Sunday, March 1, 2026

Mahler’s “Titan” Rises in Macon


 On a bitterly cold and wind-swept Monday evening, I drove an hour south from Atlanta to Macon, a historic central Georgia city long steeped in musical tradition. The destination was the Grand Opera House, built in 1884 and still one of the region’s principal cultural landmarks. There, the Macon-Mercer Symphony Orchestra performed under Mei-Ann Chen, an American conductor raised in Taiwan whose heritage remains central to her artistic identity.

Chen currently serves as Music Director of the Chicago Sinfonietta, an ensemble nationally recognized for breaking new ground in programming and championing diverse voices. That spirit of ambition and inclusion was evident in Macon as well.

Before the program began, Chen addressed the audience warmly, recalling how her early work with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra provided a formative professional boost at the outset of her career. She also offered gratitude to Amy Schwartz Moretti of the McDuffie Center for Strings for her support. Readers may find a more detailed conversation with Chen at https://www.earrelevant.net/2026/02/finding-a-voice-on-the-podium-a-conversation-with-conductor-mei-ann-chen/

The concert opened with four songs by young writers from the Otis Redding Center for the Arts—Under The Tree (Aislin Taylor), Neverland (Madisyn Cabiness), Mourning Dove (Sam Behrend), and To Be Known (Sara Mazanec), arranged by David Mallamud. These lush and expressive selections were confidently delivered by 16- and 17-year-old artists and met with waves of appreciative applause. The performances affirmed that Macon’s musical lineage continues to renew itself in the present.

After intermission came Symphony No. 1 by Gustav Mahler, a work often considered a rite of passage for orchestras. Mahler resisted attaching fixed narrative programs to his symphonies, yet he initially referred to this one as “Titan,” borrowing from Jean Paul’s novel before later withdrawing the title. The nickname endures, and the symphony suggests a broad emotional arc: awakening, rustic vitality, irony and sorrow, and finally an assertive arrival. Each movement functions almost as a tone poem within the larger architecture.

Chen proved a striking presence on the podium. She conducts with her entire frame—arms expansive, torso engaged, knees bending deeply into phrases. At moments of heightened intensity she even leapt slightly off the podium, physically embodying climactic impulses. The orchestra responded attentively to these kinetic cues.

The symphony is in four movements:

I. Langsam, schleppend; Immer sehr gemächlich.
The first movement emerges from suspended stillness before unfolding into expansive lyricism, loosely shaped in an A-B-A form. The central bridge, relatively calm, connects two powerful spans. In this performance, that middle section lost some forward propulsion and felt momentarily listless, though the opening and closing sections were well shaped and secure. Some phrase contours felt slightly unconventional, yet nothing compromised the larger structure.

II. Kräftig bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell.
This rustic Ländler-like dance projected sturdy character in its outer sections. The physicality of Chen’s approach suited the muscular rhythms well. As in the first movement, the more relaxed middle episode eased the momentum somewhat, though ensemble coordination remained firm.

III. Feierlich und gemessen; Sehr einfach und schlicht wie eine Volksweise.
Mahler’s minor-mode transformation of a children’s tune allowed the orchestra to find its strongest collective focus. The forward motion tightened noticeably. The grotesque undertones were clear yet controlled, resulting in a performance that was at once unsettling and compelling. Here the ensemble seemed fully aligned with Chen’s shaping.

IV. Stürmisch bewegt – Energisch.
The finale began with such force that a patron seated in front of me visibly jumped. With much of the brass and several woodwinds drawn from the Atlanta Symphony, the climaxes were formidable. The Grand Opera House acoustic favors brightness, emphasizing upper overtones; the result was thrillingly incisive brass sonorities, though cymbal strikes occasionally bordered on excessive brilliance. The concluding pages drove forward with exhilarating power.

The string players, many from the McDuffie Center for Strings, deserve special praise. They played with confidence in forte passages and maintained excellent ensemble cohesion throughout. In pianissimo sections, the sound occasionally hesitated, lacking the same assurance heard in louder dynamics, yet their discipline and unity were evident.

Undertaking Mahler’s First with a relatively young and evolving orchestra signals ambition. Delivering it with conviction suggests maturity. On Monday evening, Chen lived up to her press notices. She is indeed a dynamic conductor who leads with conviction and authority, even when working with a developing ensemble. For Atlanta readers, the Macon-Mercer Symphony is well worth the pleasant drive south. What unfolded was more than a concert; it was an affirmation that this orchestra is stepping confidently into its next chapter.

