David Bernard: The Maestro From the Inside Out
When the European Classical Music Awards announced that Maestro David Bernard had been named Conductor of the Year and Platinum Prize Winner at its Annual Grand Prix 2025, the news reverberated well beyond the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music and the Massapequa Philharmonic at Tilles Center for the Performing Arts. It was, in the parlance of the concert world, a recognition long overdue — and for the musicians who have played under Bernard's baton season after season, it was nothing short of a confirmation of what they have known for years. Bernard is not merely a conductor. He is a teacher, a collaborator, a keeper of the score's innermost secrets, and — in the word one musician reaches for with unambiguous conviction — an artist of uncommon dedication.
This article draws on two sources of testimony: personal interviews with musicians of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and a series of questions posed directly to Bernard himself, whose answers illuminate the philosophy and craft that underlie every downbeat. Together, these voices compose a portrait as complete as any profile of a conductor can be — one shaped equally from the podium and from the chairs that face it.
Before the First Downbeat: The Annotated Score
The first thing to understand about David Bernard's rehearsal process is that it does not begin at the first rehearsal. Weeks before the orchestra assembles, Bernard sends every musician a marked-up score — a detailed annotated blueprint of his interpretive intentions, complete with tempo indications, articulation adjustments, dynamic clarifications, and sometimes even changes to note values.
Asked what he communicates before raising the baton at that first rehearsal, Bernard explained:
"When I internalize works, I develop a clear view of how I'd like the work to 'go' — its nuances, phrasing, pacing, and rhetoric/syntax that is woven through its layers, much of which goes beyond what is actually written in the score. The very first part of the preparation occurs when I share this with the musicians through an annotated score, way before the first rehearsal. At the first rehearsal, we can begin with a common baseline beyond what it would be with "clean parts."" — David Bernard
David Bernard, selected as Conductor of the Year and Platinum Prize Winner, European Classical Music Awards — Annual Grand Prix 2025. Courtesy PACS
Asked specifically what goes into those markings, he elaborated with characteristic precision:
"Changes and clarifications to articulations, dynamics, note values, and sometimes even changes to notes. A phrase may need to end lifted, requiring a quarter note to be changed to an eighth with an eighth rest. Certain figures or lines may need to be played stronger or softer than marked to bring out a certain layering between the parts. Notating these decisions in ways that are clearest to the musicians helps achieve a specific way of playing a passage. It not only saves rehearsal time — it allows us to focus on deeper aspects of the music making." — David Bernard
The musicians attest to how dramatically this shapes the rehearsal cycle from its opening moments. Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo with PACS since the 2023–2024 season, describes the downstream effect:
"This gives us the ability to get into the musical nuances of a piece much more quickly than we would otherwise, because we're already in sync with what he wants. So the music begins to come together as something beyond the notes on the page from almost the first rehearsal." — Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo
John Yakubik, the orchestra’s Principal Cellist for more than twenty years, confirms that this blueprint shapes the ensemble’s preparation from the first stand: "David circulates an annotated score prior to the start of a cycle. He has the principal strings mark up their parts accordingly, so everyone works from his blueprint."
Davis Erin Anderson, French horn with PACS since spring 2023, underscores the practical consequence of this advance work:
“Before a cycle begins, the orchestra receives a marked score with indications for articulations, note length, directionality of a phrase. These things are added to each player’s part, hopefully in advance of the first rehearsal, so that we are not starting from fifty-plus different approaches.”
Gabrielle Miskovitz, a violinist and PACS member since 2005 who has served as both Concertmaster and Principal Second over the years, speaks to the deeper interpretive purpose this serves:
“David has a commitment to his interpretation and understanding of the music, which, without question, has allowed for the unique success of PACS over the decades. He is meticulously detailed with notations during score preparation, which allows us as musicians to understand his musical goals prior to the first rehearsal.” — Gabrielle Miskovitz, Violin
Gabrielle Miskovitz, Violin. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy Gabrielle Miskovitz
Going Deep: The Rehearsal Cycle
One of the first things a new member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony learns about David Bernard is that his strategy within each rehearsal— distinctive, deliberate, and by all accounts enormously effective — goes deep and often starts at the end of a movement and works backward through the score. Bernard frames the logic as a matter of depth over breadth:
"Given the choice between spending the whole rehearsal going deep on one movement of a symphony as opposed to covering all movements — especially during early rehearsals — I will always opt for going deep. When you go deep, the orchestra retains the experience in high resolution and brings it to the next rehearsal. Going deep involves addressing the music-making and execution with care, not in a taskmaster way, but in a "you can do this, no, that wasn't quite it, let's focus this way.” In this approach, achievement follows achievement, building commitment and enthusiasm in the orchestra." — David Bernard
Patrick Sanguineti, in his second season as a PACS trumpeter, offers a vivid metaphor for what this achieves:
"David's approach to a rehearsal cycle evokes learning to read a complex text in a non-native language. He targets fluency and pattern recognition. The process can frustrate at times, but the payoff is a delayed gratification: suddenly, as the cycle nears its end, the granular work David put into those passages reveals a wider grammar and vocabulary that the orchestra now has to put the whole work together — and in a way that feels natural and intuitive." — Patrick Sanguineti, trumpet
Patrick Sanguineti, Trumpet. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy PACS
Alexander Schulmeister, a violinist who has been with PACS almost since its founding — his first concert was the orchestra's second, in early 2001 — identifies the cumulative architecture that Bernard builds:
"David drills into the music starting with the very first rehearsal, stressing ensemble, balance, articulation, and phrasing. David usually starts rehearsing at the end of a movement, working backwards to the beginning. Full movement run-throughs are done towards the end of the cycle; it is at that time that I feel the pieces coming together and becoming music rather than individual sections and passages." — Alexander Schulmeister, violin
Madeleine Carroll, violist with the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and Massapequa Philharmonic Orchestra, found the method transformative from her first encounter with it: "It is a brilliant approach that helps us as musicians better understand the inner workings of the movement and recognize key patterns. I can then apply what he has instructed us to do to the rest of the movement. I learn a lot faster this way."
