THOUGH the chemistry of any happy relationship is hard to define, there are tangible elements behind the success of the diminutive Chinese conductor Xian Zhang at the New York Philharmonic and elsewhere. Her incisive gestures elicit vivid performances from musicians who have seen it all, and her passionate musicality reflects the boundless energy that has propelled her improbable journey from a small town in China to the Philharmonic, where, as associate conductor, she is a rising star.
Xian Zhang (pronounced she-YEN jhong), who recently returned from Germany, where she had become the first woman to conduct the Staatskapelle Dresden in its main hall, said in an interview that jet lag takes its toll now that she is getting old. But at 34 she is still a fresh face on the podium, and with an extensive lineup of concerts ahead, more jet lag awaits.
On Sunday afternoon Ms. Zhang conducts the Orchestra of St. Luke’s in her professional debut at Carnegie Hall, where she conducted the same orchestra in the Maazel/Vilar Conductors’ Competition in 2002, in which she shared first prize. That success led to her debut with the Philharmonic, conducting a Young People’s Concert in 2004, and Lorin Maazel, the orchestra’s music director, appointed her associate conductor soon after.
The antithesis of a stern, towering maestro, Ms. Zhang is personable and down to earth, saying that in her somber suits she could be mistaken for an usher. But her easygoing manner masks the fierce discipline of a woman raised on a strict diet of marathon practice sessions. Even her name reflects her chosen career: Xian Zhang translates as “open string.”
As a child in Dandong, China (near the North Korean border), Ms. Zhang, whose father, Yubin, worked in an instrument factory and later owned his own music shop, never dreamed of becoming a conductor. She began piano lessons around the age of 3 with her mother, Hui Wang, whose own training had been interrupted by the Cultural Revolution; by the time she was in first grade Ms. Zhang was practicing six to eight hours a day. At 11 she attended the precollege boarding school at the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing, where she later received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees.
But her pianistic hopes were derailed when her teacher at the conservatory — “a very tall, big man,” she said — told her that her hands were too small. She began studying conducting with Wu Lingfen, a woman whose teacher had also been female. Being a female conductor was never an issue in China, Ms. Zhang said, perhaps in part because under Communism, all women worked.
Her conducting debut arrived unexpectedly. She had been preparing singers at the piano for Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro,” which Ms. Wu was to conduct at the Central Opera House in Beijing. But the night before a major rehearsal, Ms. Wu, who saw potential in Ms. Zhang, told her to conduct it instead. Ms. Zhang, then 20, panicked.
“I was very, very nervous,” she said, adding that the seasoned musicians of the orchestra laughed when she took the podium to rehearse. “They couldn’t imagine what this skinny kid was doing up there.”
But the rehearsal went so well that Ms. Zhang was invited to conduct a run of performances. She has since come to command respect on the podium quickly. Daire FitzGerald, a cellist with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, said that when Ms. Zhang first worked with the orchestra in the Maazel/Vilar competition, the musicians were immediately impressed by her confidence, efficiency, poise and good-natured patience.
Ms. Zhang, who is just over 5 feet tall, “is so grand in stature you are transfixed by her,” Ms. FitzGerald said, but lacks the nervous arrogance of some young conductors, who “try to project that they’re the boss.”
Ms. Zhang’s assured conducting, with its taut, elegant gestures, similarly impresses Glenn Dicterow, the concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic and a judge of the 2002 competition. Ms. Zhang, he said, “really feels the music and is able to transmit that love of the music to us.”
The dynamic chemistry between Ms. Zhang and the Philharmonic has been apparent since her subscription debut in 2005. A slender woman with a boyish haircut who favors dark pantsuits, Ms. Zhang flashed a smile at the audience before springing to the podium to lead the premiere of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s rambunctious and complicated “Scherzoid,” an electric performance. Then she elicited beautiful phrasing and shimmering colors in Britten’s dreamy “Four Sea Interludes.”
Ms. Zhang credits the confidence and skill noted by musicians and critics alike to her training at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music, where she began studying in 1998 and soon became the college’s youngest faculty member ever. The transition from Beijing was hard. She hadn’t traveled much outside China, and she spoke little English. But her husband, Lei Yang, an engineer turned novelist, who had moved with her, encouraged her, and the chance to conduct the student orchestra regularly was invaluable.
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