Joana Mallwitz – Momentum

Director: Günter Atteln (Germany). Year of Release: 2024

The sound of classical music. A woman in her mid-thirties is instinctively moving her hands in time with the rhythm. On the other side of the screen, a reverse image is projected of her holding an actual baton. In 2023, Joana Mallwitz was appointed chief conductor of the Konzerthaus, one of Berlin’s seven big orchestras. She is the only woman to have such a position in any of Berlin’s leading orchestras.

We see one of Mallwitz’s early performances in Berlin. A man in a suit opens a door for her to approach the orchestra. Mallwitz is dressed much less formally. She greets the first and second violins, both of whom are women. Although the film does not directly comment on this, it is clear that something is happening in the world of classical music. Something, but not too much – even now, the orchestra largely consists of men.

Mallwitz explains to an unseen interviewer that she is the worst possible conductor. She is afraid of appearing in public and is not particularly spontaneous. Later she says: “I’m not the sort of person who is naturally content in a room full of people – and I still know that in such moments I must fully concentrate to avoid being helpless from energy and overwork”. Then again, she says, the best way you find out more about yourself is by trying out things for which you’re not really suited.

We flash back, first to Nuremberg 2 years earlier, where Mallwitz was the general director of the Staatstheater. The conductor and musicians dress even more informally, and she seems to have generated a lot of respect. Later on in the film, we see her departure from the theatre, on her way to bigger things in Berlin. An official is in awe of her and kneels at her feet. Mallwitz’s instinctive reaction is to kneel herself and to remain on the same level as her admirer.

Mallwitz’s thoughts on conducting seem to be driven by a similar level of humility. Sitting in front of a large score she expresses her awe for composers who could write so many simultaneous parts. Her role, she implies, is much more minor. When asked about how she reacts when her orchestra does not share her vision, she says “ultimately, authenticity always prevails”. It is almost as if all she has to do is to stand at the front and wave a baton about.

I must admit that I’m not necessarily best placed to make a judgement here. I’m still not entirely sure what it is a conductor actually does. I mean, on one level, it’s clear – the conductor beats time and keeps the orchestra in sync. But there must be more to it than that. The film offers occasional insights, such as rehearsals where Mallwitz tells the bass players to be louder and everyone else to keep quiet, but most of the time I can just sit back and be impressed without really understanding.

The film takes us through Mallwitz’s historical development. We see archive footage of a very young Joana playing the piano with her teacher mother. As a teenager she was sent to a special school for gifted young musicians. In 2014, at the age of 27, she became the youngest female chief musical director in Europe. She seems to have worked constantly since she was 19, with jobs in Erfurt and Nuremberg but also in Salzburg, Paris and Amsterdam.

It is clear that this is not a film about any old conductor. It is – and it isn’t – about a woman who has gained success in a profession which is largely for the boys. Here the film regularly hits the barrier of Mallwitz’s understandable reluctance to talk about herself. Reporters’ questions about her opinions on personal or political matters are repeatedly batted back. She shows neither the interest nor the desire to answer any of these.

A female reporter warns her in advance that she has the ask the questions that her bosses want put, even though Mallwitz has heard them all before. No matter, Mallwitz has developed a method of batting away all questions that she considers to be irrelevant. Throughout the film, Mallwitz – who seems to be naturally shy when she isn’t performing on a podium – looks ill at ease when asked to speak for all women. She’s uncomfortable enough speaking for herself.

When asked about how she mixes a career with motherhood – the reporter accepts in advance that this would not be a question that she’s put to a male conductor – Mallwitz replies as follows: “I can actually deal with It very well as I have tried from the beginning to completely ignore this subject. And after 15, 16, 17 years of my career, it is nonetheless still there. You can’t switch off the subject, and that is so annoying.”

Mallwitz’s refusal to confront “political” questions is both refreshing and annoying. Refreshing, as she should not be expected to speak on behalf of all female conductors (even if she is one of the few available). If she doesn’t want to talk about her personal life, what job is it of a reporter to pry? At the same time, you will her to recount every instance when sexism got in the way of her success – or an explanation of why so many women have been unable to reach her heights.

In between the concert footage, we see Mallwitz and her husband, leading tenor Simon Bode, playing with their son. Although they speak about occasionally having to rely on their parents when they are both performing (occasionally together, sometimes in different countries and continents), it seems a perfect relationship with no great worries about childcare. Reporters ask Mallwitz, but not Bode, how she copes with it all, but she usually changes the subject.

This is possibly one of the weaknesses of the film. It would make for much better drama if Mallwitz went off on one about how her husband doesn’t do his fair share of the housework and childcare, or even about how the structures around the classical music scene have paid insufficient regard for mothers. She may actually believe this, but does not want to answer any private questions. Which is her absolute right, but it means that certain possibilities for dramatic tension are absent.

In pretty much the film’s last scenes we see Mallwitz and her husband hugging on the balcony after one of her performance. He tells her that he was weeping during the Mahler piece. Which part?, she asks. “The bit towards the end when the first violin came in”. Ah yes, she says, we didn’t get that bit quite right. It is such self-deprecation which makes Mallwitz seem so sympathetic as a person, but maybe robs the film of sufficient sharp edges.

I have used the verb “seem” often in this review, as we rarely get to know the “real” Mallwitz. This is not due to any artifice on her part – unless she is a very good actor, she seems (that word again) to believe that she is not worth the attention. Or, as she says herself – when asked about being the only woman leading an orchestra in Berlin – “that is not important for my work. I do my job, that is enough. Although I am of course aware that this is a subject that people will talk about.”

Watching Joana Mallwitz – Momentum makes you think that the conductor is a very decent person. It’s just that decent people do not always make the most exciting subjects for a documentary. I left the film thinking that Joana Mallwitz would be a very interesting person to meet, but this sort of documentary, which encourages an audience which does not know her to intrude upon her personal life, is exactly the wrong form to learn anything about someone like her.