Madeleine Carroll, Viola. Member of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony and the Massapequa Philharmonic Orchestra. Courtesy Madeleine Carroll
Davis Erin Anderson, French horn with PACS since spring 2023, offers a complementary image of the process: “A typical rehearsal under the baton of Maestro Bernard typically involves a deep dive into a certain section of music — a playthrough followed by hearing from individual sections or groups of sections. It’s sort of like taking a puzzle apart and putting it back together, with added clarity for just how things fit together.” The payoff, Anderson adds, is evident in the final product: “Maestro Bernard makes really good use of rehearsal time, so that when recording sessions or concerts come along, we’ve all had lots of repetition. Because of that, and because of independent practice and sometimes even sectionals that my fellow horn players and I will take upon ourselves, the final result is really clean.”
The Language of the Podium: Clarity as a Discipline
Every musician interviewed for this article used some variation of the word "clarity" to describe Bernard's communication. But clarity, as Bernard practices it, is not merely a manner of speaking. It is a physical and philosophical commitment — an understanding that the conductor's body and voice must become instruments of pure signal, stripped of noise.
On the subject of his famously understated physical presence on the podium — what I have described as "clear, expressive, compelling, and marvelously understated — no dramatic gesticulations or visual melodrama" — Bernard was direct:
"I am hyper-fixated on giving the musicians what they need to achieve, and in conducting, that requires clarity. It is absolutely a "less is more" kind of thing — to have clarity, you must eliminate "noise." I am the "coach" — not a player, so my signals need to be unquestionably useful and usable for the musicians. To do this, you must quiet your body to the point where your motions become more meaningful and important to the players. When you lead this way, you are drawing the musicians to you — in essence drawing out the best performance in the most expressive and demonstrative way." — David Bernard
The musicians recognize and respond to this economy with precision of their own. Brillson describes what it is like to be on the receiving end:
"Maestro Bernard is probably the clearest conductor I've ever worked with. He frequently uses a combination of precise musical description — for example, "the 16th following the dotted eighth needs just as much emphasis and volume as the eighth note" — as well as spoken rhythmic demonstration. He is incredibly efficient at communicating what he wants, and there is rarely any confusion as to what he's aiming for. Additionally, if he feels you still haven't understood his intention, he'll speak with you during the break and ask if there's anything he can do to help you achieve it." — Lindsay Brillson, flute and piccolo
Tay Kwak, a violinist in his fourth season with the Massapequa Philharmonic, identifies something beyond the words themselves: "It is not what Maestro Bernard says. It is how he says it. His communication skills are specific, concise, and they are always reinforced with his conducting, markings on the parts, as well as rehearsal notes afterwards."
William Nealon, the orchestra’s double bassist and a twenty-five-year PACS veteran, notes a particular and unusual technique: "He sings often, and he makes us sing our parts often. He does use a lot of metaphors — for example, he often says the beginning of a note should sound like a bell." Schulmeister echoes this with something approaching wonder: "I have never played for a conductor who had the section sing their parts before."
Anderson catalogues the sheer range of Bernard’s rehearsal techniques with an inventory that suggests a conductor of inexhaustible pedagogical resourcefulness: “Rehearsal techniques range from asking strings to play without their bows so as to dial in pitch and rhythm, singing individual lines so as to communicate rhythm or overall style, asking winds and brass to play a passage note by note so we can hear how our individual pitches fit into a chord, and lots of other ways that are so seamless I’m not even sure I can recall each one.”
