Bruce Hembd, a French Hornist from Phoenix, had a “hay” day with Tony Beadle’s ridiculous remark comparing the symphony to a dinosaur which needed to be fed 500 bales of hay a day.
Check out his hilarious photo-shop assembled poster and a review of the comment here. It’s worth clicking on the photo to enlarge it and see the detail.
Technicalities and protocol excuses aside, GCAC (Greater Columbus Arts Council) is failing Columbus with its plan to abandon funding for our Symphony before the dust has settled in our current crisis. The story is unfinished, yet they have publicized their intention to sign their names to a premature end. Is this the kind of leadership you want running your city’s cultural engine? For once I can agree with Tony Beadle, the symphony’s Executive Director, who is quoted saying, “It just sends a message of nonsupport to the community.” They vote on the decision May 27th. You can contact them at GCAC.
(Addendum: the music critic who reviewed last night’s concert, Barbara Zuck, didn’t stay to and hear our incredible performance of Bolero, in what may end up being the Columbus Symphony’s LAST classical concert. Players, whom she’s heard for 30 years give their lives to the music, may now be forced to fall silent. She barely mentioned the orchestra in what she did write. Deadline or not, I find the gesture irresponsible and uncaring. Yet, if Zuck is behaving against her best interests in supporting fellow artists in the orchestra, it begs the question, who is pulling her strings?)
You know how a Tsunami starts with a huge VOID? The water drops away from the shore before the wave rises. Well, the water has been pulling away from the shore of the Symphony for awhile, but now it’s rising into a huge wave of support for the orchestra.
Tonight’s concert, with the amazing Yo Yo Ma leading us to ever higher levels of music making, and our beloved Junichi picking up where Ma left off, was a surge even higher than last week, which was already substantial music making (and appreciation of it) from us all.
The crowd tonight filled the house to the brim, and even Buzz Trafford, board president, felt he deserved to bask in it a bit, announcing that if we were playing in Severance Hall (Cleveland’s concert hall, smaller than the Ohio Theater), 500 people would be without seats. Keep basking Buzz, but don’t forget to zip up your wet suit. The water may be a bit colder than you like it.
The delightful Rosamunde Overture by Schubert allowed us all to settle in and enjoy the anticipation of excitement ahead. Schubert’s airy melodies floated from the orchestra like feathers in a tropical breeze. The world of music knows no budget limits or recession. And the orchestra played like a million bucks. If only we knew how to translate that wealth into greenbacks.
I didn’t have a part to play in the Haydn cello concerto, so I heard it from back stage. Ma may earn a chunk of change for one performance, but he puts out the goods. I doubt Haydn could have ever imagined his perfect concerto played MORE than perfectly. Not only was the performance flawless, at least from back stage, but it had drama, delight, intimacy, excitement and joy among its colorful moods. I watched some of the rehearsal with Ma and found myself rapt not only with his playing, but the effortlessness of his body language as he played.
Needless to say, the crowd went wild. For Haydn? As I think about this a drone plays in my ear, like some kind of repetitive torture, telling me classical music is outdated, a dying art, insupportable by the market. The market seems to be changing its tune, and those who really should be listening are tone deaf.
After intermission, Ma played the Saint-Saëns cello concerto, one of my favorite pieces by a favorite composer. Perhaps it’s because I had a crush on someone who played it for me in High School. The main melody of the first movement exudes the wavy passion of a slightly tipsy man deeply in love. He loves everyone! Ma laid it out, easy to follow, especially for a tipsy theme. Junichi was right there with him. We all enjoyed the ride. The second and third movements alternate between moods of domestic childhood bliss and a wistful theme which conjures the sweet pathos of life in a way only Saint-Saëns can.
As we rollicked to the very end, we let lose (according to plan) in a way Junichi rarely lets us do. We are just beginning to understand the control with which we are capable of “letting lose”. After nearly two years of working with him, we are just beginning to tap into our potential for controlled passion and power, the energy tapped by the greatest orchestras, from Cleveland to Berlin.
For an encore, Ma joined members of Carpe Diem string quartet, sans orchestra, to play the slow and dramatically rich second movement of Schubert’s Cello Quintet. The quartet was buoyed by Ma’s powerful presence and outdid themselves. Though the piece was a bit long for an encore, the hall was stark silent with focus during the quietest moments of the music.
It was time for the final work of the night, Ravel’s Bolero. Ma pulled up a chair and sat in the back of the cellos. He wanted to join us, and we were honored. He had briefly lauded, in no uncertain terms, our quality as an orchestra and the greatness of our city of Columbus. Junichi also offered some words to our audience. His charm and appeal grow each time he speaks. Without a microphone it was hard to hear him, but the gist was clear; he loves us, he loves the city, and believes deeply in both.
