Celebrating the life of Michael Tilson Thomas

Michael Tilson Thomas, opening night of the 2019 San Francisco Symphony on Sept. 4, 2019. Gabrielle Lurie/The Chronicle

I hate deaths. At the risk of stating the obvious, they hurt. They leave a giant gap. You walk around with an ache that can’t be assuaged. Those are precisely the reasons I love “celebration of life” events for the recently deceased. Sure, you’re still going to grieve. Cry. Feel that emptiness. But the word “celebration” immediately conjures up a different attitude. It alludes to a gathering of like-minded friends, never just one person sitting in a room, sniffling, hunched over a bottle of gin and a box of Kleenex. Granted, both the gin and Kleenex fit well into a celebration of life as well. That’s the fun: in a celebration of life, there’s a place for it all.

So join me, dear reader, in celebrating the life of Michael Tilson Thomas, who died on April 22, 2026, at the age of 81, following a five-year battle with cancer. He  was world-famous and world-beloved, and articles are sure to come in the dozens, if not hundreds. I’m going to keep my own little tribute here short, casual, offer my little-glass-of-gin toast (actually, let’s go with prosecco — it has the proper mix of gravitas and celebration-of-life) to the amazing person and classical-music figure he was, and share links to other articles down below.

The San Francisco Chronicle was the first place I saw and read the news. It’s only fitting that Joshua Kosman, longtime music critic for the Chronicle who only recently retired from the job, should come back to write today’s article and tribute.  “For a quarter of a century and more,” Kosman writes, “Michael Tilson Thomas and San Francisco were practically synonymous in the world of classical music. To speak of either Thomas or the San Francisco Symphony was to speak of the other, and doing so almost always meant celebrating the unique artistic partnership that emerged in Davies Symphony Hall over the decades.” It’s a wonderful article; you can find it HERE.

I wrote this blog, “We Love You, Michael Tilson Thomas,”  in October 2023, after attending a bittersweet performance I’d thought might be his last. Silly me. He powered on, conducting publicly for two more years. That’s the kind of person he is. He reminds me of my dear friend Grace, who died of cancer in [2021] after a long battle with cancer, who, like MTT, greatly outlived her prognosis. Grace loved classical music as much as I did, and it only makes sense to include the link to the blog I created in her last days, “Music for Grace — a Top Ten list for dying”. It’s all classical, all heartrendingly beautiful, and the blog starts off with a great, even hilarious story. MTT would have loved it all.

How about a refill on that prosecco?

Here are things I loved about Michael Tilson Thomas

  • He loved us, the audience. He loved talking to us before specific concerts, and we all loved listening to him. He was an excellent storyteller and I could always feel myself lean in closer, a smile on my face, catching his every word.
  • He was a champion of new music, but always managed to balance out each program. I can’t say I always enjoyed the atonal or experimental stuff, but I liked the exposure to it in judicious amounts. He also added underplayed music to the season, and it was through these efforts that I’ve discovered so many unexpected delights, thanks to MTT.
  • His Mahler cycle. Those Mahler recordings. The thrill of attending a performance that was being recorded, which might go on to win a Grammy for MTT and the San Francisco Symphony.
  • His sense of humor. His spirit. The fight in him to defy his grim cancer prognosis and keep making classical music, being the face of classical music for so many, long past that prognosis.
  • Watching him conduct, the way he threw all his energy and focus into each performance (one time his energy was so high, the baton flew right out of his hand and sailed across the stage and had to be retrieved and returned by an orchestra member).
  • The wonderful rapport he established between himself and the orchestra. They were a team. You could count on their presence and never had to wonder what would happen the next season, and who could you count on? (Regrettably, once MTT’s successor, Esa-Pekka Salonen, announced his imminent departure in March 2024, that became the question on every patron’s lips, month after month after month, with a lamentable lack of proper response from SF Symphony CEO  Matthew Spivey and the Symphony’s Board of Governors–and even today, we ask the same. What is to become of the director-less San Francisco Symphony under such flimsy leadership?)
  • He was a hell of a classical pianist.
  • He was a maverick, a trailblazer, but held deep reference for the masters of the classical music world who came before him.

Rest in peace, MTT. From those of us in the San Francisco Bay Area (and well beyond) who so enjoyed your years as music director, conductor and the glorious face of the San Francisco Symphony, know that you will be never be forgotten.

We love you, Michael Tilson Thomas. Now, and forever. 

PS: Following are more great articles on the life and legacy of Michael Tilson Thomas. I’ll update as I find them, and if you have any fond memories or links to good articles you’d like me to add, leave them in “comments” and I’ll add them here.

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