John Yakubik, Principal Cellist, adds:
"He is a stickler for rhythm and articulation. He will have the orchestra say it a few times and then have us play it. There’s also a lot of singing to demonstrate the phrasing he would like." What accompanies all of this is an atmosphere of consistent patience. Carroll captures it memorably: "He is a teacher, coach, collaborator, and friend. He approaches his instruction with kindness, encouragement, patience, humor, and a solid commitment to achieving his goals. He has a steady and positive temperament that allows me to make mistakes without being too hard on myself, so I can learn quickly from them and improve."
John Yakubik, Principal Cello, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Courtesy John Yakubik
Anderson reaches for a single word that encompasses it all: “I’d say Maestro Bernard is a coach more than anything else. My sense is that he fundamentally believes in the capabilities of each player, otherwise we wouldn’t be there. I think he sees his role as one in which he works with us to bring out the best in each of us.” The effect of that coaching, Anderson adds, is cumulative and deeply personal: “Being part of the PACS project has taught me a lot about developing a style to suit the group I’m playing with. The way in which I approach articulation or the length of notes is quite nuanced now, thanks to the way in which Maestro Bernard specifically approaches the pieces we play.” Miskovitz confirms that this communication extends well beyond the verbal, noting that over the course of rehearsals, Bernard “communicates these nuances through repetition of rehearsal as well as shaping gestures in the moment.”
Conducting from Memory: The Necessity of Eyes
Among the disciplines that distinguish Bernard's work on the podium, none is more demanding — or more consequential in performance — than his practice of conducting the major repertoire entirely from memory. Mahler's Ninth. Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. Beethoven cycles. The score is never on the stand.
Asked what this discipline gives him in rehearsal and performance that a score on the stand could not provide, Bernard answered with characteristic economy:
"Yes — I conduct most concerts from memory. The most important benefit is that your body and eyes are free to fully engage with the musicians. When you look down at the score, you break that engagement, and the performance's overall energy suffers. The connection between musicians and the conductor is made and maintained through the eyes. I believe it is a necessity. My goal in preparation is to internalize the score, which not only results in the high-resolution view discussed earlier, but also results in memorization." — David Bernard
Kwak, reflecting on what this means from the musicians' vantage point, speaks to the sheer depth of knowledge it implies: "Maestro Bernard's understanding of each of the pieces is unparalleled, and his passion and work ethic are second to none. He conducts entirely from memory, and his knowledge of classical music is quite intimidating in the most admirable way. All of the training, knowledge, passion, and dedication just come out through his energy — and we just can't help but be sucked into his vortex."
Stripping Tradition: The Score on Its Own Terms
In a previous review of the PACS Mahler Ninth recording, I wrote that it achieves "that most elusive of musical goals: making a well-known work sound freshly minted, as if the ink on Mahler's manuscript had barely dried." That freshness does not arrive by accident. It is the result of a conductor who approaches a score by asking not what tradition demands, but what the music itself requires.
Asked directly how he strips away accumulated interpretive habit to help his musicians hear a familiar score with new ears, Bernard offered his fullest statement of artistic philosophy:
"When I approach a score, I tend to strive to highlight and release the natural flow and line inside the music — it is something of an obsession of mine. This can involve, to some degree, countering traditions of rubato to eliminate headwinds and obstacles to the flow and line that I see as embedded in the music. Mahler's Ninth is a work that carries quite a bit of performance tradition, some of which I stripped away to achieve what I felt was driven by the music itself. The most drastic overall change in character is the opening of the First Movement, which is often played through the lens of tugging at heartstrings in anguish. To me, the music's line demanded a youthful flow — looking back to Mahler's childhood, strolling through the countryside. This fit the music like a glove — a unique and refreshing result." — David Bernard
He went on to describe how the orchestra internalized that transformation in rehearsal:
"In rehearsal, the orchestra adapted beautifully — shifting from drawing espressivo from each note (a more vertical approach) to seeing the flow and line (a more horizontal approach). It is helpful to point out the contrapuntal dimension of this music — to listen to the outer voices and how they support each other. As we continued, the string players managed their sound and vibrato to support the line, and the new sound emerged. This particular transformation was memorable for me." — David Bernard
Jenn Forese, a flutist with both PACS and the Massapequa Philharmonic who wrote her graduate thesis on Mahler, was uniquely positioned to recognize what Bernard was doing — and uniquely grateful for it:
"When we were working on Mahler 9, I really enjoyed the extra highlighting of particular phrases and moments that could have been overlooked. As someone who has studied Mahler intensely in graduate school and wrote my thesis focusing on Mahler, I truly appreciated the highlighting of moments that I already knew were often overlooked. It brought more justice to our performance of Mahler's music." — Jenn Forese, flute — PACS and MPO