I, along with my woodwind colleagues, was a bit nervous, having to play the ultra soft beginnings of Bolero “cold” after sitting there silent for more than ten minutes. Phil Shipley, who was placed right in front of Junichi, began playing the famous bolero rhythm: tum-tupata tum-tupata tup-tup, tum-tupata tum-tupata tupata-tupata tum.
Randy Hester, principal flute, began the famous theme, which Junichi had coached us to play sensuously, without inhibition. The tempo Junichi chose seemed slow to us at first, perhaps because it’s more difficult to perform the solos effectively and control them at that tempo. Randy held perfect rhythm and added just enough enticement to invite the next soloist, myself.
I had worked on this for a few hours last night, playing it with the metronome over and over to get the control and stability I wanted, from which I could then evoke just a touch of playful flirting. Not too much, however, because I knew there was a long way to go. I was happy with how it went, passing the theme on to my friend Betsy Sturdevant, bassoon.
The bassoon states the second of the two themes the whole piece is built on. It is far more provocative and alluring. Betsy added just the right amount of heat to boost it up a notch and pass it on to Robert (Woody) Jones, my section colleague, playing the highly temperamental Eb clarinet. He repeated the theme presented by Betsy, and notched it up a bit, adding his own style and just the right amount of freedom to the undulating line.
Next up was the Oboe D’amoré, another unusual instrument between an oboe and an English Horn, played by Steve Secan. His melody went back to the first one which Randy and I had played. He laid it down superbly, rhythmic and clean, with just a hint of sensuality, just like his teacher and mentor John Mack would have done.
Junichi knew exactly how to help each person play their best. He coaxed those who needed it, and left others alone, sensing which would work best. The melody, though repeated endlessly, built in volume and color with each statement.
Ravel’s purpose in writing the piece was to experiment with unique tonal color combinations, like Monet did in his paintings, where three painting of the same scene were rendered in completely different colors and moods.
As the piece built, the tempo remained a powerful reality, the clock ticking as we all played our souls out to lure the audience into joining us in our passion. Phil Shipley and Bill Lutz held the hypnotic rhythm in perfect balance between stability and tension, wanting to move but restricted by time. Here lies the key to this piece; picking the right tempo. Junichi had set it perfectly from the first note.
The various solos, all played gloriously, built on each other as bodies heat up each other and feed off that heat to heat up more. The passion rose and rose.
The tempo never budged. The drums were pounding now, with the timpani joining in on three, one…. three, one…. three, one…. three, one. The orchestra played as one large organism. I lost myself completely and just basked in the rich aura of sound.
At the orgasmic end, our audience JUMPED to their feet.
It doesn’t get any better than that!
Are you ready to ride the wave with us?
Today’s Dispatch article, Public efforts springing up to aid symphony, gave me a little boost this morning when I saw it. Until I read the last paragraph, that is.
The reporters highlighted the numerous efforts around Columbus to raise money, awareness and especially passion for the orchestra. Every bit counts when an arts organization reaches out for support. It’s about much more than dollars. Passion and optimism are money in the bank. People look to the arts to help them rise above the fray. It pays well over the long run to validate those passionate emotions.
Among the efforts described were those of the Columbus Symphony Orchestra League (CSOL), the students of OSU, and a new online group called Symphony Strong, which organized a very successful event at the Worthington Hills Country Club. Our music director, Junichi, also works tirelessly to help save us, a rare and unusual gift from his position, which usually remains aloof of internal problems of their orchestras. (I wonder what his manager is thinking?) Unfortunately, lacking mention was the Women’s Association of the Columbus Symphony, which has an important history of supporting the CSO.
They also featured some background on the two recitals I gave at my home. One phrase summed up the optimistic tone of the article, “But the music trumped the money.”
Every word counts. Even Tony Beadle’s words.
His final words were, “At the end of the day, people have to understand that we’ve got a huge dinosaur here that has to be fed 500 bales of hay a day.”
Dinosaur?! Ah, Mr. Beadle. The musicians and supporters thank you for such passionate and optimistic leadership in the midst of our crisis.
It should be known that, despite being two years into his tenure, Mr. Beadle has yet to move to Columbus in any permanent fashion. It seems Columbus is only a temporary stop off for him before moving on. I wish him well where ever he goes.
Here is Glenn Sheller’s (Dispatch editorials page editor) letter to which Bob Nichols responds below. Mr. Nichols’ gentle admonishments seem to have little effect on the outcome of the Dispatch’s stance.
