One would suppose that those who know a thing from the ground up, I mean those who are personally involved with it, could also talk about it the best. But experience shows this is not the case at all. On the contrary, one frequently finds that the finest speeches originate from those whose relationship to their theme is theoretical, even purely “rhetorical,” and that speaking gets accordingly more difficult the more one is an active practitioner in the subject, that is, the more one stands in the midst of it.
Thus you, my esteemed audience, may be assured it will not be at all easy for me, who has been associated with the Vienna Philharmonic for many years as their leading conductor, to talk about them. When I do it, however, you should not expect that I will reiterate what has already been sufficiently said by everyone else. Thus I am not going to repeat or add to the usual hymns of praise about this extraordinary orchestra. That here, in Vienna, one considers the Philharmonic as the best orchestra in the world is quite natural. But the people of Amsterdam assert the same thing about their orchestra — we will soon have the opportunity to settle this question for ourselves.*
And elsewhere too, in Berlin, Dresden, Munich, and in Paris, London, Milan one finds a similar local patriotism, to say nothing of America. Let us just try to clarify what makes the Vienna Philharmonic distinct from other -orchestras.
To begin with, there is something external:
The musicians of the Vienna Philharmonic, as you know, choose their conductors themselves. This is something extraordinary — especially today, in this era of the authoritarian state. Nevertheless, it is no coincidence that the Vienna Philharmonic’s prerogative was conceded to them, even in the new Germany. In art, there is a peculiar thing regarding the principle of authority: If the outer -authority is not joined by an inner one, which is based purely and simply on the mastery of genuine art, then the desired and expected achievements will not come, because these are not possible without the inner readiness of the entire artistic team.
When I first came to Vienna, one of the leading conductors of that time described the Vienna Philharmonic to me, an orchestra that he himself conducted and knew well. He said it was a decidedly nasty orchestra, full of malice and deceit, which lived with their conductor in a constant state of seemingly inherent animosity. For an orchestra, this is surely a strange, not exactly complimentary judgment. Nevertheless, it allows one to come to the conclusion that these musicians are used to taking an active stance towards their conductor. I myself cannot corroborate this judgment from my own experience, although that should not be taken to mean that the gentlemen of the Philharmonic are particularly easy to handle as individuals. But one thing they are: they are all born -musicians, passionate about their work. As long as a -conductor allows the natural language of living music to speak, no member of the Philharmonic will ignore the conductor’s will. If they sound differently under different conductors, this doesn’t speak against them; it is only -natural. If, occasionally, the sound is such that you cannot believe, much as you’d like to, that you are listening to the renowned Vienna Philharmonic, that is also not their fault — or at least the blame is not theirs alone. To a greater degree than most, this orchestra expresses an individuality per se, taking its own position and expressing its own -opinion. By this, I don’t even mean the conscious attitude of the individual members, but something quite unconscious, which addresses itself primarily to the characteristic -musicality of the individual conductor, and which prompts the orchestra to instinctively and automatically take a stance for or against him.
When I first came for a longer time to Vienna — over 20 years ago — it was as conductor of the Vienna Tonkünstler Orchestra, which doesn’t exist anymore today but was an excellent orchestra then. I often attended the concerts of the Philharmonic, which at that time were conducted by Weingartner, and I was especially impressed by the strangely luminous, ethereal sound of the strings. Those “in the know” — who are commonly acknowledged to be quite numerous in Vienna — assured me this was caused mainly by the good instruments that the Philharmonic played. For their concerts they used, as they still do today, string instruments by the violin-maker Lemböck. Therefore, I approached this gentleman. Herr Lemböck very gladly entrusted me with the quintet of the Philharmonic instruments, for my Tonkünstler, and I had the means and the hope of now bringing my orchestra up to the same beautiful sound as the famous Philharmonic.
