Published Biweekly Over the Summer,
July 18, 2006
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Mickey Butts
By Robert Commanday How soon we forget. A few months ago, while looking on the Marin Symphony Web site for the exact term of its music director of 34 years, Sandor Salgo, I was amazed to discover that his name wasn't even mentioned. After all, he made that orchestra almost from scratch, turning it from mostly volunteer to professional. Meanwhile he was also directing the Carmel Bach Festival (for 35 years), San Jose Symphony (19 years), Modesto Symphony (9 years), and, as a professor of music at Stanford University, its symphony and opera program (24 years). All in all, Salgo's was the longest, strongest, and most far-reaching career of any conductor in the history of the Bay Area, if not California. ![]() Quickly, when brought to the attention of the Marin Symphony administration, the oversight was corrected. Now, in the orchestra's short bio, one sentence acknowledges Salgo's "momentous years." That faux pas engendered investigation that led to one such case of neglect after another. It would be reasonable, then, to conclude that the overwhelming majority of patrons and subscribers of our performing institutions could not answer satisfactorily the simplest questions about their orchestra's or opera company's history. Name three of the San Francisco Symphony's five music directors before Michael Tilson Thomas. Not so easy, is it? I went to its Web site to see what kind of prompting could be found. Of the 2,000-word history of the S.F. Symphony on its Web site, 200 words are devoted to the before-Michael Tilson Thomas years. The remaining 1,800 words are given to his accomplishments and era. No surprise that the whole thrust of the Symphony's marketing and the preponderance of its emphasis is on the current music director. Edo de Waart's name is merely listed with no comment, as are those of his predecessors, Enrique Jordá, Josef Krips, and Seiji Ozawa. De Waart, in fact, did a good job as music director from 1977 to 1985, especially at the crucial transition from the Opera House to Davies Hall, when the Opera orchestra was set apart from the Symphony as an independent ensemble and 12 percent of the Symphony elected to go across the street. De Waart effectively supervised their replacement with excellent young musicians in what was probably the most complete renovation of a major symphony orchestra in modern times. At that point, in 1980, he created the current highly regarded orchestra, the subsequent changes in personnel occurring with the annual retirements of just two or three musicians per year. De Waart consolidated and unified the new ensemble. He deserves some credit in the history, one would think. ![]() Assuming the Symphony's podium in 1963, when the orchestra's performance standards, morale, and audience were at its lowest ebb, Josef Krips established integrity in the ensemble and led performances of deep, expressive quality. His Mahler, Classic/Romantic repertory, and contemporary repertory achieved high levels. But looking at the Symphony's heritage, the music director it should enshrine would be le Maître, Pierre Monteux, and his era, 1935 to 1952. Though symphony seasons were short in those days, with the musicians working at all other kinds of musical jobs to make ends meet, the orchestra played wonderfully for him. They had to he was that inspirational a leader, a musician's musician. Monteux was one of the great conductors of the century, and it sounds it on the 40 recordings he made. The sentence the Symphony's Web site history devotes to him refers to "the legendary Pierre Monteux, who introduced the world to Le Sacre du printemps and Petrushka," but says not a word about his achievements here. There should at least be a bust or portrait of Pierre Monteux on permanent display in Davies Symphony Hall. If it had any respect for its legacy, the current Symphony Association would be following the practice of most other major orchestras, issuing CD remakes of Monteux's S.F. Symphony recordings, as well as recordings of exceptional performances by Krips, De Waart, Ozawa, and yes, Enrique Jordá. (Jordá had his moments, even if they were not frequent.) The best of Herbert Blomstedt's performances should be included, even though during his annual three- and four-week guest appearances as conductor laureate he is the only former music director to be accorded that honor he replays his favorites, keeping everyone in mind of what he did back in the days. As a reader, David Nee of Berkeley, pointed out after this article was originally published, there were actually nine music directors of the San Francisco Symphony, four before Pierre Monteux: the founding director, Henry Hadley; his successor, the great Alfred Hertz; and the two who took over relatively briefly following Hertz' death, Basil Cameron and Issay Dobrowen. To go back still further into truly buried history, there was a San Francisco Symphony in the 19th century, long before the 1906 earthquake and fire. However, as the subsequent San Francisco Symphony Association was not formed until December 20, 1909, the earlier orchestra isn't counted in its history, and probably no one in the Association even knows of its existence. One day soon, we will investigate the earlier orchestra further to determine whether there were enough carryovers in personnel and patrons to consider it a true precursor. So why does the Symphony not celebrate its heritage and history? The easiest answer is that the administration, the executive director, and the president are focused almost entirely on the present and immediate future of the Michael Tilson Thomas Symphony. Who is really responsible? The music director is in charge. The buck stops there. It is up to him to respect properly the distinguished history that produced the orchestra he is privileged to conduct. There will come a day when he himself will move on, and how then will his legacy be treated? What goes around comes around. The importance of knowing and appreciating history perhaps is less obvious than it should be today, because our society has become distressingly ahistorical in its outlook. Recalling the achievements, shortcomings, mistakes, and varied experiences of the past is vital to a grasp of the present and to finding perspective. That is perhaps truer in music than for any other field, because of the ephemeral nature of the art. Having recordings to refer to for their own sake and as an aide de memoire helps considerably. If, for example, the Symphony would dare to reissue recordings from its distinguished past, these might remind those who were there, and help inform those who weren’t, how great some of that music-making was. It might be discovered, for example, that Krips’ Mahler was deeply moving dare one suggest more moving than a more recent performance? and that the S.F. Symphony in 1985, say, while not as finely honed and rich in tone as the current outfit, could also produce performances that transported. Just being assured and reminded of that past can strengthen appreciation and support of the present. We have a distinguished tradition. Music criticism has, as part of its mission, the responsibility to convey a comparative sense of things, to remind readers that other violinists have played the Sibelius Concerto wondrously; that in earlier hands, this or that composition was actually very impressive; and the like. Sadly, there is too little music criticism today to fill that function, so it heightens the responsibility of performing institutions to convey the remembrance of “lost times.” ![]() Looking further among our institutions, the San Francisco Opera provides such a cursory history on its Web site that only basic reference is made to the succession of its directors. There are however, busts of Kurt Herbert Adler and Terence McEwen in the Opera House lobby. The company almost annually presents its Gold Medal for distinguished services rendered in the past. Periodically, references are made to past achievements in the program books. And in a revised policy since David Gockley has taken charge, the program books include such recognitions as an "In Memoriam" page, which notes the passing of musicians, singers, board members, and patrons. The San Francisco Ballet also deserves partial credit. The account of its history on its Web site acknowledges the seminal roles played by Willam, Lew, and Harold Christensen in founding and building the Ballet; and it even devotes a full paragraph to Michael Smuin's achievements. On the other side of the coin, however, Helgi Tomasson, from the outset of his tenure in 1985 as artistic director, dismantled not only Smuin's repertory but also that of Lew Christensen. The company and its audience have been deprived of many classics. Evidently, he saw those works as rivaling his own stature as choreographer. It is probable that not a single dancer on the roster today has danced a Christensen work, and that's a serious deprivation for the company, the audience, and the dance world, and a loss that history will not forgive. The Oakland East Bay Symphony's history on its Web site totally ignores the fundamentals of its existence and its predecedent orchestra. The fact that the original Oakland Symphony went bankrupt due to inept board and managerial leadership does not diminish the importance of the tradition, the audience, and the skilled personnel inherited by Michael Morgan and the Oakland East Bay Symphony. Under the music directorship of Gerhard Samuel, from 1959 to 1971, "the season expanded from eight to 24 concerts and the organization established a national reputation for innovative programming and community involvement," as stated in Autopsy of an Orchestra, a 1988 report commissioned by a consortium of six corporate, foundation, and state funding agencies. "[Samuel] supervised the formation of the Oakland Symphony Chorus ... [and] the creation of the Oakland Youth Symphony," which made five commercial