Friday, February 20, 2026

Mei-Ann Chen: Finding a Voice on the Podium

 

 


Mei-Ann Chen: Finding a Voice on the Podium

From postwar Taiwan to the American orchestral landscape, a conductor’s path shaped by history, responsibility, and musical conviction

 William Ford interviews Mei-Ann Chen, an internationally renowned conductor known for her energetic podium presence, adventurous programming, and commitment to expanding the symphonic repertoire. She has appeared with orchestras across North America, Europe, and Asia, working with ensembles of widely varying traditions and institutional cultures.

She is Music Director of the Chicago Sinfonietta, where she has been a central artistic force, shaping programs that combine core repertoire with contemporary and underrepresented voices. Her work there has emphasized both musical excellence and audience engagement, positioning the orchestra as a model for mission-driven symphonic leadership.

 She also serves the equivalent position in Austria, as Chief Conductor of Recreation - Grosses Orchester Graz at Styriarte (the first female Asian conductor to hold this position with an Austrian orchestra), and is the first-ever Artistic Partner of Houston’s ROCO, and Artistic Partner with Northwest Sinfonietta (WA).

 In addition to her work in Chicago, Chen maintains an active international guest-conducting career and is regularly invited to lead major orchestras and festivals. She is also deeply involved in musical training and mentorship, working with Carnegie's esteemed NYO2 for young musicians (age 14-17), New England Conservatory (her alma mater), and Manhattan School of Music, among others,  where she works closely with the next generation of conductors and orchestral musicians.

Chen’s career reflects a balance between interpretive rigor, institutional leadership, and a forward-looking view of the orchestral field, grounded in a belief that symphonic music remains a vital and evolving art form.

Interview with Mei-Ann Chen

Reconstructed Q&A for clarity and flow

 WF: Where are you based right now?

 MAC: Chicago is my home base, though I’m on the road most of the year. I work regularly with about six orchestras and guest conduct with roughly twenty to twenty-five ensembles annually, so I’m constantly moving. But Chicago is where I reset.

 WF: Talk about the town you grew up in, Kaohsiung.

 MAC: Kaohsiung is in southern Taiwan. I grew up there, and in recent years the city transformed an abandoned military base into a major arts complex with four venues. It’s called Wei-Wu-Ying, and it’s now one of the most significant performing arts centers in Asia. Seeing it completed has been deeply meaningful for me.

 WF: Let’s go back to your early years. What was your musical environment growing up?

 MAC: My parents were educators, not professional musicians. They grew up during and immediately after the Japanese occupation, at a time when daily life involved real privation and uncertainty. For their generation, stability and education were not abstractions but necessities that had to be fought for and protected.

 Formal Western music education in Taiwan only really began shortly before my generation, and I was among the first students to go through that system. My parents loved music—my father would whistle melodies constantly, and my mother loved to sing, especially in church—but more than that, they believed deeply in education as a way forward. They invested heavily in my sister’s and my musical education, even when resources were limited, because they saw it as part of building a more secure future.

WF: How did you come to music yourself?

MAC: My sister began violin lessons, and I was meant to accompany her on piano. She ultimately became a visual artist and didn’t enjoy performing, so I continued with both piano and violin. I began piano at seven, violin a bit later. When I joined an orchestra at age ten, something changed. Watching the conductor communicate entirely through body language made a profound impression on me. I realized I wanted to “play the largest instrument in the room.”

WF: Conducting wasn’t an obvious path at that point, though.

MAC: Not at all. There were no conducting teachers in Taiwan then, and my parents were worried. But I was determined. I memorized my violin parts so I could watch the conductor constantly. In retrospect, that was my first conducting training.

 WF: Pursuing conducting meant stepping away from a path your parents initially imagined for you. How did you experience that tension?

 MAC: That was very difficult. My parents had lived through enormous historical and social upheaval, and stability mattered deeply to them. Becoming a violinist felt concrete and respectable in a way that conducting did not, especially at that time in Taiwan. Conducting wasn’t something they could easily picture as a real profession.

 I felt a strong sense of responsibility to honor their sacrifices. Coming to the United States on a violin scholarship was part of that. I wasn’t rebelling against my parents so much as trying to reconcile gratitude with necessity. At the same time, I knew that if I didn’t follow the pull toward conducting, I would always feel that I had abandoned something essential. Over time, I think they came to understand that conducting wasn’t a rejection of their hopes, but an extension of the values they gave me—discipline, service, and commitment.

 WF: When did the idea of studying abroad emerge?

 MAC: When I was sixteen, a youth orchestra affiliated with the New England Conservatory toured Taiwan. I was invited to play for Benjamin Zander the next morning. After hearing me play, he urged me to come to the United States and helped a secure scholarship at the Walnut Hill School for the Arts in Massachusetts. That move was a major turning point. It was my first sustained experience of musical life outside Taiwan.

