Books: Oboe Jungle


If the fruits of an incipient bureau, racy were resurgent support from the rich chauffeur-driven Main Line matrons, the cost was incalculable, he says, benchmarked rapidly as the predawn box-office lines of students with folding chairs dwindled and disappeared by the early’40s.

Once the bureaucracy was arranged and orchestrated, Arian goes on, Ormandy became only a compliant if visible and important cog in the smooth-running apparatus that, metronome-like, ticked out the tune that every orchestra member, stagehand and guest conductor had to follow.

And they followed with visible pleasure, with the obvious relief that followed the expulsion of a troublesome part.

"Board members not only point out that [Ormandy ] has maintained the artistic quality and reputation of the orchestra, but also speak glowingly of his complete dedication to the institution and his willingness to adjust to its economic needs, in contrast to the popular caricature of the prima donna conductor."

Oh, from time to time there was a stirring of the old embers of excitement that Stoki had nurtured, and a spark now and then still erupts, but, as Arian puts it so freshly, "The wheel which squeaks the loudest gets the most grease."
Singled out for special treatment, first chair players received higher salaries, bonuses for making records, were invited to Orchestra Association social functions, were featured in orchestra press releases and broadcasts, were assigned preferential travel accommodations.

Consequently, the competition for advancement in chair position became terribly important, Arian points out, in ways more tangible than ego gratification.

Most importantly, Ormandy could confer salaries higher than the minimum union rate at his discretion.

A key word throughout the book is the" Association," the unseen hand that guides Ormandy’s baton.

Frustrating all attempts at public accountability, the Association controlled not only the purse strings, but managed to make it constantly appear that the orchestra was in debt. Each year, large deficits were reported. The same chosen benefactors, almost exclusively from the Social Register, were asked to cover them. Attempts at getting public aid were labeled as "too political."

Indeed, in the Clark-Dilworth subsidy deals, the city infiltrated the Orchestra Association boardroom briefly in the person of then-City Representative Fredric Mann. In exchange for a .$50,000 subsidy, Mann was elected one year, then removed the next and further City Hall subsidies rejected.

According to Arian, this strange conduct sterns from two old Philadelphia stories: Mann, head of the then-rival Robin Hood Dell, represented an incursion not only by the City, but conjured up the specter of Jewish domination on the board at the expense of declining Main Line influence. It was, to WASP board members, cheaper to politely refuse public support and dig a little deeper into their own pockets than tolerate nouveau riche penetration.

Serious charges, and Arian takes pains to make them stick. In a revealing chapter on the social character of the Association, he documents the extent of Social Register control over Philadelphia’s most prized asset.

Of 24 founders, 19 came from the listing of the Social Register. Of 128 directors, 84 were SR’s. Of six presidents, five were in the blue book: only one exception, Curtis Bok, served at the helm for only one year and his social credentials were impeccable.

When Arian puts this question to the board, the answer is candid: