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Good, one musiciantweetedon the news of his death, a sentiment echoed across social media.
He was also a monster who sexually preyed on children.
He made his Met debut in 1971 at 27, conductingTosca.
The stars relied on him not to be thrown by their lapses or eccentricities.
At the same time, he wasabusing teenagers.
Everyone in his orbit and many beyond had motivation to discount what they heard.
A pat on the back from him was currency around the world.
A touch elsewhere went unremarked upon.
Interviewing him was like talking to a stone wall of placidity that was overgrown with verbiage.
At other times, he dodged me for days, then called me at home late in the evening.
Its Jimmy, he said, before launching into another vague peroration.
The blandness was strategic.
He rarely if ever got angry or said no; he had others do it for him.
Singers often bathed in his admiration until they stopped getting jobs.
The Met was not just grateful for his care, loyalty, and prestige; it was also desperate.
Levine quietly banked on his uniqueness, freezing out other conductors who might threaten his hegemony.
His health would likely have prevented him from conducting much longer anyway.
Even now, the Met continues to need him.
Night after night, there was Levine in his prime, popping onto the podium to roaring cheers.
Onstage, characters commit murder, treason, incest, and assorted acts of depravity.
Then, the curtain falls, and they emerge back onstage to forgiving applause.
