The orchestra – and especially youth orchestras – is the greatest school for any musician. It has so many positive aspects that the good it does for musicians is invaluable. Just consider the artistic, pedagogical, and social implications of being part of an ensemble that creates in perfect harmony, the sense of accomplishment and cooperation that develops among orchestra members, and the bond they should ideally share. But what about the conductor? What do they do there? The conductor is tasked with a job that requires concentration and dedication. Some may feel that conductors today receive excessive attention compared to other musicians (and they’re right…), but they also bear great responsibilities.

However, the conductor, in addition to shaping the artistic outcome for which everyone is ultimately judged, also has another serious and multifaceted job to do. This is to create ideal conditions for the musicians (and the rest of the administrative staff) so that they can work without hindrance. They must address and resolve the concerns of their employees (primarily the musicians) so that they remain focused on the final result, try to satisfy fair demands which, if not met, greatly hinder the achievement of the ensemble’s goal, in short, to make everyone’s life easier and of higher quality. The older, dictatorial-style narratives have now passed, hopefully irrevocably.

Ultimately, the most important thing is that musicians play first and foremost for the person who raises their hand in front of them and gives them the signal, and the sooner one understands this, the better for the artistic outcome and their relationships. There’s a wonderful story I once read in a book, unfortunately, I can’t remember which one. It’s an account by a timpanist of the Berlin Philharmonic who describes a morning rehearsal with a guest conductor. As is well known, percussionists sometimes have extensive parts where they don’t play. He recounts how, “from where I was sitting and observing the orchestra, I could say we were playing well, but nothing spectacular, a rather routine reading of Brahms’ symphony {editor’s note: he doesn’t remember which one}. Suddenly, I heard a distinct transformation in the orchestra; we were playing better and with greater passion. I was puzzled because there had been no prior comment from the conductor leading us. The reason became immediately clear when I turned my head towards the wings and saw that Furtwängler [editor’s note: the legendary conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic before Karajan] had appeared and was watching us from there. That was enough…”