Imagine an Orchestra without Musicians
October, 2004
“Ah-ha!” as the Bard would say: “There you have it!”. No musicians, no orchestra, therefore no music. Just a frightening, hollow, silent sucking sound of nothingness in a full house of music lovers waiting expectantly, lights dimmed, trustees in attendance, concert sponsor waiting proudly for kudos, conductor in the wings, and—nothing. Zilch, zip. The void. Because there are no musicians.
Our musicians are the one indispensable element that makes our concerts possible. This season we will be spotlighting some of our players, highlighting the remarkable cast of characters that make up our orchestra, trying to get to know them and learn some of the mysteries of their skills. We recently presented “Random Acts of Music” for subscribers. Four of our leading players presented intensive 12 minute mini-seminars on their instruments. Some of you experienced, up close and personal, who these musicians were as people, what drives them, why they drive for so many miles to play for us, what made their instruments unique, how they produced their sounds, the challenges that they wrestle with, how they blend with others—the answers to many of the nagging questions that jiggle our minds when we listen to a concert. It was a special kind of quiet success. Typical reaction from those who attended was: “I learned things I never knew before.”
Despite the superficial trappings of glamour, playing an orchestral instrument is one of the most physically exacting undertakings the human body can endure. Injuries are frequent and painful, and the neurological and physical stresses within the musical profession are often downright dangerous and can last a lifetime. The great American pianist, Leon Fleischer, has just recovered the use of his debilitated right hand after 40 years of treatment. A study by US News Today study revealed that next to test pilots and professional athletes, playing in a symphony orchestra was the third most stressful occupation.
And it doesn’t pay a lot. A musician decides very early to literally give his/her life to music for just slightly above minimum wage-- that is, if they happen to be lucky or talented enough to get work after their 15 to 20 years of study. When you see a musician walk on to the stage, that player has already put in many hours of personal practice just to prepare the notes of his own part, even before the rehearsals begin. An orchestral player must practice between 2 and 5 hours daily just to retain his/her skills; that’s apart from learning new repertoire. Meanwhile they raise families, build homes, pay their taxes and deal with the same life’s curve balls that we all deal with. And after all that, we expect them to perform as artists, leave their problems and egos at home, give to the ensemble and the conductor, express the music, reveal their innermost selves, on cue, and inspire us.
After this concert, please introduce yourselves to at least one of our terrific musicians. At our post concert reception. They would love to meet you, and I know you’d enjoy meeting them. They are the Philharmonic.
