Los Angeles

Zubin Mehta's picture does not appear in dictionaries next to the word "cosmopolitan." But perhaps it should. Few people better embody worldliness than this Bombay-born, Vienna-trained conductor, who has enjoyed long-term associations with many leading orchestras and opera houses world-wide. Yet of all his artistic relationships, one stands apart: his 50-year collaboration with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.

Zubin Mehta Zina Saunders

Established in 1936 as the Palestine Orchestra, the Tel Aviv-based ensemble has been Israel's premiere performing-arts institution since that nation's founding in 1948. Its frequent world tours serve an almost diplomatic function and are as much a part of its raison d'être as its local concerts. Though others have led the group abroad—Gustavo Dudamel conducted an American tour in late 2008—Mr. Mehta has been the orchestra's public face for decades. Their latest tour together, which heralds the orchestra's 75th anniversary in December, begins Saturday in Naples, Fla., and concludes at the Walt Disney Concert Hall here on March 1.

Mr. Mehta, who himself turns 75 later this year, has since childhood preferred warm weather and sea breezes, which may partly explain his affinity for Israel. It also accounts for why he and his wife maintain a house in Los Angeles, which they bought from the actor Steve McQueen in the early 1970s when Mr. Mehta was music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. Located atop a hill in this city's exclusive Brentwood area, it commands views of the Pacific Ocean that understandably draw the conductor back between engagements. He was there on a sunny day last month, looking hale and well rested as he reflected on his close relationship with the Israel Philharmonic.

"A fourth of my life for the last 42 years," Mr. Mehta said in his characteristically crisp, exotically accented voice, calculating the time he has spent with the Philharmonic since his appointment as its music adviser in 1969. "It is just concert after concert of internal spiritual satisfaction. We feed off each other and have for so many years. There have been tensions sometimes, but not as much as there might have been."

He points proudly to the orchestra's self-governing structure, even as he acknowledges some of the challenges it presents. "We receive just 7% or 8% of our funds from the government," he said. "Ticket sales bring in about 60%. The rest we beg for. That's a lot of money, and that's where the friends groups come in. We are very grateful to them. And we don't understand extremely rich Israelis who do not help. They don't realize that the orchestra is one of the only positive factors coming out of Israel today, especially with the present government. It's not the flavor of the month. You should see the success we've had in China and Japan, countries that are not necessarily such friends of Israel."

Mr. Mehta's first contact with the orchestra came in May 1961, when he substituted for an indisposed Eugene Ormandy. But not until 1966—when he stepped in for Carlo Maria Giulini during a Philharmonic tour of Australia and New Zealand—did a durable bond develop between Mr. Mehta and the Israeli musicians. "That's when I first really connected with the orchestra," he said.

Following a successful European tour in 1968, the Philharmonic appointed him music adviser. And he was named its first music director in 1977. Since 1981 he has held the title of music director for life—an honor he minimizes. "It's just a handshake," he said. "There's no contract. And I always tell the orchestra that they can dispense with me any time they like."

Though Mr. Mehta has seen many changes at the Philharmonic during his long tenure, he cites consistencies, too. "When I started, it was an orchestra of the Hapsburg monarchy," he said. "There were Viennese, Poles, Hungarians, Czechs and some German Jews, but basically all Yiddish speakers. Then the sabras"—Jews born in Israel—"started coming in. And now, since the emigration from the Soviet Union, it's become a Russian orchestra, but one continuing with the Central European sound. I have not let that sound disappear. If I had engaged 60 Russians at once, it would have changed, but it was gradual. So the warmth in a Schubert symphony or in Beethoven's 'Pastoral' Symphony is still the sound that I grew up with in Vienna."

The conductor takes credit for having broadened the orchestra's repertory and encouraged greater stylistic flexibility. Yet some things remain innate. "Mahler is in their blood," he said. "Leonard Bernstein once told me that even sight-reading Mahler, this orchestra sounds Jewish."

And then there is the Wagner ban—a particularly sore subject for Mr. Mehta. "We just don't talk about it anymore," he said. "I tried and Daniel Barenboim tried, both unsuccessfully. There are still people with tattoos on their arms in Israel, and they don't want it. So we shy away from it. But Wagner is half my world, and it's frustrating for me not to play it with my favorite orchestra. It's also a vacuum in their musical education. We play Richard Strauss. But Strauss didn't take part in Nazi activities and was not anti-Semitic; Wagner was 110% anti-Semitic. We will keep trying with Wagner, but I can't tell you when. I would so love to do a concert performance of the second act of 'Tristan und Isolde' one day, though we don't have to play 'The Ride of the Valkyries' immediately."

Mr. Mehta has other aspirations as well. Among his educational efforts in Israel is a project that involves the country's Arab citizens. "We have about 250 Arab kids in this program," he said. "It is absolutely my dream to have an Israeli-Arab kid playing in the Philharmonic one day. It will happen. About six of them have already made it to the university. I see this as the future of Israel. Maybe music will help us come together."