 WF: How did your formal conducting training develop?

 MAC: I went on to study at the New England Conservatory, where I pursued both violin and conducting. I earned my bachelor’s degree in violin performance, followed by a master’s degree in violin. At the same time, I completed a separate master’s degree in orchestral conducting. Those years were demanding, but they allowed me to develop as both an instrumentalist and a conductor within the same musical environment.

At NEC I studied with Frank Battisti, who emphasized practical musicianship. He asked me to organize ensembles for class, which meant recruiting players and working directly with winds, brass, and percussion. I learned orchestral repertoire from the ground up—what it takes for sound to happen before the first note. That grounding in how sound is physically and socially produced has stayed with me throughout my career.

 WF: You later completed a doctorate in conducting.

 MAC: Yes. After my early professional work had begun to take shape, I earned a Doctor of Musical Arts degree in conducting at the University of Michigan. That period gave me the space to consolidate my training, reflect on leadership, and deepen my relationship with the repertoire.

 WF: Choir also played a role for you.

 MAC: Yes. When I ended up pursing academic fields instead of being a music major during middle school in Taiwan, choir became an interesting entry point for me as a conductor. I stepped in as an assistant conductor, led choirs for competitions, and conducted when teachers were absent. That period was important because music stopped being about fulfilling my parents’ expectations and became my own expressive necessity.

WF: How did your career begin to take shape professionally?

 MAC:  After earning dual master’s degrees in violin and conducting, the transition into a professional career was difficult. Immigration rules tightened after 9/11, and I was advised that, as a young conductor even with a full-time position with the oldest youth orchestra in the country, winning a major international competition would be essential if I wanted to remain in the United States and continue working.

 I was invited to participate in the Malko Competition with the hope of getting one of the six prizes given. To my surprise, I broke the Competition record by becoming the first woman to win First Prize — it marked a decisive turning point. It opened doors across Europe and made a professional conducting career viable.

 WF: Atlanta was an important chapter for you.

 MAC: Yes. I auditioned for the Atlanta Symphony, and the Music Director then, Robert Spano told me, “America needs your kind of conductor.” The musicians there helped launch my career in a meaningful way. That support made a lasting impression and shaped my understanding of leadership and collaboration. I also knew Amy Schwartz Moretti during her time in Oregon, and I am very grateful she was my first contact with the invitation to conduct in Macon on February 23, 2026.

 

 

Friday, February 13, 2026

A Conversation with Composer Behzad Ranjbaran

 

Finding a voice on the podium: a conversation with conductor Mei-Ann Chen

 An internationally renowned conductor known for her energetic podium presence, adventurous programming, and commitment to expanding the symphonic repertoire, Mei-Ann Chen has appeared with orchestras across North America, Europe, and Asia, working with ensembles of widely varying traditions and institutional cultures.

She is Music Director of the Chicago Sinfonietta, where she has been a central artistic force, shaping programs that combine core repertoire with contemporary and underrepresented voices. Her work there has emphasized both musical excellence and audience engagement, positioning the orchestra as a model for mission-driven symphonic leadership.

She also serves the equivalent position in Austria, as Chief Conductor of Recreation – Grosses Orchester Graz at Styriarte (the first female Asian conductor to hold this position with an Austrian orchestra), and is the first-ever Artistic Partner of Houston’s ROCO, and Artistic Partner with Northwest Sinfonietta (WA).

In addition to her work in Chicago, Chen maintains an active international guest-conducting career and is regularly invited to lead major orchestras and festivals. She is also deeply involved in musical training and mentorship, serving on the conducting faculty of the Curtis Institute of Music, suggest instead: working with Carnegie’s esteemed NYO2 for young musicians (age 14-17), New England Conservatory (her alma mater), and Manhattan School of Music, among others, where she works closely with the next generation of conductors and orchestral musicians.

Chen’s career reflects a balance between interpretive rigor, institutional leadership, and a forward-looking view of the orchestral field, grounded in a belief that symphonic music remains a vital and evolving art form.

William Ford recently interviewed Chen in advance of her appearance as guest conductor with the Macon-Mercer Symphony Orchestra at The Grand Opera House in Macon, Georgia, on February 23, 2026. Their conversation has been carefully reconstructed in the Q&A below, edited for clarity, flow, readability and length.

• • •

William Ford: Where are you based right now?

Mei-Ann Chen: Chicago is my home base, though I’m on the road most of the year. I work regularly with about six orchestras and guest conduct with roughly twenty to twenty-five ensembles annually, so I’m constantly moving. But Chicago is where I reset.

For the complete interview, go here:  https://www.earrelevant.net/2026/02/finding-a-voice-on-the-podium-a-conversation-with-conductor-mei-ann-chen/

Is the Kennedy Center Facing a $100 Million Deficit?

