all pastiche.

We all have the same
musical grammar.

Uh, just look at Beethoven Five.

The third movement's theme has
the same sequence of intervals

as the opening theme of the
final movement of Mozart Forty.

Mm, th-that could've been
a coincidence.

No. Not in this case.

If you examine
the sketchbooks he used,

29 bars of Mozart's
finale appear.

Copied out by Beethoven.

Oh, my God. I find that
extremely depressing.

I finished reading
your manuscript.

It's very good, Lydia.

One for the ages.

And, I dare say,
will be available

long after my book
has been forgotten.

Oh, yes, you're right.

The entire first printing
will always be available.

Too modest, as usual.

Thank you, Andris.

I'll cherish this.

You may use it.

A-a blurb for the covers.

Oh, thank you.

I'll send it to the publisher.

Hopefully, there's still time.

I'm proud to call you my pupil,

uh, even though there was really

nothing I could teach you.

Now, that's not true.

I'd never have the position
here were it not for you.

Then you'd be in London,
New York.

They're not Berlin.

Besides, I'm not sure
what Sharon would do,

were we ever to leave.

She's so close with her family.

Ah, yeah, the Goodnow sisters.

I remember the elder one
being an absolute ball-breaker

while she still held sway at DG.

Heike is a woman of many opinions.
-Oh.

And that voice.

I mean, the signal-to-noise
ratio,

it's unbearable.

I've had to bolt-hole
at my old place in town

to get any writing done.

Schopenhauer measured
a man's intelligence

against his sensitivity
to noise.

Didn't he once also throw
a woman down a flight of stairs

who later sued him?

Yes.

Although, it's unclear

this private
and personal failing

is at all relevant to his work.

You're late.

Here, give me your stick.

- Thank you.
- I've got it.

Okay. Uh...

Gut, gut.

Christian...

Okay?

Uh, but it's also...

It's like we're hearing it

from a very, very great
distance.

So it's...

Ju... Uh...

Sorry. Ist Harald da?

Harald? I was just wondering
if you might, um,

uh, quickly rig something up
for us?

Gut, gut, gut.

Harald?

Uh, we'll want the same
backstage setup

for the live recording.

One, two, one.

Okay? Looks great, but...

we need to hear it.

Okay? It's not...

Hey.

Ja?

Okay?

No.

Bah!

It's-it's much too slow.

Mm-hmm.

Okay.

Okay, tutti.

Uh...

How are things feeling up here?

Fine, yeah.

Yeah, actually great, but, uh,

it's a shame we don't record
this one direct-to-disk.

Oh. It's criminal,
is more like it.

Will you shoot me the MP3s?

Yeah, sure,
but don't you want WAV files?

No, just think what people
will actually be streaming.

Uh, what about video?

Yes, yes.
Uh, stage left A camera.

- Okay.
- All right. Thanks, guys.

Okay. Uh, bye.
You're quite welcome.

- There?
- Yeah.

You want us to come,
to come in stronger there?

- Okay, then yeah.
- Yeah.

Here, 'cause the reigning
dynamic is forte,

which is not good.

- Hmm.
- Yeah?

Yeah. Um, just
one small thing, Maestro.

During the scherzo, um,

th-th-the clarinet solo's
still a bit too loud.

It should really be
an accompanying figure

- to the first violins.
- Hmm.

But apart from that, I'd say
we're in very good shape.

Thank you, Sebastian.

Thank you.

Accurate assessment?

I don't think so.

The clarinet is marked piano,
and we are marked pianissimo.

Sebastian likes to sit
in the stalls,

but there's no problem
with the balance in the circle.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Something a bit more playful.

Mm-hmm.

Oh, and here's something
Tanya and I did with Gustavo.

I think it's very powerful.

Yes, it's-it's really wonderful
work, uh, Karl.

I'm just wondering
if we might try something

a little less, uh, considered.

Something simple like this?

Hmm?

I'm not sure how you would
want to light it.

Have Harald dim
the houselights to half.

Houselights down half, please.

I mean, we could make it work,

but we'd have to bring in
some lights.

Mm-hmm.

If we want to do
something like this,

uh, we'll have to bring
the hot lights

next week, Tanya...
Forget about the strobes.

Hmm.

Thank you for waiting.

Of course, Maestro.

How are we feeling
about today's rehearsal?

Well, Sebastian thinks
your solo in the scherzo

is, uh, a bit loud.

It's possible.

Hmm. I don't agree.

