Chicago's Ravinia Festival had not had such prestige and excitement since Seiji Ozawa stepped down as music director in 1968. Part of last week's furor was over Soprano Beverly Sills, unfurling the druidical delights of Bellini's Norma. But even more of it was over the short, pudgy, bespectacled white man with a modified Afro who ambled out to the podium and called the Chicago Symphony to work with a mighty sweep of his left fist.
He gently signaled a lyrical passage with a crook of the finger and a nod of the head. A...
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