The Uncertainty Principal

It goes without saying that times are hard in the orchestra business, although there are modest signs that we may have gotten through the worst of it in a larger sense. (Then again, I'm just an eternal optimist...).

What makes it more difficult is the built-in lag time for any large non-profit organizations; the current season is largely based on funding that was either pledged or collected last season, before the bottom dropped out of the markets last fall. The market collapse, which has a detrimental affect both on corporate and individual donations (as well as endowments), will be felt much more acutely next season ('09-'10), when, perhaps (again, eternal optimist speaking), the economy might be staggering back onto its feet.

It all creates a tremendous amount of uncertainty - which then got me thinking about volatility and change versus normalcy and routine on a more personal level in the orchestral field.

An orchestral musician's life is predicated on a high amount of certainty; rehearsal and concert schedules are largely set by the beginning of the season (and if there are additions or alterations, there are rigid requirements about lead-time before the proposed changes), most repertoire for an upcoming season is set by spring of the previous season, musicians work with the same colleagues every day with little variation, and, except for a guest conductor the ensemble has never engaged before, one has a pretty good idea what to expect on the podium all year. The tenure process assures musicians lifetime employment barring extraordinary circumstances (career-ending injury, bankruptcy of the orchestra or diminishment of playing ability that is severe enough to necessitate a review process - an infrequent and often controversial occurrence). In an era of rampant job insecurity, orchestral musicians in a well-run organization have a enviable level of professional certainty.

I'm pretty well acquainted with this perspective on musical life, as a vast number of my friends (as well as my husband) are full-time orchestral musicians. I'm also acutely aware of how a conductor's life is on the opposite end of the certainty spectrum.

First and foremost, conductor don't have any sort of tenure system (unless you're working in academia, which is a world unto itself). This means there's a built-in endpoint for every conductor/orchestra relationship. From an artistic standpoint, this makes a good amount of sense; most conductors have a preferred repertoire (or at least certain composers they are most comfortable with), favorite guest artists, a particular approach to music-making, etc. Which can all provide new perspectives, deepen understanding of certain repertoire, encourage artistic growth in particular areas, etc. There is a perceived point, however, at which music directors no longer stimulate this sort of growth and discovery, because they have imparted all of their individual expertise to their orchestra (or so goes the belief).

The average tenure of music directors these days seems to hover in the 8-12 years slot - in stark contrast to, say, Ormandy, who after a brief stint with the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra (now the Minnesota Orchestra) went on to helm the Philadelphia Orchestra for 44 years. As Sam has discussed, selecting and hiring a music director is a complicated, multi-year process. What this means, practically, for conductors is that once you've landed yourself a music directorship and settled in after the first couple of years, you have to start thinking about what your next gig is going to be. For staff conducting positions, where the average tenure is more frequently in the 3-5 year range, this means that the minute you're named to a position, you're already job-hunting again.

It's a strange position to be in, and the built-in job insecurity can be really wearing on the psyche. A conductor's life tends to be a complicated matrix of current positions, future positions, potential positions and guest conducting that could be a potential position (and then perhaps a future position!). The jet-setting maestro who spends little time with their home band has been much bemoaned, but in a way, how can they be blamed, if they need to secure future employment, which is what it all basically boils down to? Because, in the end, we're just free agents. (Osmo, to his defense, spends a lot more time at home with the Minnesota Orchestra that do music directors of similar stature).

No grand point to make here, save the personal reflection that built-in uncertainty in one's work becomes exacerbated by global uncertainty. My question to you; what do you think of "term-limits" for conductors?