The Cliburn changes key

For more than six decades the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition has helped launch some of classical music’s most compelling artists. Now the organisation is entering a new phase. As the Cliburn retires its amateur competition, moves its junior event to Dallas and prepares to launch a major international conducting competition in Houston, President and CEO Jacques Marquis explains the strategy behind the shift and the philosophy that continues to shape the Cliburn’s distinctive approach to launching young careers. Interview by Florian Riem

The Cliburn has undergone major changes recently: retiring the amateur competition, moving the junior event to Dallas and now creating a conducting competition in Houston. What’s driving this reshaping?

It begins with a simple question: what is the purpose of each competition, and is it still needed? The amateur competition was groundbreaking 25 years ago. It gave serious amateurs a proper stage and helped spark a movement. Today amateur festivals and competitions exist everywhere: Paris, Boston, Cleveland. The landscape has changed. When we examined our own event, we realised it had fulfilled its purpose. At that point you either keep it for sentimental reasons or make space for other projects.

You also need to understand what the Cliburn is. We’re not an orchestra tied to one city or an opera house bound to a single venue. The Cliburn is international by nature, and that gives us the freedom to rethink our portfolio and to examine where we can have the most artistic and structural impact.

What led you to move the junior competition to Dallas?

Because it was the clearest way to grow the ecosystem without cannibalising it. Dallas is only 30 miles from Fort Worth, but it’s a different market and community. Locating the Cliburn International Young Pianists Competition in Dallas made sense: we have found a new audience, new institutions and new donors since we moved it there in 2019, while remaining within the same region.

We built partnerships with the Dallas Symphony and Southern Methodist University, which achieved three things at once: it strengthened our brand in a major metropolitan area; it diversified fundraising (critical because roughly 99 per cent of our budget comes from private sources); and it created a flow of support back to Fort Worth. Dallas donors now support the main competition and our concert series, and Dallas businesses have become long-term partners.

This was never about “leaving” Fort Worth; it was about adding Dallas in order to make Fort Worth stronger.

You’re applying the same logic with a new conducting competition in Houston. Why conductors, and why Houston?

There’s a clear gap. There are many piano competitions, but no major international conducting competition in the United States. Conductors are crucial for pianists because they decide which soloists play which concertos. The Cliburn has always supported young pianists, and Marin Alsop, who will chair the jury of the new competition, has always supported young conductors, so connecting those worlds felt natural. I began by asking: which orchestra? Using the Fort Worth Symphony risked overstretching local resources, so I looked to new markets.

Houston came together almost by itself. The Houston Symphony is strong, and Rice University offers a serious conducting programme with a high-level student orchestra. Miguel Harth Bedoya, who runs the programme, is someone we know well from Fort Worth. Gary Ginstling, CEO of the Houston Symphony, has run major orchestras and understands the business, and he’s a genuinely good partner. He told me, “Jacques, if you come here, I’ll help you get there.” That’s precisely the kind of partnership we need.

Houston benefits from what we bring – global webcasts, international media attention and potentially a documentary series – and we benefit from their artistic quality and reputation, financial support, production resources and technical infrastructure. It’s a true partnership. Houston is an enormous, wealthy, dynamic city and a major arts hub. If the Cliburn wants to be healthy 25 years from now, these are the alliances we need to build.

How will the conducting competition be structured?

It will take place within one year. Most conducting competitions take place over two years, but I prefer a tighter timeline. In February 2028 we will hold live screenings in Houston with the Rice University orchestra and invite up to 25 candidates for that phase. It’s essential to see them in front of musicians, not just on video. Then, in June 2028, 12 conductors will compete in the main event with the Houston Symphony over three rounds – we are finalising the exact repertoire now.

The most difficult part is the jury. Good conductors are booked years in advance, so securing them for two weeks is a real challenge. I want a mix of established conductors and concertmasters. Concertmasters see conductors from the inside; they know what works in rehearsal.

Regarding prizes, I’m less interested in residencies. Young conductors dislike them; they feel trapped. What they want are engagements with different orchestras and more international opportunities. That’s what the Cliburn has always done for pianists, and we’ll do the same for conductors: prize money, yes, but more importantly real engagements and worldwide exposure through our webcast and recordings.

Preselection is where many good candidates are lost. How will you “catch the big fish” with conductors, where sound is less obvious than with pianists?

The principle is the same as for piano: we build a serious screening structure and create a process that minimises mistakes. For the Cliburn Piano Competition we might receive 300 applications. I use the “one-third rule”: roughly a third are clearly strong, a third are clearly not at the level, and the middle third is subjective. You must manage that middle carefully.

