Some Plain Talk about Symphony Orchestras
By Lew Waldeck
ICSOM Emeritus, New York City Opera — Retired Director, AFM Symphonic Services Division
EDITOR’S PREFACE – In the 1980s and early 1990s, a downsizing trend emerged among orchestra managements and boards. Many orchestras, including those in Buffalo, Charlotte, Honolulu, Oakland, Oklahoma City, Phoenix, Rochester, Sacramento, and San Diego, were hit. Some speculated that the double digit inflation of the 1970s and the recession that followed during the Reagan era had crippled orchestras, which were then collapsing under the weight of debt and needed to trim their budgets. (The most expensive orchestras in the cities hardest hit by economic downturns were not collapsing, however.)
Others surmised that the breaking point of board resistance to steady growth in musician costs, with the associated increases in budget size and pressures on revenue production, had been reached. The tide that ICSOM had so successfully generated two or three decades earlier had to be stemmed. In the orchestras infected by this downsizing bug, containing or reversing budget growth took precedence over respectful labor relations, carrying out the orchestra’s mission of public service, and in some cases, even the very existence of the orchestra. Lew Waldeck was the Director of the SSD during most of this troubled time. “Some Plain Talk About Symphony Orchestras” was written during that period to help musicians understand that they were not, as some were lead to believe, responsible for their orchestras’ financial troubles.
Thirty years ago symphony musicians began to think about the causes for their unrest. They thought hard. They thought for a long time. They thought together. They thought separately. They thought, “We are not like any other union. Not like the air controllers or the pilots. We are not only the workers. We are the means of production. We are the delivery system. We own the tools of production. We are the product. We cannot be easily replaced. If we organize well we can solve our problems.” They did organize and by understanding their position were able to make great gains.
Symphony boards and managements said these gains were impossible. They said a 52-week season was impossible. They said full medical coverage was impossible. They said adequate pensions were impossible. Today, members of many orchestras have all these things and more. They have job security. They have limits on their working conditions. They have five-day weeks with guaranteed days off and much more than that. They have grievance procedures and input into the selection of the music director and binding review of tenured dismissals. They have things other unions do not even think possible. These gains have been made not only in a few elite orchestras but in many orchestras.
Past organization made all of these things possible. Present organization assures their continuation and even more growth.
Today they have these things, yet there is still unrest. How can that be? Perhaps it is because musicians had to force symphony boards and managements to pay them living wages. Perhaps it is because they had to force symphony boards and managements to afford them livable working conditions. Perhaps it is because tenure review and artistic control by the musicians is in conflict with “management rights.” This suggests another way to look at things. How has the symphony board and management talked to symphony musicians?
Thirty years ago when they organized themselves musicians brought their problems to the boards and managements. Whatever the problem was, they said, “It is impossible.” “Nevertheless ...” said the musicians, and because of their organization they gained some ground. Next, the managements said, “But first we must build the hall. . . . But first we must build the endowment. . . . They are raising money for the museum and you must wait your turn ... Trust us.” Some players trusted them. Others said, “Nevertheless ...” and because of their organization gained some ground. Then the boards said, “We have a deficit. Give us some time to get our house in order,” and some musicians trusted them. Some musicians trusted them all the way from major to regional status. Because of their organization some orchestras held their ground. Some made gains. Then for the first time a management said, “We have spent several years getting our house in order. We are now running in the black. Now we must ask the musicians to take cuts to preserve this.” “But then, when will it be our turn?” asked even the most trusting musicians. Perhaps the relationship bears the seeds of unrest. Demystifying the symphony musician might help.
The symphony musician is a professional, as a doctor is a professional, as a lawyer is a professional, as a banker is a professional. Often a symphony musician has a degree of commitment unheard of in any other profession. This commitment must be made earlier in life than in almost any other profession. Eight or nine is not an unusual age. That is when most musicians start. Do bankers? Do lawyers? Do doctors? At fifteen, in high school, musicians are already performing for those who have perhaps barely decided to enter law, or medicine, or business. Musicians are already sharpening physical and mental skills comparable to those of Olympic athletes. Upon graduation musicians enter the music program at a university or conservatory. The intensity of concentration is extreme, the expense comparable to educations in law, medicine, or business. At the bachelor’s level, when other professionals are barely beginning their specific, detailed education, musicians are already able to perform lengthy works of the utmost complexity at what would be Olympic levels of 9.5 or better. After graduate school the best of these musicians find jobs in symphony orchestras. In the best orchestras the expected performance level is like an Olympic 9.8 or better, often even in rehearsal.
