Coda

“It was 20 years ago today, Sargeant Pepper taught the band to play!” Yes, those were the lyrics running through my mind Friday night as I watched the locked-out Minnesota Orchestra, under the direction of Edo de Waart, rehearse the 9th symphony of Beethoven.  Uplifting, and depressing.

Let me back up – just over 20 years ago I came screaming into the Twin Cities with all my belongings in a rented van (nicknamed The Bismark).  I was now the Assistant Conductor of the M.O., and Edo had given me my first real job.  On reflection I was probably a sub-par assistant conductor, though overall I would like to believe my tenure was a positive one for myself and the orchestra.  I certainly learned a lot, and I got to work with a really fine band.

Which is why those lyrics sprung to mind.  I remember seeing an interview by Larry King of Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr shortly after George Harrison had died.  King seemed somewhat surprised by the passion with which both Paul and Ringo were talking about their Beatles days.  Paul, with a merry twinkle in his eye, just said “Great band, man.  Great band.”  Really hard to argue with that.

I can relate.  Would that other young conductors have a band like the Minnesota Orchestra to experiment with, screw up with, be nurtured by, right out of college.  In later years it has always surprised me how good this orchestra really is.  I have my own job, and career, and chase after my own kids, etc., so I rarely got downtown to hear them.  More’s the pity, because whatever M.O. eventually returns from this lock-out tragedy it will not be the one I knew.

Earlier this week I was on break from conducting the Cleveland Orchestra and I got a call from Tony Ross, Principal ‘Cello of the M.O.  The musicians were putting on a performance of their own with Edo, and Tony was asking if I would be the ears for Edo out in the hall for this rehearsal. Despite Beethoven 9 being one of my least favorite pieces in the entire repertoire (that’s another post) I was happy to, which is how I found myself at this rehearsal.  If you had rewound the clock 20 years (and given Edo and I our more youthful hair back), it would have been just like old times.

Except it wasn’t.  Instead of Orchestra Hall, the band was playing in Ted Mann Hall on the campus of the University of Minnesota. The choir were members of the Minnesota Chorale, though they could not be called that.  I heard some ugly rumor that they had been admonished by The Corporation about using the Chorale name; hopefully that isn’t true, but at this point one would believe anything.

And the band itself – it always surprises me how many members of the M.O. I still know.  It’s great seeing my old friends and colleagues, getting hugs and exchanging news.  Yet I could tell immediately that things have already changed.  At least two friends, excellent players, are playing their last concert with their colleagues this weekend, having accepted other jobs.  Two more have retired.  At least one player I know is on a trial with another band.  Others – they are tired of this….. this…. crap.  They want to play.  No…. they want to make music!

But they won’t do it for The Corporation, and frankly I can’t blame them.  It’s not so much pride as it is self-respect.  It is somewhat ironic that while in Cleveland I was conducting Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times, a reflection on how workers are treated in society every bit as profound as Metropolis, and as relevant today as the day it was released.  Any of my M.O. friends would recognize and directly relate to the message of that film.  Indeed, they are living it.

The orchestra I knew, and have loved, is being dismantled in front of my very eyes and ears.  I know it.  The players know it.  Edo and Mad Stan know it.  The Chorale knows it.  And the people of Minnesota know it.  There is now a growing public backlash to the direction The Corporation wants to take this ensemble.  Donors are publically withdrawing money from the M.O., something that is very un-Minnesotan.  We can only hope that public pressure builds to the point where the Board is forced to reverse course, but knowing the Minnesotans as I do (I still live here) it may take a while.  And damage to the Minnesota Orchestra legacy has already been done.

At break I found myself onstage catching up with Jorja Fleezanis, ex-Concertmaster, back from her teaching gig at Indiana University to support her colleagues.  And there was Edo, talking to musicians and reminiscing.  I played a small part in that legacy but I’m damn proud of it, some 20 years ago today.

Great band, man.  Great band.