A Season of Discord: Canadian Orchestras in Crisis

This article originally appeared in the Summer 2002 issue of Queen’s Quarterly, a journal published by Queen’s University in Kingston, Canada.
by Colin Eatock
One Canadian orchestra teeters on the brink of bankruptcy, another goes on strike, another loses its conductor in a bitter dispute with musicians. These incidents appear in the arts pages of our daily newspapers as isolated, disconnected incidents. Yet when all these calamities (and more besides) befall Canadian symphony orchestras in the course of one year – as they did in the 2001/02 concert season – they start to look like a disturbing trend.
There are those who deny any serious problem exists – and others who acknowledge it but dispute its causes, extent and solutions. But orchestral angst is not simply a Canadian phenomenon: it is afflicting symphony orchestras worldwide, and seems well beyond the capacity of any single organization to remedy. Most orchestras simply hunker down and concentrate on immediate issues.
However, in the last ten months, several immediate issues turned into full-blown crises; Canadian orchestras found themselves in the midst of what could be called the Season of Discord. The Toronto Symphony led off, announcing in September that it faced insolvency in two months if additional funds were not found. In Western Canada, the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra locked out its players in October, the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra followed suit in December; and the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra’s players withdrew their services in February, after an announcement that the ESO’s conductor would be let go in June. Finally, in April, the Montreal Symphony Orchestra – often hailed as the best in the land – was shaken to its foundations by the abrupt resignation of Music Director Charles Dutoit, following a union grievance against him.
With so many orchestras in this country facing so many difficulties, fundamental issues can no longer be ignored. Do traditional models for orchestral management and financing no longer work? How much public support is there in this country for symphonic music? How can orchestras, performing mostly 18th- and 19th-century repertoire find relevance in the 21st?
As with any complex issue, there are many forces at play: a struggle of old methods versus new ideas, a tug-of-war between unions and management, perhaps even a sea-change in the nation’s cultural values. Yet despite these powerful undercurrents, the Season of Discord often manifested itself, outwardly, at least, as a lack of money.
Over the last decade, the costs of running a symphony orchestra have increased substantially. Expenses related to marketing and fundraising have risen with the growth of these activities. The drop in the Canadian dollar has been harmful to our orchestras – particularly larger ones – making it more costly for them to engage foreign soloists and conductors, who must be paid in American funds. For orchestras, costs constantly rise while revenues may fluctuate unpredictably.
It has been quite a while since arts council grants have kept pace with costs. Six years ago, the Canada Council actually reduced funding to orchestras, only to increase it again in 1998 and 2000. Also, in 2000 and 2001, the Department of Canadian Heritage stepped in with two one-time grants of $5 million, ear-marked for the Montreal and Toronto orchestras only. If funding from federal sources has been erratic, some other agencies have been positively draconian. In 1996, the Ontario Arts Council slashed overall funding to orchestras (and other arts groups) by 40 percent – an action brought on by deep cuts to the OAC from Ontario’s government.
The OAC’s cutbacks hurt orchestras throughout the province, but perhaps none more than the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. After failing to balance its budget for several seasons, by last fall the TSO had accumulated a deficit of about $7 million against annual expenses of $20 million. The public knew that the orchestra had its problems – lingering resentments from a musicians’ strike the year before, the departure of conductor Jukka-Pekka Saraste, a simmering dispute between Executive Director Ed Smith and Principal Cellist Daniel Domb – but few people were prepared for imminent disaster. Only when the orchestra’s finances became utterly untenable did the TSO’s board of directors sound the alarm. It was much like the Titanic steaming straight for the iceberg – except that it happened in broad daylight.
On September 25 the TSO announced that it needed $1.5 million by November 30, that its board of directors would be re-structured, and that its Executive Director had resigned after less than a year on the job. “Ed came to the conclusion that while those problems which are financial can probably be fixed,” said a press release, “in his judgment the internal culture of the organization is probably beyond repair.”
Beyond repair or not, Smith had a point: while the orchestra’s financial problems were severe, it was also true that many of the TSO’s difficulties transcended money. Some of the orchestra’s other problems were touched upon during a panel discussion in the lobby of Toronto’s Roy Thomson Hall on October 16, organized and broadcast by CBC Radio 2. About a hundred people showed up for the event. Although negotiator Bob Rae (the former Premier of Ontario and now Chairman of the TSO’s board) hinted darkly at a “lack of civility” in recent private meetings between players and management, the panel – which included musicians and administrators – was at least polite.
