Under new Executive and Artistic Director Sebastian Nordmann, the Lucerne Festival is evolving: a chatbot greets visitors to the website, concert series are named in English, and new formats sit alongside a street-music festival and a fan zone. Interview with Florian Riem
In your new role at the Lucerne Festival, how do you bring classical music closer to audiences, and how do you introduce new repertoire?
For me this goes back to my beginnings, to Leonard Bernstein and the Schleswig-Holstein Musik Festival. As a young music lover, I was fascinated by the way Bernstein communicated music – to the orchestra, the audience, the stakeholders. He had an extraordinary gift for explaining what lay behind the music and sharing his enthusiasm. That impulse – to convey one’s love for classical music, rather than defend its position – has always driven me.
That’s what I tried to do at the Konzerthaus Berlin with Iván Fischer and Joana Mallwitz, and it’s what I’m doing in Lucerne. We want to attract people from Lucerne and the region, from Zurich and beyond, and say, “Come here. Something remarkable is happening.” But we also go out into the city to reach those who would never voluntarily step into a concert hall – street stages, open-air events, even a “jukebox” where listeners can request pieces and interact with musicians. These are gateways, and they let people experience how electrifying live music can be.
Bernstein’s ability to communicate was central to his success. Today the classical music landscape has changed enormously and so has the audience. You’ve spoken about wanting to programme not for young audiences specifically, but for all generations at once. Can a single programme really cut across age groups in that way?
The key term in the 1990s was “education” – bringing young people in. That idea has evolved. It’s not only about children; it’s also about the gatekeepers: parents, friends, teachers. Our aim is to persuade them to bring children along to family performances – events like “Mittendrin” with Iván Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra, where the audience sits among the musicians and Fischer conducts in the round, explaining the music as he goes. It’s thrilling whether you’re a lifelong music lover or a child hearing an orchestra for the first time.
When I invite schools to the festival, I don’t want to offer a diluted “children’s concert”. I want them to experience 20 minutes of genuine orchestral music, perhaps a movement from a Shostakovich symphony, in a great hall with a large orchestra. That brief, intense experience can be transformative. Afterwards, when the children are able to speak directly to the musicians, it tends to make more of an impression than any classroom project.
Let’s talk about the digital generation. People, especially young people, are rarely without their phones; one viral clip can make an artist or a performance famous in virtually no time. How do you reconcile traditional concert etiquette with new listening habits?
The question is: does a phone belong in the concert hall? My answer is yes: before and after the concert, and perhaps for the encore, if the artists agree. I would welcome it if musicians allowed encores to be filmed – a generous gesture towards new audiences.
But during the main programme I insist on a different mode of being. I sometimes compare a concert to a massage. You don’t take your phone onto the massage table. A concert asks the same of you – to surrender intellectually and emotionally, to be present without the pull of constant commercial or social stimulus.
Contemporary music adds another dimension. That’s why I brought in Jörg Widmann. He is a kind of Swiss Army knife: conductor, composer, clarinettist and, above all, an outstanding communicator. His passion isn’t didactic; it’s infectious and intellectually grounded. Such personalities are crucial for new music. When Anne-Sophie Mutter, for example, presents contemporary works in her anniversary programme at the festival and explains them from the stage, audiences follow her immediately – they are intrigued as much by her personality as the music itself.
But first we have to get people into the hall. That’s the idea behind our In den Strassen: City Stage initiative: we take the Lucerne Festival Contemporary Orchestra, percussion groups, wind ensembles and the jukebox onto the streets – showcasing our young international musicians who are passionate about contemporary repertoire. You won’t hear Lachenmann on the street, but you might hear music by Steve Reich. We must stop relegating new music to tiny side rooms and instead present it as something open and inviting – like a wellcurated museum.
This year’s programme and visual identity were decided long ago. What will define the “Nordmann era”?
I had almost three years to observe, working alongside Michael Haefliger. People often said, “You’re from Berlin, you’ll bring new formats, but please don’t change anything.” This tension between preservation and development is typical of cultural institutions. You maintain the DNA while creating new points of access.
My first priority is to ensure that Lucerne remains the world’s leading orchestral festival. Within four-and-a-half weeks you should be able to experience the major orchestras and gain a panoramic view of the orchestral world. The KKL is an outstanding concert hall for largescale orchestral music – we must emphasise that.
My second priority is to ensure that our two flagship ensembles – the Lucerne Festival Contemporary Orchestra [LFCO] with its Academy, and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra – remain central to the festival. They embody a unique tradition that I want to nurture.
Third is something drawn directly from my years in Berlin: a strong passion for communicating classical music to new audiences. These are the three pillars, summarised in the claim “Orchestrating the Moment”. For me that means shaping great orchestral events, cultivating our core ensembles and developing outreach formats, so that audiences leave with intense, personal musical moments.
What lessons from your 16 years at the Konzerthaus Berlin will you carry into Lucerne?
In Berlin I led an orchestra as intendant for the first time, and I learned how an orchestra develops – which conductors and soloists fit its character, and how its character can be gently shaped over time. The Konzerthausorchester had a strong tradition rooted in Russian repertoire, shaped by Kurt Sanderling. Iván Fischer broadened that – introducing Wagner, Mahler and Beethoven, and experimenting with new formats. Christoph Eschenbach brought his own perspective, and Joana Mallwitz yet another.
What I also came to understand is that an artistic director should not dictate from above. The task is to enable artists. When you listen carefully to an orchestra and its leaders, ideas emerge organically – and new formats only succeed when the musicians themselves stand behind them. Many programmes are born late at night, after concerts, over a glass of wine, when enthusiasm is high. Those are often the moments when the next season takes shape.
The Konzerthausorchester and Joana Mallwitz are appearing in Lucerne this summer. Is this part of a deliberate generational shift among conductors?
Yes. We will, of course, continue to work with established figures such as Riccardo Chailly, Klaus Mäkelä and Yannick NézetSéguin, whom I greatly admire. But we must also open the stage to other generations. Mallwitz is an important voice. I want a broad spectrum of conductors – from Sir Simon Rattle to emerging talents. It is about variety, not about building a following around one or two names.
Will the Lucerne Festival Orchestra and the LFCO tour again?
Absolutely. Our aim is for the Lucerne Festival Orchestra to tour annually, or at minimum every two years. In September 2026, the LFCO and Jörg Widmann will tour Rihm’s Tutuguri to Munich and Berlin.
Finally, a personal question. You grew up in Kiel and Schleswig-Holstein, studied musicology and modern history, and worked in northern Germany and Berlin. How do you find living in Lucerne?
I’ve been here for about a year, and I find it wonderful. Waking up to snowcapped mountains, the lake, palm trees below, having coffee in the morning sun – it’s inspiring. I love hiking, and I value living where I work. After 16 years in Berlin, the calmer rhythm and the sheer beauty of the place have been a revelation.
At the same time, cultural life is anything but sleepy. Zurich is close by with its opera, orchestra, theatre and museums, while Lucerne has a vibrant art scene of its own. I still go out several evenings a week, and the combination of tranquillity and cultural density suits me perfectly.
You don’t miss Berlin’s frantic pace?
My wife is an artist and keeps her studio in Berlin, so I’m there regularly and can dip back into that energy when I like. But I enjoy Lucerne enormously. The view of the KKL on the lake is breathtaking – comparable, for me, to the Sydney Opera House or Hamburg’s Elbphilharmonie. The old town, the Kapellbrücke, and beside it this modern concert hall on the water are a daily reminder of how special this place is. I live in the city centre, I walk to the KKL, and I can even see it from my window.