Your dynamic marking is higher
than that of the first violin.

Yes, that's true.

Look.

Sebastian's getting old, Knut.

I'm rotating him out.

You're the first to know.

Well...

Then I will organize a caucus,
and we'll take a vote.

No. No, you won't.

A vote must be taken.

I am familiar with
the electoral conclave.

But the appointment
of the assistant conductor

is entirely my decision.

Yes.

So, I can count on your
support with the others?

Yes.

Good.

Who will you replace him with?

Oh. I'm considering a few names,

but the main thing is we
proceed with this immediately.

I understand.

Maestro, uh, the other players
would like to know

if you have chosen
the companion piece.

Ach!

Okay. Danke.

Oh.

- I...
- It's okay.

Danke.

♪ Changing major to minor. ♪

Uh, I'm sorry, I knocked.

I knew you wanted your keys
back as quickly as possible.

Yes, thanks.

Did you use the company card?

Yeah.

We can use it for your, um...

your taxi home.

Yeah. It's all right.

You can go.

Uh, it wasn't just the keys.

I-I need someone to hold me.

This isn't the place, Francesca.

You're...
That's not about...

I just...

I just got this from someone
over at Accordion.

Oh, no.

When did this happen?

Day before yesterday.

That email she sent you,
it felt like she was already...

Delete it. And the rest.

There's no reason to get
caught up in any intrigue.

Now, now.

Come on. There's nothing
we could have done to stop her.

She wasn't one of us.

I can't stop thinking about
our trip up the Ucayali.

Hmm.

- The three of us were so close.
- Yes.

But that was before
she started making demands.

There was just something
not quite right about her.

She had so much promise.

She did.

Yes.

Almost as much as you.

Now, we have to forget
about her.

You understand?

Right?

- I'm sorry.
- No.

I know you're working.

Oh.

Your...

Your keys are on
the kitchen table.

She went straight to sleep.

Didn't even have
to hold her foot.

And she came home
in a much better mood.

Oh, attagirl.

Met the new cellist today.

Oh, what was that like?

Olga Metkina.

Russian.

Strong player.

Good.

Her facial posture
is a bit much.

How so?

Her legato.

Looks like she's on
the verge of climaxing.

She is young.

Ah, so you've met her.

No, no.

Uh, Francesca
mentioned something.

I think she's arranging
a welcome lunch.

You may want to hold off
on that.

Her invitation is conditional.

You have reservations?

No.

Not really.

We need to see if she fits in.

Did you take your pill?

No.

Thank you for reminding me.

How was Johanna yesterday?

She stays away now.

You let me know if that changes.

Petra, last night, you weren't,
by any chance, in my study?

- No, Lydia.
- Because you do know

you're not supposed to be
in there without me.

I know.

That's right.

S...

It's not so simple.

It's got...
it's got to be messier.

Okay?

A lot of pressure. Okay?

Okay?

S-So familiar to everyone here.

It really doesn't help you to
know this piece so well. Okay.

Same place.

Please.

Please, please, please.

You must watch.

Okay?

It's got to be like, uh,

just one person
singing their heart out.

And...

Okay.

Okay.

Maestro.

What a surprise.

I was just having a spot of lunch.
-Hmm.

C-Can I offer you anything?

Uh, no, thank you.

- Mm, well, some tea, perhaps?
- No, thank you, Sebastian.

You know, I forget sometimes
just how impressive

your collection is here.

Is that Kalinnikov?

- Yes.
- Ah.

Isn't he marvelous?

He belongs in a museum.

I rescued him
for a hundred rubles

from a Kyiv street fair back in '90.
-Huh.

Right after the Wall came down.

That must really
have been something.

Oh, incredible to have
lived through it. -Hmm.

I'd only just arrived here
with Andris,

and suddenly the impossible
was possible.

Yeah.

I'd like to talk about that.

- The reunification?
- Uh, no, no.

But please, sit down.

No, uh, about the possibility

of you fronting
a subscription orchestra.

But I already do.

Yes, but not as Kapellmeister.

If not now,
then when, Sebastian?

You mean leave Berlin?

Well, rotate somewhere, yes.

But this is my home.

Our only home is the podium.

We all live out of a suitcase.

You know that as well as anyone.

Just think about it.

Take your time. Mm?

It's not something
we need to decide now.

It's the girl, isn't it?

I'm sorry, what girl?

Y-You're not asking.

You're telling.

I knew as soon as she showed up
that my days here were numbered.

Andris told me not to worry,
but...

