Revival at the Museum

New York was hardly a musical wasteland in 1842, when the city's Philharmonic Society gave its first public concert on Dec. 7. A large middle-class German population had brought cultivated tastes from abroad; the concert rooms and theaters were filled with touring opera companies on long visits, and there was an impressive roster of homegrown organizations. Indeed, two other Philharmonic societies had already come and gone. The first, founded in 1799, took part in George Washington's memorial services; it lasted until 1816; the second, put together in 1824, succumbed three years later, largely because a craze for masquerade balls had tied up most of the available halls.

Philharmonic No. 3 felt free to mark its debut with a novelty-packed program: the Beethoven Fifth (which New York had heard only once before), arias from Weber and Rossini operas, and assorted works by composers who ranked among the innovators of the time, including Johann Nepomuk Hummel and Johann Wenzeslaus Kalliwoda. Founded by the eccentric but talented violinist-conductor Ureli Corelli Hill, the orchestra gave only three concerts its first year. It charged the astronomical price of $1.11 a ticket (the going price for 20 Ibs. of beef). Unlike the Vienna Philharmonic, though, which was founded the same year and forced to suspend operations several times in the 1850s, the New York Philharmonic stayed solvent.

Dazzle & Boom. Last week Conductor Leonard Bernstein led the orchestra in a birthday celebration that was an almost exact copy of the first-night program. But little else was the same. At the birthday concert, the distinguished musicians in the black-tie audience far outnumbered those on the stage (among them: Composer Aaron Copland, Conductor Leopold Stokowski, Pianist Rudolf Serkin, Violinist Isaac Stern and retired Tenor Lauritz Melchior). Ticket prices were set as high as $35 (regular concerts currently bring an $8.50 top). The orchestra, which merged in 1928 with the rival New York Symphony and became the Philharmonic-Symphony Society, has doubled from the original 53 players, to 106. What was once a daring program, with its mixture of orchestral works, chamber music and arias, now seemed merely quaint. The razzle-dazzle of Kalliwoda's Overture in D Minor sounded tame to ears familiar with Wagner, Mahler and The Rite of Spring.

Yet there was also much that had not changed. In the 1850s, American composers filled the press with complaints that the Philharmonic was bypassing native creativity in favor of established European classics. The composers are still complaining. And last week Bernstein explained why. The "natural growth and decline" of symphonic literature, he said, "has left us with a great repertory of masterpieces from the 18th and 19th centuries, but only a few from the 20th. The orchestra today is booming as never before, but as a museum. The conductor today is a kind of curator."

Time Is Money. But though he is a curator of a repertory outlook that has changed only slightly, other things have changed mightily. Eyebrows were raised in 1865 when the Philharmonic hired Conductor Carl Bergmann at what was then a whopping $1,000 a year for its five-concert season. Today, conductors in the Big Five U.S. orchestras (New York, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia and Cleveland) average 100 times that figure. And with the money has come a work schedule undreamed of a century ago. Three years ago, the Philharmonic was the first orchestra to put itself on a 52-week schedule. Several others have now followed suit.

Even with vacations (which are usually spent in finding and learning new scores), the pace makes it almost impossible for conductors to maintain artistic standards. Last week Boston's Erich Leinsdorf announced that he would resign in 1969; the demands of his job, he said, are just too much. Bernstein is scheduled to leave the Philharmonic at the same time, largely because the grueling schedule gives him insufficient time for composition. Chicago is shopping for a conductor, and Philadelphia's Eugene Ormandy and Cleveland's George Szell are fast approaching retirement age. Clearly, the museums are outgrowing their curators.

Decline & Rise. Despite his definition of the current role of the orchestra, Bernstein himself can take a great deal of credit for the Philharmonic's growth since he became music director in 1958. The Philharmonic may be an overworked organization today, but it was depressed for far more basic reasons during the two decades between Arturo Toscanini's departure and Bernstein's arrival. Neither John Barbirolli, Artur Rodzinski nor Dimitri Mitropoulos, despite exceptional musicianship, had been able to stem a steep decline in ensemble precision and morale, and the results had begun to show at the box office.

Bernstein, in reaching both players and audiences with his magnetic personality, has made symphony going once more a galvanizing experience. And he has made the Philharmonic an interesting orchestra once again, alert and devoted to music. "Toscanini did it with his interpretations, Bernstein with the innovations he made," says Tympanist Saul Goodman, whose 42-year Philharmonic career spans both eras. A museum it may be, but at its 125th birthday, the Philharmonic is a far healthier celebrator, with a longer life expectancy, than it has ever been in the past.

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