In November this year, under the baton of guest conductor Maziar Younesi, the Tehran Symphony Orchestra presented a diverse program at Vahdat Hall. The first half of the concert featured The Persian March by Johann Strauss, followed by Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony.

The second half began with The Reward of Silence by Peyman Yazdanian—a piece not mentioned in the official program, seemingly added at the last moment. This was followed by selections from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake (movements I, II, and IV).

Next came Jacques Offenbach’s Barcarolle, and finally, the concert concluded with Dance Celebration (Paykoobi) by Hossein Alizadeh, arranged by Maziar Younesi.

The concert opened with Younesi’s entrance onto the stage. He greeted the audience and expressed his delight at conducting the Tehran Symphony Orchestra. He introduced the works to be performed, offering brief commentary on each piece’s backstory and characteristics from the composers’ perspectives. After these remarks, he quietly turned to face the orchestra, made eye contact with the musicians, and signaled the start of the first piece.

From the very beginning, with Strauss’s Persian March, rhythmic inconsistencies were evident, and the orchestra lacked cohesion. Despite the enthusiasm and energy of the players, the performance lacked the fluidity and synchronization such a short piece demands. Immediately afterward, Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony began, but the coordination issues became even more pronounced.

Throughout the symphony, various sections of the orchestra frequently lagged behind or rushed ahead of one another, and at times, the discrepancies were so severe that the integrity of the piece’s structure was jeopardized. This was especially noticeable in fast tempos and rapid passages, where the strings struggled to maintain rhythm and align with the rest of the ensemble. Slips in the high violin registers also affected the overall quality at times.

As the symphony progressed, rhythmic disarray became too significant to ignore, clearly impacting the orchestra’s focus and unity that evening.

Younesi, as always, conducted with a grandiose and heroic flair. His movements, full of passion and energy, aimed to transmit emotion to the orchestra and the audience. However, such a conducting style only succeeds when the orchestra can match it with tight precision—so that listeners feel the energy through sound alone. Unfortunately, the rhythmic and coordination flaws prevented that emotional impact. In reality, the only element evoking passion on stage was Younesi’s dramatic gestures, which were visually compelling. If a listener had closed their eyes, it’s doubtful they would have felt the same excitement, as the auditory experience alone lacked cohesion.

Overall, the rhythmic instability and moments of intonation issues marred the performance, preventing a truly pleasant experience for the audience. Precision and unity—essential elements for creating impactful orchestral music—were not adequately realized. The resulting disjointedness prevented the audience from fully immersing themselves in the music.

These issues were especially glaring in passages requiring tight ensemble playing during fast, complex transitions. Instead of creating a sense of depth and unity, intonation lapses and rhythmic discord gave the performance a fragmented and uneven character, diminishing its overall effect.

In the second movement of the Italian Symphony, dynamic balances were poorly managed, and the sound equilibrium between the woodwinds and strings was off. Managing dynamics and balance is a core responsibility of the conductor during rehearsals, and its absence negatively affected the impact of the piece.

Another issue with Younesi’s leadership was the delayed cues he gave the musicians. At times, players began playing before receiving his signal, with Younesi catching up slightly late to indicate character or phrasing. This weakened the conductor’s role, as the conductor is meant to decisively guide the orchestra—not follow it unconsciously.

In the fourth movement of the symphony, which is lively and fast-paced, rhythmic imbalances were even more evident. Players often had trouble syncing with one another, seemingly losing and then regaining connection mid-performance. That said, in louder dynamics and more spirited moments, the orchestra fared somewhat better, showing a degree of improved cohesion.

Younesi’s stage presence resembles that of bandleaders or pop orchestra conductors; he seems deliberately intent on breaking from classical norms and possibly wishes to be recognized for this departure. His sense of humor also stands out.

For instance, at the end of the first half, after fully exiting the stage, he playfully peeked his head out from the wings like a game of hide-and-seek and gestured to the audience to applaud the musicians. This move drew laughter and applause, creating a casual atmosphere rarely seen in formal classical concerts.

This raises the question: Should such behaviors be viewed as creativity and innovation in conducting style—or as poor taste in the context of classical music? Some might interpret this relaxed, flexible approach as an attempt to bring classical music closer to audiences and reduce its excessive formality—especially for those less familiar with its traditions.

On the other hand, some may see it as a deviation from the dignity and discipline of classical music, potentially eroding the artistic and professional values of performance over time.

The second half resumed with The Reward of Silence by Peyman Yazdanian. Before the piece began, Younesi briefly noted that the work was dedicated to the martyrs of the Iranian military. It opened with a gentle woodwind theme, followed by very soft string passages. The work’s pleasant harmonies and sweetness effectively conveyed a sense of calm and reflection.

Unlike other parts of the concert, the orchestra faced no particular challenge performing this piece and delivered a clean, well-coordinated performance. Although this piece was less complex than others on the program, the smooth execution and dynamic sensitivity made it one of the concert’s highlights, offering a rare moment of calm and unity.

After The Reward of Silence, Younesi turned to the audience again and said with a smile and a friendly tone, “I know I talk a lot—I don’t want this concert to turn into a comedy show.” He then introduced the next three pieces. However, he frequently stumbled over words and struggled to find the right expressions, revealing clear signs of nervousness.

This lack of fluency, while occasionally endearing, also disrupted the concert’s flow and distracted the audience’s attention.