I knew.

I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

Oh, please.

Just because
nobody dares breathe it.

We know the things you do.

The little favors you grant.

I'm...

I really don't know
what to say, Sebastian.

I mean, you of all people

have the temerity
to question my integrity?

No, no.
I-I'm-I'm sorry, Maestro.

I don't, I don't know
what I'm saying.

No, no, no, it's clear you know
exactly what you're saying.

I mean, if that's how
you really feel about me,

then wouldn't you say
that staying is

entirely out of the question?

No, no, please, Maestro.
Please forgive me.

For what?

Your obsequiousness,
your hypocrisy, your misogamy?

- I'm not a misogynist!
- Misogamy.

It's a hatred of marriage.

Andris is still
very much married.

And you occupy an apartment
on the same floor, don't you?

I just don't like
what he's implying.

It could lead to more than
Chinese whispers.

I know.

We barely survived Der Spiegel

when you and I
came out together.

But with Francesca, no one
could point their finger.

It's not like you two are
in a relationship.

Yeah, that's true.

I just...
Turns my stomach to think

the old robot will be right
about something.

He's probably already run
to Andris.

Well, is there someone
other than Francesca

you feel is more qualified?

There are others
equal to the task.

Hmm?

Maybe wait to decide.

Where are we at with DG?

Uh, I spoke to an assistant
in Boyd Muir's office... -Hmm.

Who said they weren't sure
why they decided

on a digital-only set,
what the criteria were.

But I do know they just did

a full-vinyl pressing
for Long Yu.

Of course they did.

The Chinese market's incredible.

All right. Gloves off.

I'm going straight to Lucian.

Maybe he needs to be reminded of

his Annenberg
Inclusion Initiative.

You've got
his contact details, right?

Mm-hmm.
I'll send it to you right now.

My machine's misbehaving again.

I've already spoken to I.T.

Just here... let me borrow yours.

Thank you.

Where's the matcha?

Ah, I wasn't sure
where you were.

Was working out a kink.

The-the matcha's cold.
I-I'll get another.

It's all right.
I don't need it.

Let's just keep working.

Francesca, you did as I asked

and deleted any and all
correspondence with Krista,

correct?

Um, I'm not sure.

Uh, I'm-I'm... I'm not sure.

I-I'll double-check.

You know,
Sebastian's leaving us,

and I wondered if you might, uh,

compile a list
of suitable replacements.

Uh, of course, feel free
to add your own name.

Thank you.

Oh, your-your lunch
with the new cellist.

Oh.

Meant to have you
reschedule that

'til after the orchestra votes.

I'll text her now.

No, wait.

Might as well
see what she's made of.

This food.

The cucumber salad's,
uh, very good.

It's kind of the only
real option in this place

if you're vegetarian.

Uh, do you eat fish?

Not really.

You know, we can go
somewhere else.

L-Like the Store Kitchen.

I mean, it's... uh, it's kind
of a silly tradition really

that new members
are brought here

to sup with the ghosts
of the past.

I mean, at some point,
everyone from... from Napoleon

to Beethoven tucked in for
a meal at one of these tables.

Yes, and Clara Zetkin.

I wonder which one.

Who's that?
It's a, uh, musician?

No. She helped found

Social Democratic
women's movement in Germany

and KPD until
Hitler came to power

and she was exiled
to Soviet Union.

Clara Zetkin?

Yes.

Every March 8th, we place
flowers at her plaque

in Kremlin Wall Necropolis.

Her birthday?

No, International Women's Day.

Are you ready, Maestro?

Yes, uh... -Yes,
first shashlik, then veal.

- For you?
- Cucumber salad.

- Thank you.
- Good choice.

Some more bread?

Hmm.

It's good.
Would you like a bite?

Oh, no.

No. Thank you.

Have you lived in Berlin long?

No, not at all.

I have friends in Wicker I visit

until I know decision of orchestra.
-Hmm.

Simonov will hold your place?

Yes, I think so.
He is my uncle.

Oh.

But my dream has always been
to play with Berlin.

Oh, me, too.

There's nowhere like it.

I imagine, uh, Rostropovich
is a hero of yours.

Well, of course, he was great.

We study him
at Moscow Conservatory,

but growing up, my favorite
is Jacqueline du Pré.

She made me want to play cello.

Which record was it?

Not record. YouTube.

Elgar Concerto.

Oh, of course.

With Barenboim conducting
the London Phil.

I don't know who was conducting.