Dear Mr. Nichols:
Much of the opposition to the board’s plan focuses on what the board SHOULD have done before to prevent the symphony’s finances from reaching such a parlous state. But even if it’s true that the board previously failed to act effectively, nobody can travel back in time and fix things. So the question is, what would critics have the board do NOW? How do critics propose that the symphony balance its budget?
Dear Mr. Sheller,
Thank you for your response to my May 10 email. Excellent point - the problem today IS today’s problem to be solved, not yesterday’s! So let’s do PUSH for a resolution now, and NOT surrender to an “I give up – you win (or you lose, depending on where you stand) conclusion. The motivation to protect the integrity of an in-place asset, an unchallenged artistically successful institution (the CSO) SHOULD, should it not (?), provide plenty of motivation to look for solutions to protect, not destroy this orchestra. I am sure it is much cheaper, easier, and considerably more efficient to keep an orchestra, than it is to create one. This scenario assumes the board leadership is not already satisfied, even pleased, they are about to, or perhaps have, already achieved their goal – to disband the present orchestra.
Unfortunately, their actions and published comments to date have done NOTHING to dispel this very dark and I sincerely believe inaccurate, although too easily obvious, a conclusion.
“How do they balance the budget?” is asked. Perhaps it IS a smaller orchestra in terms of full time musicians, perhaps it IS a shorter season. However, it certainly is NOT resorting to abusive or inadequate compensation practices (i.e.. 40 %, or whatever it was, pay cuts). It is NOT canceling reportedly successful concert venues (i.e. Picnic With the Pops). It is NOT denigrating the input of the musicians by insincere “bargaining” sessions. (i.e. apparently ignoring a $500,000 payroll reduction reportedly offered by musicians). It is NOT conducting lack-luster fund raising campaigns that do not reach a sufficiently broad audience and do (did) not instill ANY sense of urgency.
I am not informed enough to place priorities on, or to determine the relative value of, each the above items – but I do think there is a potential balanced budget there, somewhere - maybe even w/o any personnel reductions(?), do you suppose?.
Now to matters other than “balancing budgets.”
WOSU has understood the importance of broad campaigns, directed to individuals and their sense of responsibility to maintain a service that used to be, and still is would you believe free for the listening! They have done this through repetitiously reinforcing the intrinsic value of their service plus developing a public sense of urgency, ownership, and responsibility. They (WOSU) followed a very unpopular programming change with another successful campaign – actually amazing! Is there not a lesson available here to our symphony?
No one, except perhaps the politicians (?), I think, has ever “won” the battle for popular support by attacking the credibility of those individuals on the other side. Affirming relationships are much more constructive! There has certainly been too much of that unfortunate technique used here between the symphony leadership and the musicians. The January board “Strategic Plan” began this episode by producing a unilaterally created document arguably not very kind to the musicians on several levels. The musicians responded quickly and understandably questioning the integrity of the board and leadership. This sort of dialogue has continued unabated, and recently has even spread to the Maestro! This practice is very sad and totally unproductive leading to divisiveness that can last beyond the time limits of the “negotiations.” Very, very sad indeed!
In conclusion, this “critic,” would very much like to see the symphony board/leadership along with the musician’s leadership quickly seek the counsel of a third party mediator/consultant to enable developing an acceptable and creative resolution for everyone out of this obvious impasse. (I admittedly have no credentials to be labeled a “critic,” I am only reacting to what I perceive as less than positive and not very constructive publicly displayed attitudes that sometimes even seem to be driven by mysterious(?) agendas.)
I do not see ANY indication a solution is to come from any other source or technique.
Can we not ALL easily agree that the Columbus Symphony Orchestra is worth the effort!
Incidentally, I was “amused” with the editorial comment Sunday morning that “…the loss (of the CSO) would not necessarily mean the loss of orchestral music in Columbus.” We simply are evaluating this issue on totally different levels. It occurs to me and I am quite sure you will not ever hear any of the personnel of the “other” orchestras in or around Columbus express anything other than dismay at losing or the compromising of the Columbus Symphony.
The Dispatch certainly has it within their influence to garner positive community support around the symphony, to stimulate the kind of attitude that would enable the negotiation of a responsible “labor” contract, and to give confidence to a no doubt “uneasy” board, as well as to help generate a community climate for very successful 2008-2009 fund campaigns.
Wouldn’t you like to do that? A decision to not go this route will most certainly also contribute to the destruction of the CSO as a viable institution for many years.
At the risk of redundancy, the goal should not be simply to save or keep “a” symphony orchestra - the goal is for Columbus to continue to have an orchestra worthy of the true critic’s ink.
