One of today’s foremost conductors, Marin Alsop ranks among the most relentlessly impactful and in-demand musicians of our time. Her contributions to the world’s leading orchestras and performing arts organizations are innumerable.

In an interview about her 2025–2026 Carnegie Hall Perspectives series, Alsop reflects on her professional goals and aspirations, and also highlights the importance of American music in advance of the Hall’s United in Sound: America at 250 festival.

How do you view your series as a Perspectives artist?
Marin Alsop: It’s very exciting for me. Being a New Yorker, I have a long history with Carnegie Hall—this has been my go-to place of worship since I was a little kid. I saw Leonard Bernstein conduct at the Hall when I was nine years old, which was my inspiration to become a conductor. Carnegie Hall looms large in my growth as a musician and as a human being, so this feels like coming home and the completion of a circle.

What story would you like to tell through your series?
I think that the message I’d like people to come away with is that music is a vehicle that connects and unites us as human beings. Everyone is born with the ability to make music, and everyone should have the right to access that ability. I believe in equality and equanimity, and that as human beings we should all have the same opportunities. Of course, that’s quite naïve—we don’t. But I think music can really create a more level playing field so that everyone can express themselves. The other thing about music that’s so wonderful—particularly in the divisive times we live in—is that it’s nonpartisan; if someone comes to one of my concerts, they can sit next to another audience member and have completely different perspectives, different opinions, and they’re both valid. And that’s, I think, what I love the most about music.

What aspect of the series is most appealing to you?
I’m really excited about the collaborations with so many different orchestras and artists. That’s a wonderful aspect of having this opportunity is that I’m not just coming to Carnegie Hall to play one concert with one orchestra—I’m coming with several. This gives me the opportunity to create different kinds of sound worlds, different kinds of musical experiences. I’m excited about the program with The Philadelphia Orchestra in March because I get to bring a soloist whom I’ve worked with many, many times—Hayato Sumino—for his concerto debut at the Hall.

On that program, you also feature a suite that you created from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet.
For me, Romeo and Juliet is one of the great scores of all time. The complete ballet score is just so lush and varied, and the narrative is so cinematic. I had the great privilege of recording it with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. And from that experience, I was able to put together a suite that hopefully captures the narrative and the intention of the story, but also brings forth some music that is not as familiar to people. 

You also collaborate with musicians from your alma mater, The Juilliard School.
I obviously have a long history with Juilliard. I started as a seven-year-old violinist at Juilliard Pre-College, and ultimately, it was there that I finished my bachelor’s and my master’s degrees in violin performance. So it’s been a long, long history. They recently awarded me an honorary doctorate degree, and I got to speak at the commencement. I had saved all of my rejection letters from their conducting program, so I read them all during my speech—everyone seemed highly entertained. I was born tough, which is a fortunate thing, but I think I learned early on that you can look at rejection as an opportunity to self-assess and try to find where you can improve. I wasn’t always successful, but I always tried to take every rejection as an opportunity to be better at what I do. I hope that I still live every day like that.

You have always been focused on adding more women’s voices to the field of conducting. Can you share how you are accomplishing that?
My documentary The Conductor is a glimpse into the long road I took to become a conductor and the barriers I had to face as one of very few women in the field. I think it really formed who I am not only as a person, but also as an artist. And it also gave me an appreciation for what I do; it’s such a joy to be able to finally pursue conducting after being told repeatedly, “You can’t do that—you’re not allowed, and nobody will take you seriously.” It also inspired me to create a fellowship for women conductors called the Taki Alsop Conducting Fellowship. Between the awardees and the mentees, we currently have 66 women conductors in our community. I think it’s transformed the way these women can exist as individuals because conducting is very isolated and it can be quite lonely. But when you finally have a community, it changes one’s experience.

How did you become such an advocate of contemporary composers and their music?
A big dimension of my career has been working with living composers. Working with them has been so inspiring for me because you have the capacity and the opportunity to find out the narrative about a particular piece from the person who actually created it. That’s the role of a conductor: to be the messenger of the composer. I spent so many hours trying to imagine what Beethoven would say to me if I could connect with him. But to have access to a living composer is really a privilege. After I was appointed music director of the Cabrillo Festival in California, I think we must have done about 150 premieres during my time there. And through that, I was able to add new composers to my repertoire worldwide and figure out what pieces and which composers work best together. So contemporary music continues to be one of my great loves. I always tell people—especially people who are afraid of contemporary music—that Beethoven was once considered new music as well.

As we look ahead to the United in Sound festival, how would you define “American music”?
Defining American music is not really possible, but I think American music has the qualities that we associate with America. There’s an immediacy. There’s a sense of humor, at least in the America that I grew up in. There’s an informality to it as well. The boundaries are not as rigid. You can cross into different realms without being punished. And I also think it has a richness of cultural diversity that some music just doesn’t have because of our melting-pot history. And I love that aspect of American music. American music really is an amalgam of all of these different cultural influences. Within music, I think there’s a sense of belonging— and I hope we can continue to foster that philosophy.

How does American music reflect this country’s past and its future?
I think all music is a window into the soul of humanity—that’s the amazing part of it. It also can reflect an entire culture. And it can connect us to the past with a sense of immediacy that is really lost in other art forms. I believe that music—particularly American music—is a place where people can feel free. And when we talk about freedom, I think it’s something that is so hard to describe until you don’t have it. As we live in a time when we’re talking a lot about freedom and the values of America—the values upon which this country was founded—I would say that freedom is ultimately the number one issue. And music, for me, is total freedom.

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