During the course of the discussion, a curious thing happened: a “cultural generation gap” emerged in the room. Carl Morey, a retired music professor in his 60s, suggested that the city of Toronto would suffer a serious loss of prestige if its orchestra went bankrupt. In response, Globe and Mail columnist Robert Everett-Green (a man in his 40s) said that if the TSO folded, “half the town wouldn’t notice,” as the orchestra had failed to attract non-European immigrants to its concerts.
When the microphones were opened to the audience, Victor Feldbrill, a conductor whose involvement with the TSO has spanned six decades, stood up and complained, “Everyone thinks the musicians should take the fall – and that’s disgusting.” In contrast, National Post critic Tamara Bernstein (about half Feldbrill’s age) inquired if reducing the roster of players from 98 to 84 might be a practical solution to the orchestra’s difficulties. TSO violist Gary Labovitz frostily replied that it certainly would not be.
To the older men, whose memories reached back to the days when the Toronto Symphony Orchestra was a powerful symbol of the city’s cultural status, the TSO was worthy of preservation more or less as it was. To the newspaper critics, a full generation younger, the TSO was an outmoded institution – worth saving, to be sure, but requiring re-invention in the face of new cultural and economic conditions.
Other opinions were voiced in the community: the TSO had foolishly given the players a raise it could not pay them; the players had foolishly demanded a raise the orchestra could not afford to pay; the orchestra played too much Canadian music; the orchestra played too little Canadian music.
The TSO didn’t go bankrupt: the musicians took a 15 percent cut in earnings (compromising the raise they won in their strike), and the orchestra negotiated a loan of $3 million from its own foundation to see the season through, an arrangement far more complex than one might think. And while there are hopes that a refurbished Roy Thomson Hall, set to re-open this fall, will improve the orchestra’s ticket sales, it remains to be seen if the TSO has found any long-term solutions to its problems.
In the West, two lockouts left musicians in Calgary and Winnipeg picketing in their tuxedos. In Calgary, administrators demanded a 16 percent salary cut and a shortening of the season from 41 to 38 weeks. The players successfully defended their salaries but gave up three weeks of their contract. In Winnipeg, management attempted to reduce the length of the season and the size of the orchestra, but the musician prevailed in both of these issues. (A third Western ensemble, the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, fended off economic difficulties when its players voluntarily re-opened their contract and accepted a nine percent wage roll-back.)
The disputes in Winnipeg and Calgary were straightforward matters compared to the conflicts within the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra – right in the middle of its 50th anniversary season. Through an unusual sequence of events, the orchestra’s directors and managers found themselves at odds with both the players and Music Director Grzegorz Nowak.
The first public announcement of trouble came on January 8, in a press release that tersely announced the ESO board had decided not to renew Nowak’s contract, which was set to expire in June. The board’s president was quoted as saying, “we feel it is an appropriate time in the development of the Orchestra to consider alternate models of leadership,” but beyond that, no reason was given for dumping the popular conductor. In fact, the announcement followed several not-so-secret meetings in the fall, involving Nowak, some musicians and local businessman Michael Ritter, to discuss a thorough re-organization of Edmonton’s orchestral landscape. It’s not hard to imagine that the ESO’s board of directors might have regarded these meetings as a threat.
Most conductors have healthy egos, and Nowak did not take his removal lying down. Backed by a promise of $500,000 from Ritter, he went public with a plan to launch a new orchestra in Edmonton, in direct competition with the ESO. The players publicly expressed sympathy for their conductor, and a few weeks later they took action themselves. Following a Valentine’s Day concert they terminated their contract with the organization, demanding (among other things) that the orchestra be re-structured so that players would form a majority of its voting members. At the time, Chief Executive Officer Elaine Calder – a manager who is known for her business acumen and her no-nonsense style – spoke of “an attempted coup.”
While the ESO’s circumstances were exacerbated by a $400,000 shortfall in revenues in the previous year, the conflicts within the orchestra – like the situation in Toronto – transcended money. The crisis raised basic questions about how the ESO should be run, and who should run it.