But she did something to me.

That's when I decide
to learn piece

and play it
with youth orchestra.

Quite a challenge.
How old were you?

Thirteen.

Wow.

I'd love to hear it.

They make video.
I will text to you.

Beautiful.

Now, um, just before we break,

I know many of you are wondering

what the companion piece
will be.

And I have been
thinking quite a bit about it

and was wondering
if we could just take

an informal poll about
possibly pairing the Five

with Elgar's Cello Concerto.

Oh, and, uh, given what
we've all been through,

what we're still going through,

and we're finally back
together as a family, I-I...

I feel that
maybe the soloist

should come from
within our own ranks.

Yeah.

Good. Okay, good.

Just... Sorry.
One more question.

And this really is
just for you, Gosia.

I mean...

as a practical matter,
I mean, this would

normally fall to you.

But given how much is gonna be
asked of you with the Mahler,

I-I wondered if you'd be
at all bothered

if we were to hold auditions?

Well, that's a bit unorthodox.

But, in theory,
I have no objection.

My only hesitation
will depend on

when these auditions
might take place.

I wouldn't want them in any way

to interfere with
our sectionals.

No, no, no.
That's a good point.

I mean, it is gonna
have to be a...

It's gonna have to be a sprint.

Um...

How about Monday?

All right.

Okay, good.

Knut, would you assemble
a quorum for Monday?

Let me see what she says.

Okay, I got, I gotta go.

Britta, hi.

Lydia.

- Just caught the end.
- Ah!

What'd you think? How's it, uh,
how's it sounding?

Oh, it's fantastic.

I can't wait
until the live recording.

Yes, well.

I'll be happy when it's over.

It's always that way.

I know you're busy, and I don't
want to add to your load,

but...

Andris Davis called.

Look, he's upset
I'm rotating Sebastian.

No, no, no, no, no.

Something else.

But you will please
let Laura know

as soon as you have chosen
his replacement

so she can prepare
a press release.

Yeah, of course.

Uh, so what did he want?

To complain about
the punctuality of a driver

he seems to believe
the board supplies him with.

Do you know anything about this?

Yes.

No, it's just... it's just
something I pay for.

Then why does he believe
it's the board?

Because he needs
to believe that.

H-He needs to b...

needs to believe he hasn't
been forgotten, Britta.

Uh, the academy
has von Karajan's name on it,

and there are love shrines
to Abbado all over this place.

But the name of Davis, it's
essentially nowhere to be seen.

All right.

Then perhaps Francesca could
have a word with the driver.

Of course.

One other thing.

It's unpleasant.

Oh, is it?

Operational shortfall?

Must I take Mrs. Sewing
out to drinks again?

No, no, no, nothing to do
with the orchestra.

Do you remember
an Accordion Academy fellow

named Krista Taylor?

Yes. Why?

Apparently,
she committed suicide.

Oh, God. Poor thing.

Her parents mu...

Wait, sorry,
I'm... I'm confused, Britta.

Why, why were you put
in the position

to deliver this terrible news?

Why didn't Accordion
contact me directly?

It's delicate, Lydia.

Mr. Kaplan thought
it might be best

if you contacted a lawyer

before speaking with anyone
at Accordion.

Well, presumably, that anyone
includes Eliot himself.

I'm, I'm sorry, why-why
would I need to do that?

Apparently, some accusations
have been made.

Accusations?
What kind of accusations?

He didn't say.

But they were brought
to Accordion's counsel.

Mr. Kaplan said he's certain
nothing will come of it,

but one can't be too careful.

I'm sorry about the hour.
It's Lydia Tár calling.

I need to speak to Mr. Singer
immediately.

Yes.

Yes, it's urgent.

Tired?

Sleep's elusive.

I was the same
before a recording date.

Lydia...

are-are you absolutely
certain about Sebastian?

Mm-hmm.

Who will you replace him with?

Possibly Andrew Crust.

He's been assisting
Otto Tausk at the VSO.

Not the girl?

Andris...

have you ever had an issue

with a, a student or colleague,

where that person may have
misinterpreted your intention?

Has someone been complaining
about me?

- No, no, no, of course not.
- Because at this point,

they've missed their chance.

- I'm out of the game.
- Yes, yes, I know, I know.

Course you are.

Thank God I was never pulled
from the podium

like Jimmy Levine.

Or-or hunted
like Charles Dutoit.

I take it you're asking
for a reason.

Well, there's just been
so much of this sort of thing

in the news lately.