Recent ticket sales and the positive community/audience response to the orchestra certainly are encouraging. Let’s build on that!
Once again, thank you for your response and taking the time to read this rather long email.
Bob Nichols
Many of you may have seen this letter, which appeared in the Other Paper last week and in the Dispatch a few days ago. It states the case for the arts as vital to both the economy and our city’s well being.
The Orchestra, the Arts, Our Community
The well-publicized and documented troubles facing the Columbus Symphony Orchestra (CSO) are part of an even bigger picture that I find troubling. The CSO is a key contributor to our quality of life in Columbus, well beyond the seasonal performance schedule. The education programs and outreach, and our accomplished Youth Orchestra, bring music and more to our children.
In terms of the business case for our Orchestra, many writers and economists emphasize the importance of the creative class as a central driver of the new economy. The CSO employs significant numbers of artists who live here, raise their families here, and spend their money here. Perhaps most importantly, for businesses small and large trying to attract and retain talent, the CSO represents an important part of our cultural fabric and our image as a great American city. Simply stated, no symphony, no great city.
The root of the symphony’s problems is our ailing economy. Working families in Central Ohio are being pinched at every turn for time and money. When one is forced to choose between food, fuel, and the finer arts, it is the latter which will suffer first. And without an audience, our performing arts organizations will need additional support from the same sources everyone else is tapping: individual donors and the business community.
So where are we investing in the creation of tomorrow’s jobs? Where is the support for innovation? Our region needs leadership and a long-term development strategy to help us take action and improve the things that matter. Yes, I need food to live, and fuel to travel, but I need the arts to make the journey worth taking.
_____________________________________________________
Robinson is the Democratic candidate for Ohio’s 12th U.S. Congressional District running against incumbent Pat Tiberi this fall. For more information on David Robinson and his policies, go to www.robinson2008.com.
Something about the enthusiastic crowd last Saturday brought it on. Maybe it was the loud and sustained applause which greeted Junichi Hirokami when he first came on stage, even before the music had begun. Maybe it was the intensity with which he conducted the opening chords of fate by the strings in Beethoven’s passionate and dramatic Egmont overture. Maybe it was the supernaturally powerful sound which emanated from the strings and then the whole orchestra as we played.
The energy never stopped. Junichi never stopped asking for more, more beauty, more passion, more depth, from us. Our audience followed every note, every whisper, as we played.
Maybe it was the four, or was it five (?) curtain calls for our Maestro, and for us, at the end of that momentous concert. Maybe it was the throng of vibrant students, who had pulled together as a group to attend that concert and support us, led by a few die hard leaders, Matthew Brahms and Julianne Akins.
I felt it all, and didn’t believe it. Was it because it was too good to be true? Did Columbus love us that much? After all, we had heard almost nothing but dismal news from those in whom we entrusted our fate. We heard that we weren’t worth what we were paid, we were replaceable, we were a nuisance, a thorn in their side, a delay in their day. At least that’s the way we had felt. Until that night.
Something happened. I am always skeptical about such “energy” forces and such unproveable phenomena. Though I love mythology, I am a scientist at heart. Show me the graphs the facts, and I’ll believe it. But something hit me that night which I had never felt. I think we all felt it, those who were there, in the orchestra, in the audience.
At the wonderful party afterwards, I met several of the incredible people who had attended several recent recitals at my home. One of them bought me a drink, to celebrate. They had felt it too.
Pieces fell into place that night. I met and spoke with people whom I wasn’t quite sure I trusted, but who now gave me big hugs and clicked with me, and I with them. Conversations happened, words and ideas flowed. I seemed to meet the very person I had wanted to speak to just as I need to say what I had to say.
I kept feeling it, that energy I claim to be suspicious of. It wasn’t me, it wasn’t anyone else in particular. It came from everyone there, from the sidewalk, from the air, from the high quality jazz band playing their hearts out. (I spoke to them later; they’re OSU students; I plan to have them play at my home this Summer)
I came home feeling a rush of optimism I didn’t know I was capable of feeling. Yet the question gnawed at me: What was there to be optimistic about?
The next morning I read the Dispatch editorial about the Symphony, and reality came rushing back; we were not important, we were a huge annoyance, we were entirely replaceable. It couldn’t be. Not after the night before. But there it was, in print; do or die.
What was I feeling the night before? Was it valid? I can’t say no, unless the blood running through my veins is cold. But it’s hard to say “YES, I believe it!”.
Yet, I KNOW what I felt, and I know everyone else there felt it. Did you?
Tonight, I played a few small things with a dozen or so other musicians at another Symphony Strong event at the Worthington Hill Country Club. And it happened again! I saw how the audience listened intently as each musician told their personal stories about where they grew up and how they got into music.