 

Is the Kennedy Center Facing a $100 Million Deficit?

Recent reporting in the Wall Street Journal and other outlets cited statements from newly installed leadership at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts claiming they inherited a roughly $100 million operating deficit.

It is a striking number. But in nonprofit finance, terms like “deficit” can carry multiple meanings. The word may refer to a projected shortfall, a multi-year structural imbalance, restricted funds that cannot be used for operations, capital obligations, or simple timing differences between pledged and received contributions.

Without a precise definition, the headline number alone tells us very little.

So what do the publicly available financial documents actually show?

The Kennedy Center by the Numbers

To evaluate the claim, the starting point is the Kennedy Center’s most recent IRS Form 990 filing (FY2023, covering 10/1/2023–9/30/2024)

A $306 Million Operation

For FY2023, the Kennedy Center reported:

  • Total revenue: $306.9 million
  • Total expenses: $266.2 million
  • Operating surplus: $40.7 million

On the balance sheet:

  • Total assets: $691.4 million
  • Total liabilities: $133.1 million
  • Net assets: $558.3 million

Net assets increased year over year, strengthening the organization’s overall financial position.

These figures describe a large institution with substantial resources and a reported annual surplus. They do not, however, describe forward-looking budget projections or internal operating gaps beyond the fiscal year covered by the filing.

Revenue Structure

The Kennedy Center’s revenue mix reflects diversification.

Contributions and grants: $182.6 million (≈59%)

Including:

  • $55.4 million in government grants
  • $14.8 million from fundraising events
  • $4.4 million in membership dues
  • $107.1 million in other gifts and contributions

 

Program service revenue: $104.9 million (≈34%)

Including:

  • Programming receipts: $93.6 million
  • Ticket handling fees: $9.1 million
  • Theater license fees: $2.2 million

Additional operating revenue:

  • Parking income: $8.6 million
  • Restaurant income: $2.7 million
  • Other event income: $0.9 million

 

Investment income and asset gains added supplemental diversification.

The financial model combines philanthropy, public funding, and earned income from programming and facilities.

Expenses: Labor-Driven Operations

Total expenses were $266.2 million.

Personnel costs represent the largest component:

  • Salaries and wages: $93.4 million
  • Officer & key employee compensation: $5.8 million
  • Pension contributions: $8.6 million
  • Employee benefits: $12.4 million
  • Payroll taxes: $6.2 million


Personnel-related costs exceed $126 million, nearly half of total expenses.

Operational scale provides context:

  • Approximately 1,800 annual performances and events
  • 1.4 million on-site attendees
  • Roughly 50 million reached via broadcast

 

Fundraising expenses totaled about $17.5 million, supporting $182.6 million in contributions.

 

Executive Compensation

Former President Deborah Rutter reported $1.42 million in compensation.

The filing also reports 290 individuals earning more than $100,000, reflecting the staffing scale and technical complexity of the institution.

Why This Matters

The term “deficit” can carry different meanings depending on accounting framework. In public discussion it often implies insolvency, while in nonprofit finance it may refer to projected operating gaps or planned spending exceeding anticipated unrestricted income.

The Form 990 does not confirm or reject such projections. It documents only completed financial activity during a specific fiscal year.

For FY2023, the filing reports:

  • $306.9 million in revenue
  • $266.2 million in expenses
  • A $40.7 million surplus
  • $558.3 million in net assets

Those figures describe past performance, not future projections.

If the Kennedy Center is facing a structural gap approaching $100 million, that gap would likely involve forward-looking budgets, restrictions on funds, capital plans, or internal financial modeling that does not appear in the Form 990 summary itself.

Public narratives and public filings sometimes diverge — not necessarily because one is incorrect, but because they are describing different financial frames.

The Form 990 provides a standardized snapshot of what occurred during a fiscal year.
Deficit claims typically describe what may occur in future years.

Understanding that distinction is essential before drawing conclusions about financial condition.

 Clarifying note: 

How a Nonprofit Can Show a Surplus and Still Claim a Deficit

Form 990 vs. Operating Budget

A nonprofit tax filing and an internal operating budget answer different questions.

Form 990 shows:

  • Completed fiscal-year revenue and expenses
  • Total contributions (including restricted gifts)
  • Assets and liabilities at year end

Operating budgets track:

  • Future spending commitments
  • Cash-flow timing
  • Restricted vs. unrestricted funds
  • Pledged vs. received donations
  • Capital maintenance obligations

Because of this distinction, an organization can report a surplus in its Form 990 while still projecting a significant future shortfall in unrestricted operating funds.

The key issue is not simply whether a number exists — but what financial category that number represents.