season nineteen begins

Eighteen years ago (actually it’s a couple weeks more than that now, since our season has shrunk by several weeks) I joined the Oregon Symphony for my first season with a major symphony orchestra. I had already been a member of the Maryland Symphony, but that was an orchestra that played just a handful of concerts each year, instead of the dozens that the Oregon Symphony would put away each season. I won my audition in May of 1995, just in time to get back to Baltimore to accept my Graduate Performance Diploma from Peabody a few days later. I played my second summer at the Tanglewood Festival, which necessitated arriving after the season had begun (I missed out on the waterfront concert that year), and in fact had had my first stint of preparing bowings for the viola section while still in Lenox, since I was hired as Assistant principal, but bumped up to Acting principal when Randall Vemer abruptly resigned at the end of the previous season.

2013 – 18 seasons.

It was something of a shock to join a major professional orchestra – even after the accelerated schedule and high level of the Tanglewood Music Center. First readings showed that the orchestra knew the repertoire and could play it right off the bat – to a point. I was just 26 at the time (just turned 45 today, in fact), and while I knew I could play the viola, there was a whole lot more that I knew I didn’t know. It helped that I’d played principal viola at the National Orchestral Institute five years earlier when James DePreist had been the conductor there, he was a familiar (if still imposing and intimidating presence) figure on the podium, at least. But my first rehearsal was a trial by fire, for sure. Yo-yo Ma was the soloist for the orchestra’s opening gala, and though he was not present for the first rehearsals, the rest of the program included two major solos for the first chair viola: Enescu’s Romanian Rhapsody No. 1 and Kodaly’s Hary Janos Suite. I made it through without disgracing myself (always a worry for me), and the responses from my new colleagues at the first rehearsal break showed that I had arrived in a place that was not just an orchestra, but an orchestral family.

It was something of a dysfunctional family, however. Jimmy was about twenty years into his eventual 25 year reign, and his leadership style in areas of artistic involvement at that point had pretty much taken on the tinge of a Adam Smith’s laissez faire economic policy. Personalities in the orchestra had grown outsized, and there was little to keep them in check, internally or externally. A major influx of new players between 1990 and 1996 challenged many of the entrenched fiefdoms, and there was significant tension between the younger new arrivals and the more senior veteran players. A brief strike in 1996 further polarized the orchestra (even though strike authorization was given unanimously). Only with the departure of Jimmy and the appointment of Carlos did the old institutional power structures begin to collapse, and the gradual unification of the musicians of the orchestra, both politically and artistically, began.

When I joined the Oregon Symphony, the orchestra had a significant regional presence (a factor which had led to the changing of its name from the Portland Symphony in 1967), playing concerts all over the varied terrain of Oregon, including bits of Idaho and northern California. The orchestra’s single major touring event outside the region was a trip to the Hollywood Bowl in 1992 (which was panned by at least one LA critic). In this way, the group was fairly provincial, and I don’t mean that in a mean-spirited way. The orchestra served its local area (city and state) with concerts that were solid and occasionally inspired. The pops under Associate conductor Norman Leyden was a major factor both in its percentage of the concert season and in its earning power. Many veteran players credit Norman for basically keeping the orchestra afloat in some lean years with his astute arrangements that capitalized on the aging audience of the day’s nostalgia for the Glenn Miller years. Resident conductor Murry Sidlin did some brilliant work with his series of Nerve Endings concerts (funded by a grant from the Knight Foundation), culminating with an emotional and powerful presentation of his Defiant Requiem program, featuring the history of the Verdi Requiem being performed at a German concentration camp.

After the arrival of Carlos Kalmar, the artistic trajectory of the orchestra began to head straight up. Much was being demanded of us, and while Carlos could be patient, he also could be exasperated as well. While not such a genial and, frankly, physically obvious figure as Jimmy on the podium and around town (Jimmy was pretty hard to miss if he was out and about!), Carlos’ discipline (and our desire to work hard) began to pay dividends. Audience members began remarking to us after concerts that something was happening, and they had never heard the Oregon Symphony sound so precise and convincing before. One thing led to another, and in 2011, we made our Carnegie Hall debut as part of the inaugural Spring for Music Festival. In 2013 we made our Seattle debut at Benaroya Hall, and we were looking forward to a triumphant return to Carnegie before the trip was unceremoniously and abruptly cancelled due to financial concerns.

In my time with the orchestra, I’ve seen well over 30 colleagues retire or resign. I’ve played under two music directors. I’ve sat on at least a dozen audition committees. I’ve seen four (maybe five) executive directors come and go. Five concertmasters. Four principal cellists.  I’ve endured the untimely passing of several colleagues from this life. I’ve been to quite a few baby showers, too (the orchestra is currently undergoing a baby boom!). I’ve made eight recordings under Jimmy, and two under Carlos, with two more (that I know of) on the way. I played an unspeakably emotional concert in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. I have made friendships that will never end, and I’ve played some of the greatest music ever written by mankind with those friends. I’ve been pissed off, crabby, ecstatic, joyous, terrified, devastated, and triumphant. Let’s see what year 19 brings, shall we?