We don’t jump from 300 to 50. We go from 300 to about 150, then to 75, then to 50. At each step we keep not only the obvious strongest but also a “maybe” group where someone thinks, “There is something interesting here, let’s not lose this candidate.”

We used to have three people listen to all 300; Michel Béroff once called and said, “Are you out of your mind?” He was right. Now we use about 15 jurors divided into small independent committees. They’re not choosing a winner; they’re eliminating those who clearly do not belong.

For the conducting competition we’ll do the same, but with people who work in the conducting world: concertmasters, established conductors, and perhaps highly regarded young conductors for the earliest stages. I’m not a conducting specialist; my job is to create a process that gives the right people every chance to advance to the live rounds.

You often use the term “DNA”. How would you define the Cliburn’s DNA?

It’s simple: the Cliburn launches careers. We’re not here to crown an abstract “best pianist” based on a Platonic ideal of correctness. We look for an artist who can step onto stages around the world quickly and build a sustainable career. That means three things. First, they must play at a very high level across a substantial repertoire. Second, they must be able to handle the realities of touring: changing halls, different orchestras, pressure, fatigue. Third, they must connect with audiences enough to sell tickets. If you ignore any of those three, you are not serving the artist.

When I ran the Montreal competition, I favoured younger competitors. If a 28-year-old and a 19-year-old were at similar levels, I chose the 19-year-old. We were a stepping stone, not a final coronation. That wasn’t written anywhere, but it was central to our decisions. You must know what you are: a launchpad, a refinement school or launching professional careers the next day like the Cliburn.

The Cliburn’s jury system uses a simple yes/no vote and bans jury discussion.
Why do you think that’s fairer than points or rankings?

Because it forces commitment and removes a lot of the politics from the process. I’ve tried every system: point scores, average rankings, complex models. On paper they look clever, but in practice they invite gamesmanship: “If I give this one 25 instead of 24, it pushes my favourite ahead.”

The yes/no system is brutal and honest. After each performance every juror answers one question:
 “Do I want to hear this pianist again?” Yes or no. No talking, no adjustments, no alliances. It’s closer to real life.
A critic writes a review and can’t go back two days later because a friend convinced them they were wrong. Jurors must commit.

The analogy that I use a lot is if we were combining different kinds of really good wines, the “blend” result may not be as good… I want nine independent viewpoints and then to see where they converge.

We don’t publish detailed vote breakdowns. I’m not feeding conspiracy theories; I’m trying to find artists. Interestingly, jurors often come to appreciate the system. Someone like Anne Marie McDermott, who is used to intense musical dialogue, instinctively wants to talk things through. I tell her, “Talk to me, but not to the others.” On a jury of nine, I’ll probably lose two people who cannot stand the lack of discussion. That’s fine – they know the rules in advance.

If your process is so clear, you also need a clear artistic goal. What kind of artist are you looking for?

An artist who can walk on stage next week and play, and who is compelling enough that you want to hear them again the week after. “Ready” is non-negotiable: repertoire, technique, stamina, professionalism. We overload them a bit at the Cliburn because that’s closer to real life. If they think our schedule is tough, they should try a winter tour with snowstorms and delayed flights. Part of our job is to test that.

“Interesting” is harder to define, but it always involves risk. A supremely talented pianist who never takes risks won’t push classical music forward. Perfection without risk quickly becomes boring. Take Aristo Sham – I call him my “accountant pianist” because he’s consistently so precise – yet he plays on the edge in a way that creates tension. From the first bars of his middle Beethoven sonata you wonder, “Is he really going to hold this line?” and he does. That tension and risk is what I mean.

I don’t tell jurors to choose a style. I ask: would you buy a ticket to hear this person again? Does this pianist make you curious? Does the music speak beyond the notes?

You’ve named Sa Chen, the 2005 Cliburn Third Prize winner (Crystal Award), as chair of the next young pianists jury. Why did you invite her?

Sa Chen was on my radar for a long time but always busy when I asked her. I like to invite new jurors to the Cliburn and one of the best occasions to do that is for the young pianists competition. I like to see how a jury member engages with young pianists and how he or she interacts with other jury members. We also suggested that she invite colleagues she enjoys working with. 

This is ideal for us as it expands our pool of new jurors and helps us identify candidates for the professional competition jury – two birds with one stone. She invited Sasha Korsantia and Steven Osborne to join a high-level group of jurors. I am really pleased with this group, and the young pianists will be delighted to play in front of such a strong jury. 

Again, this is about coherence. Define your DNA, build processes that reflect it, and invite artists, jurors and partners who fit that DNA. If we keep doing that, the Cliburn will not only survive – it will remain meaningful.