I was a bit nervous playing some pretty modern jazzy pieces for clarinet and bass, after hearing the preceding wonderful string pieces which had a popular appeal and had the audience on their feet. But I introduced each piece with humor and played it with gusto. Afterwards, many people came up to tell me how refreshing those little modern jazz ditty’s were, how much they enjoyed me enjoying the music.
And I began to feel it again, that feeling of being on top of a BIG wave, and knowing it’s REALLY happening, and you just have to trust the wave and let it take you along with it.
Drew McManus at Adaptistration has given us the most comprehensive and constructive game plan to date. This block of suggestions is from his detailed overview of our current state, Columbus’ Smoking Gun. I post it here for all to see, including Dispatch reporters, Board members, Management and Patrons. Let’s get the show on the road, literally! There’s music to be made.
1. The musicians’ current offer to reduce operating expenses for the 2008/09 season by at least $500,000 is adequate ground for both sides to reach a minimum one-year agreement by the end of June.
2. Retract the decision to cancel the summer season.
3. Begin selling 2008/09 subscriptions immediately.
4. Acquire several new executive board members who embrace the concept that responsible governance is only obtainable when board leaders accept a minimum degree of personal and professional risk; i.e., “no one ever cut their way to success” (Granted, easier said than done but not impossible).
5. Craft a new strategic plan that includes detailed artistic goals and the financial requirements necessary to reach those goals that satisfies both board and musician bargaining concerns.
6. Design and launch an endowment campaign by the end of the 2008/09 season.
7. Inspire confidence through competence: no one wants to get involved with an organization sinking in debt nor do they want to get involved with an organization that alienates and denigrates employees or forces them into a position to lash out at those responsible for governing the institution.
Many thanks for the informative email’s. I have copied them and already spread them out for others to see the TRUTH. There is so much misinformation out there.
My husband and I have a long history with the CSO as devoted audience and I particularly am reminded of past years that hold an extra twinge for me. I studied piano with Jean Whallon prior to her death and when her widower, Evan Whallon conducted the Elijah” as her memorial I was fortunate enough to be one of the three he asked to write a short eulogy for the program centerfold. There was a small group of us that counted ourselves his friends who knew the cowardly conduct of the Board when Evan was asked to step down (not retire) after giving 26 years of his life to the symphony. He always stayed with me when he again was in town for a performance so I learned some of his favorite musicians. The young woodwind group from Eastman counted among some of the best of them. Who will ever forget the memorial concert for Evan. I sat with his sisters and watched as they were transformed again by some of his favorites.
After Evan’s death I joined a Woman’s Association Unit, Worthington Sonata, to honor his memory. He always felt that the Women’s groups had been largely instrumental in the growth of the CSO. So now we come to this heart rending time when Mark and Wendy Morton are already lost to us. Just a couple of years ago, Mark brought his wonderful instrument to fill a house in Worthington with it’s rich sound for a Sonata unit meeting. He seemed so happy to share with us. With no fee!
For what it is worth from here, it seems that the best way to proceed would be to allow the entire Board and Administrative staff to quit or fizzle out and then to reform/restart our symphony with a more balanced and just way or handling the administrative life of the symphony. I’m sure it is more complex and difficult than I make it sound but would this way of going be worth examining?
A symphony lover and supporter, Mary Casto Nitschke and Charles Nitschke
Betsy, principal bassoonist with the CSO, wrote this letter to the Dispatch after Saturday’s momentous concert. So far it remains unpublished, which means it’s a good letter, since the Dispatch avoids reasonable truth like the plague.
As a musician of the Columbus Symphony, I am grateful for the opportunity given to me by the city of Columbus to perform professionally as a bassoonist. It was my dream since age 8.
Last Saturday’s performance under our Music Director Junichi Hirokami was a highlight of my life. Before the concert, we musicians mingled with audience members, thanking them for their support. Without them, there would be no orchestra.
During the concert, Maestro Hirokami lit the orchestra on fire, and the audience knew it. As the orchestra members played as one unit, I felt proud of my colleagues for being such masters of their instruments and of the art of ensemble. Never before have I heard such lengthy and enthusiastic applause!
We now stand on the precipice between an orchestra which has been thriving since the 80’s and silence. We musicians are ready and willing to take necessary paycuts, especially if outside assistance is brought in to plan administrative improvements. The currently proposed cuts are too drastic- most of us would leave and we’d be left with not the Columbus Symphony, but the Family Dollar Philharmonic. It would not be professional, but part-time, much like the housewives’ orchestra which existed here many decades ago.
Columbus deserves better than that!