Following this, selections from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake were performed. In the climactic passages, rhythmic mismatches between players were evident, and balance issues between brass and woodwinds were noticeable—at times, the brass were overwhelmingly loud. Reducing the brass volume could have created a better balance across sections.

In the second part, the violin soloist rushed ahead slightly in fast passages and had a somewhat dull tone in softer dynamics. Nonetheless, the performance was overall refreshing and charming, bringing sweet moments for the audience.

Later in the concert, an orchestral arrangement of a segment from Offenbach’s Barcarolle, from the opera The Tales of Hoffmann, was performed without vocals. After this performance, Younesi once again addressed the audience, noting that since the next piece would transition from the Western tonal musical space to an Eastern modal atmosphere, “I need to talk a bit so it washes and takes away.” This phrase, however, was ambiguous, and it wasn’t clear exactly what he meant by “wash and take away.”

Younesi then provided some context for the final piece of the concert, a work by Alizadeh. He explained that it was based on an improvisation derived from an album, though he couldn’t recall the year the album was released. He made several guesses, until an audience member finally provided the correct date. Younesi also mentioned that the piece had been recorded in collaboration with another artist, but he struggled to remember the collaborator’s name, offering several possibilities. Finally, with a humorous tone and self-criticism, he said: “I wish I had read the notes a few more times before the performance.” Once again, an audience member stepped in to help and corrected the information.

Younesi concluded his remarks by emphasizing the importance of paying greater attention to Iran’s classical and dastgāhi music, and he urged the audience to value, preserve, and promote this cultural heritage.

However, Younesi’s apparent inability to communicate effectively with the audience seemed somewhat inappropriate and detracted from the stature and class expected of an orchestral concert. In such concerts, spontaneous and informal remarks are not typically customary. When such commentary is offered, it is usually in the context of a specific theme or occasion. The level of speech and the repeated verbal slips disrupted the formal flow of the concert and pulled it away from the seriousness and cohesion typically expected of a classical performance.

During the final piece, which featured a relatively modern arrangement, there was an effort to play phrases and themes with deliberate time gaps between the instruments, creating a complex musical texture. The aim appeared to be to evoke a sense of confusion and ambiguity for the listener. However, the lack of coordination among the different sections of the orchestra was clearly noticeable. Overall, these rhythmic issues and inconsistencies seemed to be an inseparable part of that night’s performance by the Tehran Symphony Orchestra and were largely due to shortcomings in conducting.

It was also evident that the quality of the orchestra’s sound had noticeably declined compared to performances from just a few months prior, featuring the same group of musicians. It is hard to imagine that the players themselves had collectively regressed in such a short time. This clearly indicates that the problem lay in the leadership and conducting of the concert, with weak direction preventing a coherent and high-quality performance.

Given the orchestra’s performance level, a question arises in the minds of music lovers and cultural observers—especially those who follow the Tehran Symphony Orchestra: how has an orchestra with such a brilliant history, filled with the nation’s top musicians and once conducted by figures like the Croatian Edou Mičić, Matthias Sebastian Krüger, and even the legendary Riccardo Muti, now come to a point where its conductors struggle with the very basics of orchestral leadership—standards far below the level and stature of this ensemble? Meanwhile, the orchestra’s management situation is shrouded in uncertainty. In recent months, there has been no sign of Manouchehr Sahbaei, who was the orchestra’s artistic director and permanent conductor. As a result, the orchestra has been functioning without a permanent conductor or ongoing artistic management. In such conditions, the presence of guest conductors only makes sense when there is already a permanent conductor in place. The Tehran Symphony Orchestra holds a position akin to the country’s national football team, yet in recent months it has resembled a team left without a head coach—where for each performance, someone is temporarily brought in to lead rehearsals and direct the program without any official explanation from the authorities about the situation.

This management instability and absence of a permanent conductor have led to numerous challenges for the Tehran Symphony Orchestra. Despite these issues, the musicians continue to do their best in the absence of sustained leadership, striving to keep this musical institution alive and contribute to the preservation of the country’s musical heritage.

Another noteworthy point in the orchestra’s uncertain situation was the absence of the concertmaster in the previous performance. In that concert, Pedram Faryousefi appeared in place of Mohammadreza Karimi as concertmaster, whereas in this latest concert, Mohammadreza Karimi had returned to his position. This situation is akin to a national football team suddenly appointing someone not on the official roster as team captain for a match without any trials or selection process, and then silently dropping him with no explanation. This seemingly laughable example reflects the current reality of the Tehran Symphony Orchestra—an institution where no clarifications or statements are given by officials about such changes.

This approach to running the Tehran Symphony Orchestra does not contribute to the development of this important cultural entity. On the contrary, it is quickly eroding the stature and grandeur of an ensemble that stands as a symbol of this country’s musical and cultural identity. If the authorities do not act swiftly and implement the necessary changes, the future of the orchestra and the hopes of the country’s talented youth and artists will be endangered. Such negligence could create a significant obstacle in the path of the national music’s growth and excellence, pushing aside gifted individuals who need a dynamic and organized framework. This oversight will harm not only today’s cultural scene but also the cultural future of the nation.

We hope that with the right changes and measures, this trend can be corrected, and the Tehran Symphony Orchestra can once again reclaim its rightful place. We hope the officials and decision-makers will pay closer attention to this valuable institution and create the conditions necessary for a brighter future for Iranian music and its artists, so that this great cultural symbol may return to its path of progress and excellence.