What is the symphony musician’s reward for this dedication, study and professionalism? At the end of a concert played at peak levels, dressed in servant’s livery, musicians are required not to stand on the highest pedestal to receive the gold but to stand before the audience and bow their submission. Is this how we reward athletes? Is this how we reward doctors? Lawyers? Bankers? The mystification of the act of art as being something beyond the ordinary, a gift of the gods, a reward for suffering in a garret, as opposed to the professional honing of a talent, allows society to ask symphony musicians even in the largest orchestras, “But what do you do for a living?”
The seamless perfection of everyday performance by the musicians allows one board and management to mystify itself to such a degree that it is not astonished by its own acts. It has taken a legal position holding that the musicians must not call themselves members of the orchestra because the public is becoming confused as to who the orchestra really is. Another tries to cancel a season. They do not understand. They do not have that power. Only the musicians have that power; musicians have the music. The musicians chose to have a season. There was a season. Another board gleefully considers a symphony ball without the need to trouble themselves with musicians. Do they not understand they are a support group? Necessary? Yes. Hard-working? Yes. Volunteer? Yes. The orchestra? No. Could these same pillars of society envision a hospital without doctors, a court without lawyers, or a bank without bankers? Perhaps demystification of the institution of the symphony orchestra will help.
Why do we have symphony orchestras? To enrich our lives, to preserve culture, to educate our children. Yes, all these reasons, and we must never lose sight of these primary reasons. Are there any others?
The New York Port Authority has studied that. It found that every dollar spent on the arts in New York generated four dollars in revenues. Other cities have sponsored similar studies and revealed even larger numbers. That is a compelling reason. Cities are competing with each other. They all want the corporate headquarters. They all want the manufacturing. They all want the tourists. The all want the retirees. In order to attract these groups all cities wishing to compete must offer the standard cultural events. Reading the booster article in any in-flight journal will make this very clear. Surprisingly small cities are shown to have symphony orchestras, ballet companies, opera companies, and museums large enough to house important traveling exhibitions.
The message is often “all the culture of a big city with a small town atmosphere.” Realty and business boosterism is surely another reason. How can we measure the dollar value? Not directly, but consider the time, effort, and financial inducements lavished by city governments on sports attractions. A City will build a stadium with public bond issues. A city will make tax easements. A city will bid seriously against many other cities to obtain a sports franchise. In most cases the city receives no direct profits from this franchise. The hopeful owners expect large TV fees and some money from the gate. The city receives intangible values, we are told by our elected officials, measurable in increased property values, more business and more employment. There seems to be a certain similarity of rhetoric here.
There are also reasons related to individual social status and corporate image raising. Organizations like Business for the Arts spend many working hours preparing and distributing expensive print material demonstrating these values to individual business leaders and corporations.
All of these are valid reasons. It is important to understand that their result is the sponsorship of our important cultural institutions. We need only be reminded that there is no such thing as a free lunch. No case can be made for the subsidy of symphony orchestras as work projects for indigent symphony musicians.
This leads us quite neatly to the demystifying question, Who should subsidize symphony orchestras? There is no argument about the need for subsidy. All agree that the professional symphony orchestra cannot pay for itself. Most orchestras consider themselves fortunate to earn fifty to sixty percent of their expenses. The rest must be subsidized. But by whom? Given the above reasons for the life of the orchestra it is reasonable to expect governmental, business, and individual subsidy to make up the difference, just as they subsidize other “special interests” like farming, national parks, and tobacco, to name just a few. To a large degree it does.
There is another large area of subsidy that does not seem so reasonable, the subsidy from the symphony musician. Today [1986] the highest-paying orchestras offer a base salary of about $50,000, which for many professionals is barely an entry-level wage. That is a subsidy. Today many professional orchestras do not approach this level. While still occupying full attention from the musician, many orchestras offer annual wages substantially below $20,000. That is a subsidy. Unlike any other workforce in the country, the musicians, at their own expense, supply the tools to the employer. These tools often cost more than a full year of wages. That is a subsidy. In some cases the employer is not even willing to insure the tools. That responsibility falls upon the musician. That is a subsidy. In most cases the musician is responsible for the care, maintenance, and upkeep of the tools. That is a subsidy. It is hard to imagine a symphony orchestra operating without these subsidies.
A further subsidy is sometimes required of the musicians. When there is a real or perceived financial crisis musicians are often asked to accept substantial reductions in annual salary. In these situations they are often told that the continued existence of the institution is their responsibility. In light of what we now understand about the reasons for a symphony orchestra and the musician’s place in the professional world, can this be a reasonable claim?
The mystification surrounding the purpose of the symphony orchestra and the mystification surrounding the professional musician leaves the musician vulnerable to this sort of charge. It is no wonder that the instinctive perception of inequities not understood on a conscious level produces in professional musicians an unresolvable angst.
It is the responsibility of society on an individual, governmental and corporate level to finally recognize its responsibility. Society, not the professional musician, must pay the bills for an institution it needs.