Well, nowadays, to be accused
is the same as being guilty.

But I suppose
that was also the case

all those years ago
with Furtwängler.

A bit with Karajan, too.

Who was the better conductor?

I never played
under Furtwängler.

Yeah, when I first arrived here,
the older members

had, uh, hmm, hushed opinions.

At the same time, they wanted
to leave that era behind.

What, the war?

- No, postwar.
- Ah.

Denazification.

Someone pointed a finger at you,

process started all over again.

Furtwängler never joined
the Party.

Refused to give the salute

or to conduct the
"Horst-Wessel-Lied."

Or to sign his letters,
"Heil, Hitler."

Even those he wrote to Hitler.

But he was obliged
to be denazified.

Until then, he was semiretired,

playing corpses.

Playing corpses?

Secretly performing
in a graveyard.

You're not equating
sexual impropriety

with being an accused Nazi?

Either way, you had to be ready.

For years, I made sure
all the hangers in my closet

were facing the same direction.

How many are auditioning
on Monday?

No one.

No one?

Maybe Martin.

He's never gotten along
with Gosia.

He would love to sit downstage
for once.

Well...

he's still gonna
have to audition.

Of course.

Have to follow the rules.

Aren't we being
a bit formal, Francesca?

From what I understand,
there's only one player, right?

No, Maestro, there are two.

Well, it's unanimous.

- Number two.
- Mm-hmm.

And we have a problem.

She's not officially
been invited

to become a member
of the orchestra.

Well, she wouldn't need to be
to solo for us.

I believe the criteria
of the audition

was all section members?

Then her audition gets thrown out.
- No.

Francesca, please ask Martin
to come back in

so we can give him the news.

Wait. Gosia, let's talk.

Shit!

Yeah!

I'll confirm solo rehearsal
dates with her.

Thank you.

Have a seat.

I have made a decision

regarding Sebastian's
replacement.

And I want you to know
it wasn't an easy one.

Uh, this position brings with it
enormous responsibility,

and my personal affection
for you aside... -

I will have to go with
someone more, more experienced.

Oh, leave me alone.

I don't have your paper.

I've told you before, I...

Oh, I'm sorry. Please come in.

Good. Good.

I-I think the contrast is,
it's much better now.

- Don't you think?
- Hmm.

How do you take your coffee?

Black. Strong.

Is all right if I play?

Hmm? Oh, yes,
of course, of course.

That's as far as I've gotten.

But it's good.

Um, this part here.

Maybe change A to B-flat?

That's better.
I like that sound.

Come on. Take a break.

Okay.

Sharon?

Hello.

Petra.

What are you doing in here?

I'm hiding from her.

Why?

Because she told me
to put my things in order,

but they already are.

I can see that.

Come on.

They're all waiting for you.

I'm going to give
everyone a pencil.

All of them?

They can't all conduct, honey.

It's not a,
it's not a democracy.

Okay, uh...

- Hey, that's good.
- Yeah. Good.

You happy?

How long were you acquainted
with Miss Taylor?

Oh, I'd have to double-check
with my assistant,

but cumulatively speaking,
I'd say

- not more than a few months.
- Hmm.

Thank you for your time, Maestro.
-Not at all.

This recording will exist on
a protected server... -Mm-hmm.

Under attorney-client
privilege with Mr. Singer.

- Great.
- He will follow up with you

to help prepare
for the deposition.

Deposition?

Yes.

I assumed you were aware.

Mr. Singer's office said
they'd been coordinating

with your assistant.

Francesca, you'd better get
your pretty little ass to work

right now.

The only communication
we've received from Francesca

was an email to my assistant
in the middle of the night

tendering her immediate
resignation,

stating she would be in contact

when she had more details
to provide.

What kind of details?

A new address, I suppose.

In the meantime,
we've been trying all morning

to find someone suitable
to assist you

on a temporary basis.

For now, perhaps
your new assistant conductor

would be the right fit.

No. No. He's not available
'til after the live Five date.

Yes, I'm ready. Let's go.

I know how much
you depended on her.

Two-faced little bitch.

Imagine her hurt, Tár.

Don't you dare try to defend her.
-God, slow down!

She'll come galumphing back.

I mean, I've got a dumb phone
like every robot. -Tár, s...

How hard can it be to text
all day? -

Slow down!

Or let me out!

Francesca!

Fräulein?

Come.

Sorry I'm late again.

Oh.

D-Do you live here?

Not normally, no.

Uh, make yourself at home.