Unfortunately, however, this venture turned out to be a disappointment. In no way did the sound of my orchestra become more “philharmonic-like”. Finally, in the end, it was only duller and more lackluster than usual. We found ourselves forced to go back and pick up our own familiar instruments for the following concert. It is simply not the instruments that make the music — not even when we consider just the sound itself. It is neither the “school,” nor the expertise, but the human beings and their personal feeling for life that is responsible for the artistic expression, as the true working agents. Of precisely this the musicians of the Vienna Philharmonic, in their peculiarity, are a telling proof.
Now what is it that actually distinguishes this orchestra, in the final analysis, from others? What gives it its unique position in the world of European music? Since, during my career, I have had the personal opportunity to conduct almost all the top-rated orchestras on Earth, I can easily add a few words about this. What I see as the basis of the Philharmonic’s exceptional status — as paradoxical as this may sound at first — is that it is an exclusively Viennese orchestra. The individual members, as you see them here, are all, with precious few exceptions, bona-fide Viennese. Most were even born in Vienna. In any case, they’ve been brought up here and have been active here since their youth. Here it is the Viennese flute-, the Viennese oboe- and clarinet-school; here they are Viennese bassoons, Viennese horns, brass-winds, percussionists, Viennese strings. Without exception, the individual members of this orchestra descend from Viennese schools and traditions. This whole multifarious apparatus, this group of first-rate virtuosos, are all sons of one single region, of one single city. There is nothing like this anywhere else in the world. Within the population of no other city on Earth does music find such a wide field of possibilities; none has proven itself, as the popular expression goes, so music-productive as Vienna has. To be sure, specifically regional music — deeply rooted, if you will, in the soil — is also found elsewhere. In Paris they play music absolutely French, in Milan Italian, in Berlin German, partly North German. Such cities represent the musical focal point of large countries, and their orchestras piece their membership together out of the country’s entire population, hence the musicians come from highly diverse provinces and districts. Vienna, on the other hand, draws its strength exclusively from the native soil of the Ostmark [Austria]. Moreover, with regards to music, it is aligned to a high degree of uniformity, with a unique and definite stamp all its own. Indeed, the great pull that Vienna has had on musicians from around the whole world has always been downright uncanny. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Bruckner, and now finally Richard Strauss — what other city in the world has such names to put on display! Yet, Vienna — in contrast to Berlin — has, as a musical city, never been what one calls a global city, a music market, or an international music stock-exchange. As manifold as its musical life has been, Vienna always remained an unusual music haven, which was formed by the same musicians even as it was forming them. This is no different even today. Once, when Brahms was asked why he lived just in Vienna, he reportedly said: “I can only live in a village!”
Thus it is precisely this uniformity of the population’s composition that makes the Vienna Philharmonic a prototype of a people’s orchestra in the truest sense, the embodiment of an entire German region. And this same uniformity also creates and shapes the typical features of this orchestra’s musical physiognomy. Herein lies the basis of that particular fullness, roundness, and homogeneity of sound that really no other orchestra is able to exhibit, neither in Europe nor in America. How the nature of the sounds produced by the various instruments play off one another! How these woodwinds melt themselves together with the strings, these French Horns with the other brass-players, into a single whole of exceptional tenderness and grandeur! How clearly comes into expression — in every single phase — the shared musical feeling for life, which inspires each individual member of the orchestra! Just think how patched together in their various parts other orchestras usually are. To be sure, in the orchestras of Berlin — the Berlin Philharmonic and the Berlin Staatskapelle — there are also native-born Berliners, but they are the exceptions. Berlin was never a city like Vienna, which has produced year after year generations of musicians from out of whose ranks could be selected those required by such an elite orchestra. In other cities, Dresden, Munich, and the other European capitals, insofar as they can make a claim to a native musical life, it is no different. The greatest contrast, however, to the type of orchestra represented by the Vienna Philharmonic, is formed by those orchestras of international virtuosos, especially as they have appeared in the New World during the last few generations, whose members have been deliberately gathered from all over the world. There the woodwinds are mostly from the French school, the strings predominately from Bohemia or Austria, the brass-players from Germany. For plenty of money the best and most preeminent musicians from around the world are engaged together in order to form — at least with regards to technical skill — a most thoroughly accomplished ensemble. However many advantages such an orchestra may possess, in my experience none of them attains the distinctive warmth, tender fullness, and — as I have already mentioned — the homogeneity of sound of our Viennese. This is also understandable; the sound of the Philharmonic is a natural product. Nor can it be gained via subsequent sound-adjustments, or by technical drills, and thus it cannot be replaced by such means. By this I don’t want to disparage other orchestras, because great orchestras are, so to speak, individualities. Each of them, like this one, has their own strengths and weaknesses. One really should not compare them with one another.