The “ownership” of an orchestra is an issue that always generates tension. But in Edmonton this tension underscored the fault-lines that divide most North America orchestras into four power-bases. Conductors traditionally view themselves as the leaders of “their” orchestras, frequently claiming final authority in all matters. As far as most musicians are concerned, those who play the music are the orchestra: aware they could lose hard-won careers should their orchestras fail, they often feel they have the most at stake. Managers may believe that their own administrative skills are the driving force that makes such precarious enterprises even possible. Board members are inclined to take the view that the orchestra rests primarily on their shoulders, due to their volunteerism, philanthropy and legal responsibilities.
Of course, all these skill-sets are indispensable – and it sounds platitudinous to say that everyone must work together for an orchestra to be successful. Yet when push comes to shove, mutual respect can quickly evaporate. (While researching this article, I heard a manager described as “imperious and remote,” and musicians called “a whining bunch of bed-wetters.”)
Fortunately, the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra survived. In late March, an agreement was reached with the musicians, giving them a small raise and the right to select three of the ESO’s eleven board members. Nowak, however, has persevered with his plans to start a rival ensemble in Edmonton, and the ESO’s deficit continues to climb.
Just when it was starting to look safe for Canadians to go back to their concert halls, the Montreal Symphony Orchestra was struck by lightning – or so it appeared. In fact, trouble had been brewing for quite some time before a fateful statement from the provincial musicians’ union, criticizing MSO conductor Charles Dutoit.
The Swiss-born maestro first became Music Director of Montreal Symphony Orchestra in 1977, and raised the ensemble to international prominence. Under his baton, the orchestra recorded more than 80 discs, and was hailed by Gramophone magazine as “by far the finest French orchestra today.” All this put the MSO in a league of its own within Canada, and made it the apple of the Quebec government’s eye. Earlier in the spring, the province had announced the realization of the orchestra’s long-cherished dream: the construction of a new concert hall in Montreal.
Then came the lightning-bolt. On April 7, the President of La Guilde des musiciens du Québec released an open letter, demanding that “something concrete and definitive be done immediately to put an end to Mr. Dutoit’s offensive behaviour and complete lack of respect for the musicians.” The document continued in general terms, citing “harassment, condescension and humiliation.” Be that as it may, the letter’s timing suggests a specific purpose: Dutoit had recently called two musicians on the carpet and by all appearances was preparing to dismiss them. The union was fighting back.
In a profession where dirty laundry is rarely acknowledged to exist, let alone hung out for display, the enormity of the public statement cannot be underestimated. Dutoit’s response, four days later, was to offer his immediate resignation – bringing his action against the pair of players to a full stop. Elaborate plans for a celebration of Dutioit’s 25th anniversary with the MSO, set to begin in September, were ruined.
The shock-waves were felt throughout the music world. On one hand, Russian conductors Mstislav Rostropovich and Vladimir Ashkenazy, in a gesture of solidarity with Dutoit, cancelled their forthcoming engagements with the MSO. On the other hand, New York Times critic Anthony Tommasini sided with the players. In his article, argued that the days of autocratic music directors were over, noting that conductors James Levine, Michael Tilson Thomas and Esa-Pekka Salonen “have all proved that it’s possible to treat musicians as professional colleagues and achieve musical excellence.”
The MSO board made an attempt to bring Dutoit back, to at least finish the season, but he refused all offers. There was little more they could do than hastily convene a search committee for a new music director, but it may be difficult for the MSO to attract another conductor of Dutoit’s international stature. Canada’s top orchestra has now entered a period of uncertainty.
Indeed, things are starting to look bleak from coast to coast – but not everyone is pessimistic. Elisabeth Whitlock, Executive Director of a service organization called Orchestras Canada, recently offered this writer some hopeful facts over lunch in a Toronto café. “Thunder Bay is doing really well,” she said. “They’re doing some exciting things with the aboriginal community and in the schools. Kitchener-Waterloo really is a success story, there’s no question about it. Saskatoon is in good shape, and so is the Okanagan Symphony, in Kelowna BC. For orchestras to survive, they should be a part of their communities – they just have to be.”
Strange to say, it’s the smaller orchestras that are thriving, while the biggest ensembles have the biggest headaches. Of Canada’s eight orchestras with annual budgets of more than $5 million – Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal and Quebec City, plus Ottawa’s National Arts Centre Orchestra – most have deficits. (The NACO is a notable exception: run much like a European orchestra, with most of its funding coming directly from the federal government, it is debt free.)
