A Pierre Boulez memory

Pierre Boulez is one of the great musical figures of our time. As a young, avant‑garde composer, he created works that defied description. After a while, his gifts as a conductor overtook his compositional ambitions, and he came to wield the baton for the globe’s greatest orchestras, winning multiple Grammies. He has always had the reputation of music’s most serious fellow, the “Ice Man” of classical music.

In the summer of 1986, the New York Philharmonic, whose music director Boulez had been, hosted a “Boulez is Back!” festival featuring both his compositions and his conducting. As a publicist for the orchestra, I was asked to coordinate the photography of some Philharmonic musicians involved in a chamber concert of Boulez’s compositions.

I arranged for the musicians to have their picture taken on the steps of Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. As the photographer and I stood facing the musicians on the steps, just as the photographer was about to snap the photo, the musicians broke into uproarious laughter. The photographer and I were confused. What was the source of this sudden eruption of hilarity? We turned around to look behind us, toward where the focus of the musicians’ attention had been, to see ... Pierre Boulez, “Ice Man,” the most serious fellow in classical music, with his thumbs in his ears, waving his fingers.

His tongue was out, too.