What can music narrate about a city’s memories? On the occasion of the Athens State Orchestra’s concert “Images of Rome”, conductor Ioannis Poulakis speaks about Ottorino Respighi’s Pines of Rome, Nino Rota’s rare double bass Divertimento, and Giuseppe Martucci’s symphonic thought, explaining how the evening’s program illuminates fascinating musical perspectives of the eternal city.
When, as a young music lover, I first encountered Pines of Rome, I believe I was not the only one impressed by the fact that while countless symphonic poems are inspired by people, places, events, or animals, for Respighi, the source of inspiration is something seemingly static: pine trees.
This paradox intrigues you, me, and many others. In reality, however, Respighi does not simply describe the pine trees, but transforms them into witnesses of history passing before them through the centuries. They themselves may not move, but the world around them moves incessantly. And essentially, this work is not merely a depiction of nature and landscapes, but a depiction of the memory they carry.
One of the reasons for the work’s charm and timeless success is its astonishing orchestration, which presupposes a deep knowledge of the orchestra’s timbres. What is our experience in Greece regarding this parameter of musical interpretation?
Respighi’s orchestration demands not only intensity but primarily restraint. Greek orchestras possess strong musicality and impulse; the challenge here is moderation: when not to play, when to let the sound linger, when to trust silence. When this balance is found, the result acquires a rare transparency. And then the orchestra’s power is evident precisely because it doesn’t need to be proven through any affectation or exaggeration.
You yourself are based abroad and work mainly there. How does your experience differ when working in Austria compared to Greece, and also from orchestra to orchestra? Where do you identify the biggest differences?
Every country, every ensemble is a new “challenge” for the musician – the conductor, the soloist, the orchestral musician. And undoubtedly, every orchestra is, to some extent, a mirror of the temperament of its people. In Austria, one often encounters a deeply internalized tradition, a symphonic sound that seems self-evident. In Greece, there is greater flexibility, a willingness for immediate adaptation. Ultimately, in practice, these differences prove to be less significant than we might think. Quality is evident in how quickly an orchestra listens and responds — that’s where everyone meets.
In Nino Divertimento Rota’s, there is one of the rare examples of a double bass solo. How does it function as a solo instrument against a large orchestra, given that it is an instrument that usually has an accompanying role and, moreover, in a very low register?
Undoubtedly, the double bass is an instrument which, especially as a solo instrument, radically changes the perception and the center of gravity of the orchestra: in this particular work, from being its cornerstone, it becomes a conversational partner in an intelligent dialogue. At the same time, a different form of virtuosity emerges — more human, more internal, asking the listener to draw closer rather than admire from a distance. Rota perceives these nuances with subtlety: the solo does not dominate, it converses; and in this way, the composer transports us to his contemporary image of Rome. It is a great pleasure for me that, together with the Athens State Orchestra, on this journey through time, we will have Nikos Tsoukalas, soloist and Principal of the ASO, as our ideal companion.
In this particular work, does the composer draw elements from the music he wrote for cinema, or does he adopt a different musical language?
It seems Rota seeks a return to the light grace of the classical period, with a genre whose very name aims to “entertain.” However, this reinterpretation passes through the prism of contemporary experience – something not unknown to a composer who was called upon to musically clothe great historical films, such as Luchino Visconti’s The Leopard. One recognizes Rota’s instinct for timing and character – that is, to write “period” music, but in the Divertimento, theatrical thought and a subtle ironic distance prevail. It is music with structure and precision, which chooses when to hint at a cinematic image and when to avoid it, leaving the listener to fill in the gaps. Nevertheless, the composer reserves a highly cinematic “intermezzo” for us, the “aria” of the 3rd movement, an unequivocal tribute to the works that made him world-famous.
Your program also includes works by Martucci, an Italian symphonist whom successive generations of conductors have tried to establish without much success. Why do you think this good composer has not yet become popular, and what do you consider his main virtues?
Martucci wrote in an Italy where opera reigned almost supreme. His choice to devote himself to symphonic, “absolute” music was never easy. His writing does not seek immediate impressiveness; it relies on structure, balance, and duration. It is music that does not demand attention — it earns it over time.
Since you are also an opera conductor, if you had the opportunity to add an aria from an Italian opera to this program, which one would fit as a finale?
The term “opera conductor” is particularly honorable, and I understand it! Opera remains for me a space of absolute musical truth. There you learn to listen to breath, speech, time. On the other hand, I don’t see it as a form of differentiation. Conducting — whether in opera or the symphonic repertoire — concerns the same basic act: to give music space to speak. As for adding an aria, perhaps I would prefer something internal, not extroverted; but perhaps it is not needed after all. The program itself contains an “aria” which sings in its own distinct way, and the final pages of Respighi have a vocal grandeur that needs no words.
Overall, you present an Italian program covering three different generations of composers. Do you perceive it more through their common characteristics or through their differences?
I believe that “Images of Rome” unites three composers through their different perspectives on the Eternal City: Martucci, the symphonist and champion of absolute music, represents the structure and foundation of symphonic thought. Rota brings the contemporary, human dimension of the city — dialogue, irony, everyday life. Respighi transforms Rome into image and memory. It is not a juxtaposition, but three different distances from the same idea, each illuminating the other.
Biography
Born in Athens in 1992. A regular collaborator of the Athens State Orchestra since 2023, where he made his debut at the concert for World Music Day. Since 2024, he has been part of the Bühne Baden team in Baden bei Wien, Austria, as a conductor and pianist, having conducted a plethora of musical theater productions (most recently Franz Lehár’s Giuditta), as well as symphonic repertoire. In Greece, he has also collaborated with, among others, the Greek National Opera, the ERT National Symphony Orchestra, the Athens Municipality Symphony Orchestra, and the Philharmonia Orchestra of Athens, while abroad he has conducted in Austria, Czech Republic, Italy, Hungary, Bulgaria, and Romania. He won 2nd prize at the “Borislav Ivanov” International Conducting Competition in 2023 in Varna, Bulgaria, with the participation of soloists and the Varna State Opera Orchestra.
He studied piano, violin, advanced theory, and composition at the Athens Music Society. He subsequently graduated from the Department of Music Studies of the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, specializing in Historical and Systematic Musicology, ultimately completing his studies with Honors and a First Prize in Conducting.
Beyond the podium, he has appeared as a piano soloist in numerous recitals with a wide repertoire, while also collaborating as an accompanying pianist with internationally renowned vocalists and soloists in Greece and abroad.