recordings, toured internationally, won the Herbert von Karajan Silver Medal, and became the first youth orchestra to win the ASCAP Award for contemporary music, a feat it repeated twice more. In those 12 years, Samuel and the Oakland Symphony gave many Bay Area and California premieres, including Ives' Fourth Symphony and Berg's Lyric Suite. Its success reached the point that J.D. Zellerbach, president of the then-flagging San Francisco Symphony, struck a secret deal with the Oakland Symphony president to absorb the Oakland Symphony's board and disband its orchestra. It fell through when the Oakland Symphony president died of a heart attack the day before his board was to learn about the plan. The Oakland Symphony's season and audience continued to grow under its next director, Harold Farberman (1971-1979). Next, the tenure of Calvin Simmons was momentous from several standpoints. The orchestra's national reputation continued to develop and it won its second ASCAP award for adventurous programming. Simmons' untimely death in 1982 unquestionably affected its future. There would be three more years under Richard Buckley before labor troubles and finally a stand-off over a season cutback of 50 percent led to bankruptcy. Eight years later, with participation by musicians from the defunct Oakland Symphony, the orchestra was reorganized as the Oakland East Bay Symphony. You could say that the rest is history, except that, obviously, in common with several other organizations, this Symphony and its maestro don't recognize history. That's a shame, considering their debt to the inherited core of its membership and audience. Those who don't recognize history wind up not making it. Now, if you think that the great universities' music departments, of all places, would be respectful of their histories, you'd be wrong. The 85th birthday on April 6 of one of the University of California Berkeley's all-time greatest two composers and teachers, Andrew Imbrie, went by unnoticed by his department. It was celebrated in Boston by a renowned new music group, Collage, and at the University of Chicago, but not at Cal. Imbrie had only taught at Berkeley for 42 years, and lived there for 60 years. And then there was his teacher, the renowned Roger Sessions, who taught at UC Berkeley from 1944 to 1953, drawing gifted composers to study with him and sending them out on major careers. There's a seminar room in Morrison Music Building dedicated to a prominent musicologist, and a large classroom named after a former longtime chair and beloved teacher, but nothing named for Sessions. ![]() As for the Stanford Music Department coming full circle back to Sandor Salgo one permanent honor there memorializes its 97-year-old maestro, a scholarship in his name. It is an appropriate gesture, but not a public one. In his 24 years as a professor, besides teaching and conducting the symphony, he loaned the university operatic distinction for a time with memorable performances of Verdi's Falstaff and the West coast premieres of Stravinsky's The Rake's Progress and Prokofiev's Love for Three Oranges, as well as operas by Mozart, Gluck, Dvorák, Poulenc, Lukas Foss, Douglas Moore, and Dallapiccola. (The administration rewarded that by closing down the opera program.) A beloved lecturer, Salgo taught his Beethoven course for 10 years. One of his courses had the second-highest enrollment of any course at Stanford. Indeed, for his students, he was unforgettable. Students since, however, have no idea of his legacy. It's all history that is if anyone remembers. (Robert P. Commanday, founding editor of San Francisco Classical Voice, was the music critic of The San Francisco Chronicle from 1965 to 1993, and before that a conductor and lecturer at UC Berkeley.) Have an opinion about what you've read here or elsewhere in SFCV? Sound off with a letter to the editors. ©2006 Robert Commanday, all rights reserved. SFCV is a nonprofit journal supported by foundation grants and individual contributions. If you enjoy what you find here and want to see our work continue, please consider making a contribution. By virtue of a generous matching grant, it will be doubled. Your contribution (tax-deductible) may be made by credit card
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From September 1, 1998, to July 18, 2006, SFCV has published, in addition to our weekly features, Music News, and Listening Ahead columns, 2,460 reviews of Bay Area performances by: 52 symphony orchestras (518 reviews), dozens of recital presenters (427 reviews), 41 opera companies (344 reviews), 94 chamber groups (294 reviews), 38 new-music ensembles and programs (264 reviews), 51 early-music ensembles (195 reviews), 36 choral groups (155 reviews), 15 music festivals (104 reviews), 24 chamber orchestras (97 reviews), six musical theater groups (16 reviews), as well as numerous world music groups (14 reviews), youth music ensembles (12 reviews), and other organizations (13 reviews).
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