I'm just gonna put something on.

Do you have a towel?

- Yes.
- Thank you.

I got caught in the rain.

There is small concert
with musician friends.

You should come.

Thanks, but I-I...
really must get home.

- You have child, yes?
- Mm-hmm.

I will not do that.

Pets are better for some people.

Oh.

What... Oh.

- Sorry.
- Bye.

Oh, yes. Goodbye. Yes.

- Goodbye.
- Okay.

- Oh.
- Okay.

Oh, Olga!

Olga!

Olga?

Olga?

Hello?

Olga?

Olga?

Olga?

Why didn't you go to the police?

I fought. He ran.
What's to tell?

Oh, God.

I'm gonna get you something
for the pain.

No, I don't need anything.

No, I'm gonna get you something.

Ja.

Lydia!

Lydia!

What is it?

Hold my foot.

Is that better?

Yes.

Okay.

Let's, uh, shoo the elephant
from the room.

"What the hell happened
to her face?"

"Did she, uh, schedule
a nose and eye job

and bail before the surgeon
finished the other half?"

No.

I was, uh, I was attacked.

Thank you.

I'm fine. Really.

Should've seen the other guy.

All right.

Don't.

It burns.

You must see the doctor.

He's booked 'til next week.

I'll call them again

and tell them how much pain
you're in.

No, no, let's just,
let's just finish up here.

Okay?

Overall, the balance
feels right.

Other than a quick brushup,

we should concentrate
on the Elgar.

You're certain of that?

I think so. Yes.

We're absolutely
rock-solid there,

but I am going to try
to hold them back here.

Uh, they're just
getting caught up in the power

of your, uh, glissando
in there, trying to match it.

Um, probably...

Where were you attacked,
Maestro?

Oh, doesn't matter.

Here.

Thank you.

There you are.

- When did this fall happen?
- Uh, it's all a blur.

Three, four days ago.

It's just my shoulder. Yeah.

It kind of burns,
like I fell asleep by the pool.

Okay, you can
put your shirt back on.

You've damaged some nerves.

The burning sensation
you're feeling

is called notalgia paresthetica.

Nostalgia?

"Notalgia." No "S."

- Well, how do we treat it?
- You don't.

Eventually, it goes away.

An adjustment might help.
You're somewhat crooked.

Oh, well, then you must be

a Negro product
exploited by the Jews.

Now let's turn our gaze back
to the piano bench up there

to a superhot young woman.

That's-that's...
th-that was very good.

Now, you could masturbate,

but what are you
actually doing to me?

- Britta.
- Hi, hi.

- Have you seen it?
- Yes, yes. I've just seen it.

Gathering this afternoon.

- This afternoon?
- Is that a problem?

No, just...
No, it's no problem.

First of all, that class was
conducted in a tech-free zone.

And second,
whoever violated that rule

edited what we've all seen
to create linguistic traps

to completely redefine my words.

I mean, look at the
reverse shots on the students.

There's no way that was done
in real time.

It's a hatchet job.

I'm sure that's true, Lydia.

And were it just this video,
we would not be sitting here.

Unfortunately,
it's linked to an article in

the New York Post regarding
Krista Taylor's suicide,

which alludes to
other Accordion fellows

they claim to have interviewed.

Laura, can you tell us
about your conversations?

We haven't had any.

Obviously, we gave no response

as we first wanted to meet
to discuss strategy. -Mm-hmm.

- Here's the article.
- Thank you, Laura.

"Enticed and groomed
multiple young women

"to engage in sex acts
for professional favors.

Blocked opportunities
to those who didn't comply."

This is total fiction.

And the Post is
a how-de-do scandal rag.

No serious person reads it.

And so far as
Krista Taylor goes,

she was disturbed.

I mean, she fixated on me.

In what way?

She sent me weird gifts.

She trolled me online.

- She tried to send me signals.
- Well, what kind of signals?

She vandalized my Wikipedia
page to say she was my muse.

I mean,
that's easily checked, right?

And did you ever report this
or file a complaint?

No.

No. And I... Look, I probably,
I probably should have.

I... I felt sorry for her.

Is this something
you shared with Sharon?

No. I didn't want
to burden her with it.

Don't you think you should have?
-Yes. Yes.

Well, what-what do you advise?

Well, for now, it hasn't gotten
all that much traction.

None of the trades have linked
to it or called for comment.

So I say let's see what happens.
-Mm-hmm.