Here I only want to point out the peculiar features of the Viennese. One can say that while an American -orchestra demonstrates in the highest sense what can be had for money, for a great deal of money, our Vienna Philharmonic — the way they are — is something that even with all the money in the world would be impossible to make, to have, to replace. I am told that it is a characteristic of a born Viennese never to leave Vienna except under extreme -duress. Perhaps it is thanks to this fact that Vienna was in the position, up till now, to create and maintain such an orchestra from its very own “stock.” In any case, experience shows that it’s always extremely difficult to persuade a Viennese musician, whoever he may be, that one could live elsewhere, too — that elsewhere, too, good music would be made.
It is not only the Philharmonic musician’s sound, itself, that is conditioned by the ethnic and scholastic -uniformity of their make-up. This uniformity is also noticeable in the unity of feeling, in the alignment of the musical impulses. There is in this orchestra a remarkable sureness in all those things that might be characterized as belonging to the purely vital sphere of music-making, an inborn strength and naturalness of the instinctive musical reactions. Herein lies the reason why one encounters all that is overly mental and excessively intellectual in music with hesitation and obvious misgivings — and why one rejects with a quiet but unwavering steadfastness all that is forced, merely willed, merely thought, all that wants to be more “progress” than music. If Vienna is sometimes -criticized by the outside world for an extremely conservative attitude in musical matters, this has — as one sees — also its good, also its positive side.
Perhaps it seems I haven’t remained true to my intentions, that I have only praised “my” Philharmonic after all. One will say that I — especially I — should have also perhaps mentioned the other side, the downside of the advantages — for all advantages have their downside — that I should have said that even an orchestra like the Vienna Philharmonic shouldn’t look down with derision on the discipline that has made other orchestras great, and that basically without top-notch artistic discipline truly nothing is gained; and that one shouldn’t confuse naturalness of feeling and instinctive certainty with that sort of complacency that is likewise so frequently seen in Vienna, which is only aware of times gone by, of sufficient possessions, and which confronts all that is new or somehow unusual with a consistent, often downright obstinate animosity. Perhaps one might conclude that in Vienna it is all too easy to fall into the danger of praising oneself, of being pleased with oneself. Regarding this I want to emphasize: artistic discipline, in the high sense, is best demonstrated I believe, when we — the Philharmonic and I — play music together, in our regular concerts. Everything else I’ve said so far about the musicians of the Philharmonic is not even primarily addressed to Vienna and the Viennese. They don’t need to be told who their Philharmonic is. Rather, it is to the rest of Germany, and the musical world of today, where it needs to be repeated and emphasized: What is needed, more urgently than ever in our present jeopardized state, is the sort of music making of this orchestra — which, in spite of all its loftiness and beauty, is yet so down-to-earth, instinctively confident, and flowing forth from natural sources. Especially in the new Germany, one should be conscious of what an incomparable treasure we possess in the Vienna Philharmonic and how, at the same time, we have taken on the obligation to preserve this gem, and to make it ever more effective.
May the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, in this sense, fulfill still for a long time their indispensable and grace-endowing mission within the life of European Music.
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