In the face of these circumstances, it’s tempting to suggest that the managers in Toronto should fly up to northwestern Ontario to see how it’s done. If only it were that easy. As anyone from either Toronto or Thunder Bay would surely agree, the two cities are very different, and can’t be directly compared: successful methods in one place might well be a recipe for disaster in the other. Orchestras must find unique solutions that work in their respective communities.
But Whitlock also spoke of a new emergency. It seems that Canada Customs and Revenue Agency has taken a jaundiced view of the practice, common to most orchestras, of treating players as self-employed freelancers for taxation purposes. Conceivably, the agency could demand a three-year retroactive payment of Canada Pension Plan and Employment Insurance benefits – a demand that would probably push some financially marginal orchestras over the edge. In May, orchestral managers (and also dance and theatre managers) huddled in Toronto to discuss the matter, which remains unresolved.
Did anything good come out of the Season of Discord? Is there anything to be learned? For one thing, it’s hard to see how Canada’s orchestras can do much more than lurch from crisis to crisis without sustained and substantial government support. For another, the near-collapse of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra underscored the folly of sweeping problems under the carpet until they become life threatening. As well, musicians’ representation on orchestra boards may be an idea whose time has come – at the very least, it’s worth a try. As Whitlock points out, orchestras must find ways to make themselves more appreciated in their communities. And last but not least, conductors, players, managers and board members must show each other due respect – and realize they are all in this together.
At times like this it’s encouraging to look at the big picture: one hundred years ago this country had no permanent, professional orchestras; today we have 17 with budgets over $1 million, and that is a remarkable accomplishment. As well, it should be said that while Canada’s orchestras often have near-death experiences, they hardly ever die. In the last two decades there have been only three orchestral bankruptcies in Canada: in Vancouver, Hamilton and Halifax – and within a year, orchestras in these communities were up and running again. Viewed in this context, public hand-wringing by musical organizations may sound like the appeals of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. If so, we must also recall the conclusion to that unhappy fable: eventually the wolf really did show up – and nobody answered the boy’s call for help.
© Copyright Colin Eatock 2002
by Colin Eatock
One Canadian orchestra teeters on the brink of bankruptcy, another goes on strike, another loses its conductor in a bitter dispute with musicians. These incidents appear in the arts pages of our daily newspapers as isolated, disconnected incidents. Yet when all these calamities (and more besides) befall Canadian symphony orchestras in the course of one year – as they did in the 2001/02 concert season – they start to look like a disturbing trend.
There are those who deny any serious problem exists – and others who acknowledge it but dispute its causes, extent and solutions. But orchestral angst is not simply a Canadian phenomenon: it is afflicting symphony orchestras worldwide, and seems well beyond the capacity of any single organization to remedy. Most orchestras simply hunker down and concentrate on immediate issues.
However, in the last ten months, several immediate issues turned into full-blown crises; Canadian orchestras found themselves in the midst of what could be called the Season of Discord. The Toronto Symphony led off, announcing in September that it faced insolvency in two months if additional funds were not found. In Western Canada, the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra locked out its players in October, the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra followed suit in December; and the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra’s players withdrew their services in February, after an announcement that the ESO’s conductor would be let go in June. Finally, in April, the Montreal Symphony Orchestra – often hailed as the best in the land – was shaken to its foundations by the abrupt resignation of Music Director Charles Dutoit, following a union grievance against him.
With so many orchestras in this country facing so many difficulties, fundamental issues can no longer be ignored. Do traditional models for orchestral management and financing no longer work? How much public support is there in this country for symphonic music? How can orchestras, performing mostly 18th- and 19th-century repertoire find relevance in the 21st?
As with any complex issue, there are many forces at play: a struggle of old methods versus new ideas, a tug-of-war between unions and management, perhaps even a sea-change in the nation’s cultural values. Yet despite these powerful undercurrents, the Season of Discord often manifested itself, outwardly, at least, as a lack of money.
Over the last decade, the costs of running a symphony orchestra have increased substantially. Expenses related to marketing and fundraising have risen with the growth of these activities. The drop in the Canadian dollar has been harmful to our orchestras – particularly larger ones – making it more costly for them to engage foreign soloists and conductors, who must be paid in American funds. For orchestras, costs constantly rise while revenues may fluctuate unpredictably.