We wanted to give you as much
warning as possible, Lydia,

before this Friday's
donor meeting.

Well, unfortunately,
I won't be there.

Well, I very much advise
that you are.

I have the book launch
in New York

and apparently a deposition.

Well, we'll fill you in
upon your return, then.

Enjoy your weekend.

Starving.

Finished my thing today.

Congratulations.
We should go out and celebrate.

I can't. I gotta pack.

- Hi!
- Hi, Lydia.

Sharon?

Yeah?

You seen my performance score?

No. Why?
Isn't it with the other ones?

No. No, it's not.

Are you sure
it's not in my office?

Yeah, what about
the orchestra library?

Yeah, can you
check again, please?

I don't know. Yes, exactly.

Lydia?

Yes?

When will you be back?

The day after tomorrow.

Will you promise?

Yes, I promise.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Thanks.
Do you have any bottles?

Of course.

Do you need anything else
before I close the cabin door?

Uh, yes.
Uh, we're waiting on one more.

To all my questions

pertaining to
your communications

with Krista Taylor and others,

your answers have always been

"I don't know"
or "I don't remember."

Is there anything
I could show you

that might help refresh
your recollection?

Any documents,
such as emails from you

or your personal assistant,
Miss Lentini,

that might help you recall
what you did and didn't say?

I guess you heard by now.

Bryant Park bumped you
to 53rd Street.

This is the Kaplan Fund's
prepared statement.

I'm sorry to say this is likely

the last time
we'll see each other.

Well, now I can buy
my own plane tickets.

And you can bother someone else

to try and teach you
to crawl to the podium.

Is there a back entrance?

"Indeed, the common metaphors
used to explain music

"are based on
the idea that music

"is a language,
albeit a secret one.

"And in this way,
holy and unknowable."

"These joyful noises we make
being the closest thing

"any of us might ever
experience to the divine...

"yet something born by
the mere act of moving air."

"No different than birdsong."

So, meet downstairs
in half an hour for dinner?

Thank you, but I am jet-lagged.
I go to sleep now.

Yeah, me, too.
I'll... probably do the same.

Yes, hello.

Yes, there's no water
in my room.

Yes, I've checked the minibar.

How long would it take
to get a bottle of water?

Uh, don't worry.
I'll just come down.

Lobby, please.

Oh, Jesus.

It was Britta.

Right?

I mean, that is
how you heard about

these millennial robots
trading in lies.

I couldn't care less about
the Juilliard thing.

Too much time on her hands.

She's fringe.

The worst kind.

Every time
I walk out of this house,

she's in your ear with intrigue
or she's asking me about

some other piece of fringe,
like Samantha Hankey.

God, a nobody
who has nothing better to do

than drop my name at lunch
and imply things.

I feel sorry for you.

Save it.

I tried calling you last night.

Did you have fun with her?

My back is killing me.

Francesca left,

and I simply needed someone
to carry my bags.

I mean, who was I
supposed to ask?

To go with me? Hmm? Knut?

Jesus fucking...

There are many things
I accept about you.

And in the end,

I'm sure I could get over
something like this.

But that's not what
we're talking about, is it?

These accusations

from the parents of the girl
who suicided?

You honestly believe
what they're saying?

They're lies.

Do you understand
what it was like

to walk into
my sectional yesterday

and to see everybody
whispering about me?

It's got nothing to do with
what they're accusing you of.

It's a simple matter

of not warning me
that our family is in danger.

And what good
would that have done?

I mean, what could you possibly
do to make things better?

Because I deserve that.

Those are the rules.

You are to ask
for my fucking counsel,

the way you always have.

The way you did
when you first arrived here

as a guest conductor looking
for a permanent position.

You asked me
what were the politics,

what were the moves,
how could we swing it.

Of course...

these conversations
took place in another bed.

Or rather, the couch

of that horrible place
you still can't let go of.

Old sorrow blows in.

How cruel of you to define our
relationship as transactional.

There's only one relationship
you've ever had that wasn't.

And she is sleeping
in the room next door.

Apparently, this hasn't even
crossed your mind.

Petra!

Come here, darling.

- It was good.
- Was it?

- Yeah.
- You want to go to the park?

Don't do this.
Please don't do this.

Please don't.

Hello. I am Anna Franzen.

This is
my late mother's apartment.

Oh, yeah, I'm so sorry
about your mother.

Thank you.

How's your sister doing?

Eleanor lives now
in a facility in Neukölln.

I'm sorry to trouble you,

but my husband and I
are selling the place

and couldn't help
hearing the music.

Oh.

I'm glad you enjoyed it.

We were wondering if there are

specific hours you rehearse,

so we can schedule showings
around them.

We don't want to scare
potential buyers off

with all the noise.

Oh, no.

No.

No, we wouldn't want that.

♪ Apartment for sale ♪

♪ Apartment for sale ♪

♪ Your mother's buried deep ♪

♪ And now you're gonna keep ♪

♪ Her apartment for sale ♪

♪ Your sister's in jail ♪

♪ You put your sister in jail ♪

♪ You're all going to hell ♪

♪ Your apartment's for sale! ♪

Okay.

Give me some eyes.

Come on, give me some eyes!

Lydia.

This is my score.

Lydia, you're confused.

It's my score!

You fucking little nothing!

I'm fine.

You sign CAMI voucher.

Good afternoon. CAMI.

Hold on.

Normally, I'd think Lisa Rich

in our booking department
would be a great fit for you,

but she's just got
too much on her plate.

So, I'd like to team you
with Jake here.

Jake, you want to,
you want to show Lydia

what you've prepared for her?

Well...

right now it's a reset.

What we're after is less,
not more.

We want to be selective

and rebuild this
from the ground up.

That means we need a new story.

Just here.

Here. Thank you.

Make it 40.

Thank you.

Didn't you feel triumphant?

Now we can really understand
what the meaning of music is.

It's the way it makes you feel
when you hear it.

Finally, we've taken
that last giant step.

And we're there.
We know what music means now.

And we don't have to know
a lot of stuff about sharps

and flats and chords
and all that business

in order to understand music
if it tells us something.

And the most wonderful thing of
all is that there's no limit to

the different kinds of feelings
music can make you have.

And some of those feelings
are so special and so deep

that they can't even be
described in words.

You see, we can't always name

the things we feel.

Sometimes we can.

We can say we feel joy,

pleasure, peacefulness,
whatever, love, hate.

But every once in a while,

we have feelings that are
so deep and so special

that we have no words for them.

And that's where music
is so marvelous,

because music names them for us,

only in notes
instead of in words.

It's all in the way music moves.

You must never forget
that music is movement,

always going somewhere,
shifting and changing

and flowing
from one note to another.

And that movement can tell us

more about the way we feel
than a million words can.

And here we're going
to play you a...

Tony.

Oh.

Hi, Linda.

Sorry.

Lydia.

Ma said you'd be over.

You must be hiding out.

Why would I be hiding out?

Beats the hell out of me.

None of my business anyhow.

Lot of loose ends,
you got to admit.

What do you mean?

Well, like I said,
it ain't my business.

But you don't seem to know
where the hell you came from

or where you're going.

May I come inside?

Thank you.

Um, I'm so sorry.

Uh, we just wanted to confirm
that the composer was in fact

not flying in from Osaka
to attend the concert.

Oh.

I-I must tell you that I-I
looked in the music libraries,

uh, for her score,
but I-I couldn't find anything.

- This just arrived.
- Ah.

That's great. Thank you.

Shirley and Cirio will be
most happy to show you

the sights of our beautiful country.
-Oh. Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Oh, goodness.

Thank-thank you.

Maybe we could stop somewhere
and take a swim.

Yeah, at the waterfall.

But, mm, not in the river.

Why? Is there something wrong
with the water?

N-No. There are crocodiles.

Oh.

I didn't think
they'd be this far inland.

They escaped from
Marlon Brando movie.

Wow.

That was a long time ago.

They survive.

Lady. Lady...

Here is prescription.

- Ten dollars.
- Oh. Thank you.

Uh, is there somewhere
around here... thank you...

Where I could get a massage?

Was hoping it might help me
with this jet lag.

Hmm.

Yes.

There is
the very nice place I know.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Please step over
to the fishbowl.

The... the fishbowl?

Yes, over there.

Um, I'm sorry, I'm confused.

H-How does this...
how does it work?

You just pick a number here.

I pick a number?

Yes.

Number five?

Good morning.

Good morning.

Now, before we begin,
let's-let's talk a bit about

the composer's intent
with this piece.

And what she might be after.

Five minutes.

Thank you.

Sisters and brothers
of the Fifth Fleet, it's time.

I'll keep my farewell brief.

Never was much with words.

Once you board this ship,
there's no turning back.

The next ground your feet touch
will be that of the New World.

If any of you
have lost your nerve,

then step away now
and let no one judge you.