Book Review                                                              

Fritz Reiner:
Chicago Symphony Orchestral reign of terror

By F. MARK SIEBERT

Philip Hart. Fritz Reiner: A Biography. Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 1994. Pp. 329 with notes, appendices, bibliography and index. $30 (cloth).

Of all the conductors I have seen, two — Frift Reiner and Pierre Monteux — exhibited the most advanced technique, and there is no arguing with their musical results, either. Interestingly enough, several of the laudatory comments in Philip Hart's biography of Reiner pair the same names.

On the surface, the life story of a virtuoso conductor might seem of primary interest to musicians, but Illinoisans might find this account intriguing for the intimate glimpse it affords into the seamy side of classical music.

After arriving in Chicago in 1953, Reiner had the same basic charge as music director that he had previously been given in Cincinnati and Pittsburgh: build or rebuild the orchestra into a major organization. In each case he succeeded, possibly beyond the expectations or hopes of those who hired him. (Offhand, I can think of no other conductor who has done this more than once or twice.) In each city he contended with such obstacles and opposition that eventually he and the orchestra parted company with considerable animosity. How could such a great orchestra builder and admired interpreter of a vast repertory have such rotten luck?

Part of Reiner's difficulty arose from his relations with the players. A member of the Metropolitan Opera's orchestra during his tenure there told me, "The men hate his guts." He said that Reiner's explanation of his legendary microscopic beat was, "They're professional musicians; they need not be so tied to the music that they can't watch." As to his paucity of cues the line was, "They're getting union scale; the least they can do is count bars." Throughout Hart's account it is evident that Reiner always exercised a reign of terror. Yet the musicians also appreciated the superb results he obtained, so that is only part of the story — and probably a small part, since at least until James Caesar Petrillo negotiated an adequate union contract, musicians were a class of artistic peons whose sensibilities got little consideration.

Reiner's experience with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra is superficially puzzling. It had suffered the doldrums after Frederick Stock's tenure, and Reiner was to bring it back to its former excellence. This he did, and more. Probably the high point of the orchestra's remarkable recovery was the October 1958 concert in Boston, after which Arthur Fiedler told the players backstage, "You're not men — you're gods!" Why, then, did Reiner leave the orchestra in 1962 with so little "ceremony (less than in the other two cities), and why did no one from Chicago attend his funeral in 1963?

Photo by Dan Wynn, courtesy of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Archives Fritz Reiner was director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra from 1953 to 1962. Though he had an advanced technique, one of his musicians said, "The men hate his guts."

Politics explains why Chicago stands out. If art mirrors life, then the Chicago Symphony's situation is exemplary. There were power struggles within its lay management. Its lay board was concerned with sound fiscal management rather than artistic integrity. There were fights over real estate, concerning which of two concert halls the orchestra should inhabit. Management and labor seemed to have a sweetheart deal. Influential members of the press got into the act. In one fight the elder Mayor Daley even took a hand. Sound familiar?

Reiner's personality was as wrong as it could be for this situation. Any performing artist needs considerable chutzpah; he or she must be secure about talent, technique and value of the product in order to take the immense risk involved in performing. Conductors, perhaps more than most, need this unshakable confidence since they are the only absolute dictators left in the free world. Reiner set nearly impossible artistic standards for himself and, consequently, for his orchestra, which meant demands for talented players and control of them that struck his board members as exorbitant. He regarded his work as existing on the podium, so that he would not settle in Chicago and become part of its social life. This decision did not sit well with the board or the press and resulted in lousy public relations.

Hart summarizes aptly: "Though he could command absolute authority over a hundred musicians in an orchestra, he failed to comprehend that he could not exercise equal control off the podium. It was impossible for him to understand that the extraordinary skill he brought in communicating a musical conception to an orchestra, and through that orchestra to a public, had no counterpart outside performance."

Hart focuses well on Reiner's immense musical talent and his difficult personality. Perhaps he gives too much space to accounts of programs and repertory, although they may help to sharpen the portrayal of musical abilities for readers unfamiliar with Reiner's work through hearing it. I think, however, that Chapter XIII, "Reiner's Music," does this admirably and should perhaps be read before the accounts of his three musical directorships, beginning with Pittsburgh in Chapter VIII. A glance over the appendices on Reiner's recording and repertory will flesh out that picture. *

F. Mark Siebert, associate editor of Illinois Issues since 1984, is professor of music emeritus at Sangamon State University.

28/May 1995/Illinois Issues