It has been quite a while since arts council grants have kept pace with costs. Six years ago, the Canada Council actually reduced funding to orchestras, only to increase it again in 1998 and 2000. Also, in 2000 and 2001, the Department of Canadian Heritage stepped in with two one-time grants of $5 million, ear-marked for the Montreal and Toronto orchestras only. If funding from federal sources has been erratic, some other agencies have been positively draconian. In 1996, the Ontario Arts Council slashed overall funding to orchestras (and other arts groups) by 40 percent – an action brought on by deep cuts to the OAC from Ontario’s government.
The OAC’s cutbacks hurt orchestras throughout the province, but perhaps none more than the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. After failing to balance its budget for several seasons, by last fall the TSO had accumulated a deficit of about $7 million against annual expenses of $20 million. The public knew that the orchestra had its problems – lingering resentments from a musicians’ strike the year before, the departure of conductor Jukka-Pekka Saraste, a simmering dispute between Executive Director Ed Smith and Principal Cellist Daniel Domb – but few people were prepared for imminent disaster. Only when the orchestra’s finances became utterly untenable did the TSO’s board of directors sound the alarm. It was much like the Titanic steaming straight for the iceberg – except that it happened in broad daylight.
On September 25 the TSO announced that it needed $1.5 million by November 30, that its board of directors would be re-structured, and that its Executive Director had resigned after less than a year on the job. “Ed came to the conclusion that while those problems which are financial can probably be fixed,” said a press release, “in his judgment the internal culture of the organization is probably beyond repair.”
Beyond repair or not, Smith had a point: while the orchestra’s financial problems were severe, it was also true that many of the TSO’s difficulties transcended money. Some of the orchestra’s other problems were touched upon during a panel discussion in the lobby of Toronto’s Roy Thomson Hall on October 16, organized and broadcast by CBC Radio 2. About a hundred people showed up for the event. Although negotiator Bob Rae (the former Premier of Ontario and now Chairman of the TSO’s board) hinted darkly at a “lack of civility” in recent private meetings between players and management, the panel – which included musicians and administrators – was at least polite.
During the course of the discussion, a curious thing happened: a “cultural generation gap” emerged in the room. Carl Morey, a retired music professor in his 60s, suggested that the city of Toronto would suffer a serious loss of prestige if its orchestra went bankrupt. In response, Globe and Mail columnist Robert Everett-Green (a man in his 40s) said that if the TSO folded, “half the town wouldn’t notice,” as the orchestra had failed to attract non-European immigrants to its concerts.
When the microphones were opened to the audience, Victor Feldbrill, a conductor whose involvement with the TSO has spanned six decades, stood up and complained, “Everyone thinks the musicians should take the fall – and that’s disgusting.” In contrast, National Post critic Tamara Bernstein (about half Feldbrill’s age) inquired if reducing the roster of players from 98 to 84 might be a practical solution to the orchestra’s difficulties. TSO violist Gary Labovitz frostily replied that it certainly would not be.
To the older men, whose memories reached back to the days when the Toronto Symphony Orchestra was a powerful symbol of the city’s cultural status, the TSO was worthy of preservation more or less as it was. To the newspaper critics, a full generation younger, the TSO was an outmoded institution – worth saving, to be sure, but requiring re-invention in the face of new cultural and economic conditions.
Other opinions were voiced in the community: the TSO had foolishly given the players a raise it could not pay them; the players had foolishly demanded a raise the orchestra could not afford to pay; the orchestra played too much Canadian music; the orchestra played too little Canadian music.
The TSO didn’t go bankrupt: the musicians took a 15 percent cut in earnings (compromising the raise they won in their strike), and the orchestra negotiated a loan of $3 million from its own foundation to see the season through, an arrangement far more complex than one might think. And while there are hopes that a refurbished Roy Thomson Hall, set to re-open this fall, will improve the orchestra’s ticket sales, it remains to be seen if the TSO has found any long-term solutions to its problems.
