Donatella Flick is real maestro

"And I know for a fact — I can tell —there is something strange about the place, but I will not say more..."

This is an arresting start to any ­conversation. We have met to discuss the competition which takes her name. Tomorrow, in front of a jury of world-class musicians, three young hopefuls will conduct the London Symphony Orchestra in the final of the 2008 ­Donatella Flick Conducting Competition at the Barbican.

Founded in 1990 with HRH The Prince of Wales as Patron, this biennial event has become one of the major music awards in the world. In addition to a cash prize of £15,000, the winner will become assistant conductor of the LSO for a year, working with the likes of Valery Gergiev, Daniel Harding and Michael Tilson Thomas. The value of such experience is incalculable.

Since the last competition two years ago, mass audiences have been exposed to BBC2's Maestro, in which half a dozen celebrities found out how hard it is to wave a baton to any effect. The musical world remains divided as to whether to cringe or cheer at the endeavour.  

Donatella Flick, who instantly reveals a beguiling, deadpan humour, leaves no doubt as to her opinion. At mere ­mention of the reality TV series, she raises one perfectly arched eye-brow and looks appalled.  

"Jee-eez," she exhales, her heavy ­Italian accent elevating American slang to magnificent disdain. "What am I to say? I do not think it is easy to conduct. In life you can do everything badly if you really want. Why not? But don't joke. To make fun of talent and skill is a waste of time. That's my humble point of view."  

She is not a musician. Indeed, she says little on the subject, preferring to give support — in this case, buying an orchestra and hiring the Barbican for three evenings. Over the past 20 years she has been one of the most effective supporters of music in London. Last year she was awarded the Montblanc de la Culture Arts Patronage Award. Previous recipients include Lord and Lady Sainsbury, Brian Eno and Susan Sontag.

"I don't care if my name is on a brick at Covent Garden or a seat at the New York Met. It doesn't matter. You have to be responsible if you are lucky enough to have money. I don't even care if my competition is called after me or not."
 
Who exactly is Donatella Flick? The answers are manifold, each more exotic than the last. Until a decade ago she was married to Gerhard Rudolph "Muck" Flick, part of the wealthy German industrial dynasty whose empire embraced coal, steel and DaimlerChrysler. Muck's grandfather made his fortune as an arms supplier to the Nazis during the Second World War and presented old master paintings to Hermann Goering as a birthday gift. Muck's brother ­Friedrich Christian "Mick" Flick recently loaned his own art collection, worth about $300 million, to the Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin's contemporary art museum.
Donatella grew up mainly in Italy and Switzerland, the daughter of an Ossettian prince and an Italian mother. As a child of seven, she was a champion gymnast. Now in her early fifties, she looks ageless. Does she work at it?

"You are joking? Excuse me please, exercise for me is walking from my bed downstairs to this room. It is enough, no?" Her paternal grandarents and most of their family, wealthy land­owners, were murdered by the Bolsheviks. Her father escaped to Italy and met her mother, now nearly 90, who comes from a family of Venetian ­aristocrats and newspaper magnates. The third of four children, Donatella is the only daughter.

"My mother is very beautiful," she says, eyes flashing. "She lives in Rome. Her main worry each day is the colour of her eye shadow and the shade of her lipstick. Or, maybe, the reason why she has a headache. I suggest possibly it could be the two bottles of champagne and the schnapps she drank from the night before. She is quite a special woman."  

She says this with droll emphasis. Her own blonde model looks, long slim legs, improbably high cheekbones and sumptuous large lips have left some critics with the wrong impression of her.
"I find it very insulting. Because I'm not yet old and wizened, and maybe I'm not the most unpleasant looking person, maybe even slightly pretty, so people insult my intelligence." It's astonishing that they dare. "If a man is OK looking, no one questions the quality of his brain. It's all so sad, and dull. I come from a family of intellectuals. I studied philosophy at the University of Rome. But who is interested in that?" She shrugs.  

Her outspokenness and sharp wit make Flick instantly likeable, and impressive. Contrary to the supposed high lifestyle and socialising ("I hate parties. Give me my bed and a book"), she is that rare commodity, a serious philanthropist who wants to make something happen because of her.

"One day when I'm gone or give up, perhaps it will be the LSO Conducting Competition. That would give me as much satisfaction. I don't sit on the jury. I wouldn't have any idea how to judge. But I do choose it — they are my friends and they are the top possible people."  
This is true. Those involved include Maxim Vengerov, Sir Colin Davis, ­Evgeny Kissin and Antonio Pappano. Previous winners such as Paul Mann (1998), Francois-Xavier Roth (2000) and Christophe Mangou (2002), are not yet big names here but busy abroad, are pursuing international careers.

"Instead of being a juror, I am immersed in everything else. I write to the banks, I enquire after those who are ill or in difficulty, I check every detail, like a pilot on a mission." She adjusts the lighting as we talk. "It's often better to do these things yourself."

She and her student son, Sebastian, live in stylish, monochrome perfection but this is a house, not a palace. Black and white chairs and cushions are monogrammed with the letters D or S, for mother and son. The walls are discreetly hung with contemporary art, though she doesn't buy much now. Does she have any Damien Hirst?

"Certainly not. Unluckily — or perhaps luckily — I do not have that sort of wealth any more. I think twice before I have my nails done."

Really? "Yes, I was once very rich. Now, I am no longer rich. Are people mad? Are they naïve? What kind of a woman is still wealthy 10 years after a divorce? I am a single working mother who juggles. I cook my own spaghetti late at night when I've been working, I buy my T-shirts in H&M, I wash my own hair under the tap. Jeez!"

Given the financial climate, she briefly contemplated abandoning the competition. "I thought, why not go off to a beach in Miami for a month instead, saving myself money and effort ... I make sacrifices to support this competition because I believe in it."

Why does she battle on? "Duty, dignity. It's how I am." She adds, with a hint of a smile: "No matter if my cleavage is nice or not, I have learned self-respect. I know what I have to do in life."

The Donatella Flick 2008 Conducting Competition final takes place at the Barbican (020 7638 8891).