In the West, two lockouts left musicians in Calgary and Winnipeg picketing in their tuxedos. In Calgary, administrators demanded a 16 percent salary cut and a shortening of the season from 41 to 38 weeks. The players successfully defended their salaries but gave up three weeks of their contract. In Winnipeg, management attempted to reduce the length of the season and the size of the orchestra, but the musician prevailed in both of these issues. (A third Western ensemble, the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, fended off economic difficulties when its players voluntarily re-opened their contract and accepted a nine percent wage roll-back.)
The disputes in Winnipeg and Calgary were straightforward matters compared to the conflicts within the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra – right in the middle of its 50th anniversary season. Through an unusual sequence of events, the orchestra’s directors and managers found themselves at odds with both the players and Music Director Grzegorz Nowak.
The first public announcement of trouble came on January 8, in a press release that tersely announced the ESO board had decided not to renew Nowak’s contract, which was set to expire in June. The board’s president was quoted as saying, “we feel it is an appropriate time in the development of the Orchestra to consider alternate models of leadership,” but beyond that, no reason was given for dumping the popular conductor. In fact, the announcement followed several not-so-secret meetings in the fall, involving Nowak, some musicians and local businessman Michael Ritter, to discuss a thorough re-organization of Edmonton’s orchestral landscape. It’s not hard to imagine that the ESO’s board of directors might have regarded these meetings as a threat.
Most conductors have healthy egos, and Nowak did not take his removal lying down. Backed by a promise of $500,000 from Ritter, he went public with a plan to launch a new orchestra in Edmonton, in direct competition with the ESO. The players publicly expressed sympathy for their conductor, and a few weeks later they took action themselves. Following a Valentine’s Day concert they terminated their contract with the organization, demanding (among other things) that the orchestra be re-structured so that players would form a majority of its voting members. At the time, Chief Executive Officer Elaine Calder – a manager who is known for her business acumen and her no-nonsense style – spoke of “an attempted coup.”
While the ESO’s circumstances were exacerbated by a $400,000 shortfall in revenues in the previous year, the conflicts within the orchestra – like the situation in Toronto – transcended money. The crisis raised basic questions about how the ESO should be run, and who should run it.
The “ownership” of an orchestra is an issue that always generates tension. But in Edmonton this tension underscored the fault-lines that divide most North America orchestras into four power-bases. Conductors traditionally view themselves as the leaders of “their” orchestras, frequently claiming final authority in all matters. As far as most musicians are concerned, those who play the music are the orchestra: aware they could lose hard-won careers should their orchestras fail, they often feel they have the most at stake. Managers may believe that their own administrative skills are the driving force that makes such precarious enterprises even possible. Board members are inclined to take the view that the orchestra rests primarily on their shoulders, due to their volunteerism, philanthropy and legal responsibilities.
Of course, all these skill-sets are indispensable – and it sounds platitudinous to say that everyone must work together for an orchestra to be successful. Yet when push comes to shove, mutual respect can quickly evaporate. (While researching this article, I heard a manager described as “imperious and remote,” and musicians called “a whining bunch of bed-wetters.”)
Fortunately, the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra survived. In late March, an agreement was reached with the musicians, giving them a small raise and the right to select three of the ESO’s eleven board members. Nowak, however, has persevered with his plans to start a rival ensemble in Edmonton, and the ESO’s deficit continues to climb.
Just when it was starting to look safe for Canadians to go back to their concert halls, the Montreal Symphony Orchestra was struck by lightning – or so it appeared. In fact, trouble had been brewing for quite some time before a fateful statement from the provincial musicians’ union, criticizing MSO conductor Charles Dutoit.
The Swiss-born maestro first became Music Director of Montreal Symphony Orchestra in 1977, and raised the ensemble to international prominence. Under his baton, the orchestra recorded more than 80 discs, and was hailed by Gramophone magazine as “by far the finest French orchestra today.” All this put the MSO in a league of its own within Canada, and made it the apple of the Quebec government’s eye. Earlier in the spring, the province had announced the realization of the orchestra’s long-cherished dream: the construction of a new concert hall in Montreal.
Then came the lightning-bolt. On April 7, the President of La Guilde des musiciens du Québec released an open letter, demanding that “something concrete and definitive be done immediately to put an end to Mr. Dutoit’s offensive behaviour and complete lack of respect for the musicians.” The document continued in general terms, citing “harassment, condescension and humiliation.” Be that as it may, the letter’s timing suggests a specific purpose: Dutoit had recently called two musicians on the carpet and by all appearances was preparing to dismiss them. The union was fighting back.
In a profession where dirty laundry is rarely acknowledged to exist, let alone hung out for display, the enormity of the public statement cannot be underestimated. Dutoit’s response, four days later, was to offer his immediate resignation – bringing his action against the pair of players to a full stop. Elaborate plans for a celebration of Dutioit’s 25th anniversary with the MSO, set to begin in September, were ruined.
The shock-waves were felt throughout the music world. On one hand, Russian conductors Mstislav Rostropovich and Vladimir Ashkenazy, in a gesture of solidarity with Dutoit, cancelled their forthcoming engagements with the MSO. On the other hand, New York Times critic Anthony Tommasini sided with the players. In his article, argued that the days of autocratic music directors were over, noting that conductors James Levine, Michael Tilson Thomas and Esa-Pekka Salonen “have all proved that it’s possible to treat musicians as professional colleagues and achieve musical excellence.”
The MSO board made an attempt to bring Dutoit back, to at least finish the season, but he refused all offers. There was little more they could do than hastily convene a search committee for a new music director, but it may be difficult for the MSO to attract another conductor of Dutoit’s international stature. Canada’s top orchestra has now entered a period of uncertainty.
Indeed, things are starting to look bleak from coast to coast – but not everyone is pessimistic. Elisabeth Whitlock, Executive Director of a service organization called Orchestras Canada, recently offered this writer some hopeful facts over lunch in a Toronto café. “Thunder Bay is doing really well,” she said. “They’re doing some exciting things with the aboriginal community and in the schools. Kitchener-Waterloo really is a success story, there’s no question about it. Saskatoon is in good shape, and so is the Okanagan Symphony, in Kelowna BC. For orchestras to survive, they should be a part of their communities – they just have to be.”
Strange to say, it’s the smaller orchestras that are thriving, while the biggest ensembles have the biggest headaches. Of Canada’s eight orchestras with annual budgets of more than $5 million – Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal and Quebec City, plus Ottawa’s National Arts Centre Orchestra – most have deficits. (The NACO is a notable exception: run much like a European orchestra, with most of its funding coming directly from the federal government, it is debt free.)
In the face of these circumstances, it’s tempting to suggest that the managers in Toronto should fly up to northwestern Ontario to see how it’s done. If only it were that easy. As anyone from either Toronto or Thunder Bay would surely agree, the two cities are very different, and can’t be directly compared: successful methods in one place might well be a recipe for disaster in the other. Orchestras must find unique solutions that work in their respective communities.
But Whitlock also spoke of a new emergency. It seems that Canada Customs and Revenue Agency has taken a jaundiced view of the practice, common to most orchestras, of treating players as self-employed freelancers for taxation purposes. Conceivably, the agency could demand a three-year retroactive payment of Canada Pension Plan and Employment Insurance benefits – a demand that would probably push some financially marginal orchestras over the edge. In May, orchestral managers (and also dance and theatre managers) huddled in Toronto to discuss the matter, which remains unresolved.
Did anything good come out of the Season of Discord? Is there anything to be learned? For one thing, it’s hard to see how Canada’s orchestras can do much more than lurch from crisis to crisis without sustained and substantial government support. For another, the near-collapse of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra underscored the folly of sweeping problems under the carpet until they become life threatening. As well, musicians’ representation on orchestra boards may be an idea whose time has come – at the very least, it’s worth a try. As Whitlock points out, orchestras must find ways to make themselves more appreciated in their communities. And last but not least, conductors, players, managers and board members must show each other due respect – and realize they are all in this together.
At times like this it’s encouraging to look at the big picture: one hundred years ago this country had no permanent, professional orchestras; today we have 17 with budgets over $1 million, and that is a remarkable accomplishment. As well, it should be said that while Canada’s orchestras often have near-death experiences, they hardly ever die. In the last two decades there have been only three orchestral bankruptcies in Canada: in Vancouver, Hamilton and Halifax – and within a year, orchestras in these communities were up and running again. Viewed in this context, public hand-wringing by musical organizations may sound like the appeals of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. If so, we must also recall the conclusion to that unhappy fable: eventually the wolf really did show up – and nobody answered the boy’s call for help.
© Copyright Colin Eatock 2002