The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra is just over a century old. It was formed in 1916, originally as part of the municipal government before it was reconstituted as a private institution in 1942. That makes it more or less middle-aged as orchestras go.
When I met up with Marin Alsop, the orchestra's music director since 2007, I ask her if the world of orchestras has really changed in the last hundred years, or if it is as conservative and backward-looking as critics sometimes claim.
“I see why people say this,” she says. “There is a preservation of tradition that is central to being an orchestra. That ranges anywhere from the repertoire to what people wear. I think we’ve tried to shake up both of those areas. We’re actually about to unveil new outfits for the orchestra. They’re very classic. Hopefully they won’t upset any patrons.”
Originally orchestras were all about social engagement. We've tried to recapture that in terms of connecting to our community in a broader way
She views the current situation in many ways as “actually just continuing the original intent of a symphony orchestra. It was people coming together because they loved music. Originally orchestras were all about social engagement. Not so much about perfecting artistic excellence, but rather getting together and having a human experience. I think we’ve tried to recapture that, or reconnect with that initial mission, in terms of connecting to our community in a broader way.”
Her view of the community is specific rather than generic. “We have a very, very diverse community here, and our orchestra really is not very diverse. So we’re trying to effect a new reality for maybe two or three decades from now. We’re trying to set the foundations so that our orchestra will look like the community we serve.” Simply put, she’s talking about the fact that the population of Baltimore is over 60 per cent African-American, and the membership of the orchestra is anything but.
“In the meantime,” she says, “we’re trying to open up the doors to everybody. Through a variety of programmes. I think 100 years ago they probably did this in their own way, and the community was much more homogenous at that point.
“In terms of repertoire we try to be relevant. That’s a big commitment I have to contemporary music and composers who are living today. Baltimore is an excellent place for this. We started a contemporary music festival last summer and we had 2,200 people turn up. And in the lobby, 800, 100 people for a talk with composers. There’s an interest in new things, here. There’s a curiosity that might not exist in other cities.”
Initial mission
She sums it up as “just trying to carry on the initial mission of why symphony orchestras formed. It’s a human connection. It’s a social connection. It’s existing in the moment. It’s a kind of antidote, really, to the very digital world we live in.”
But don’t think for a moment that her words come as easily as talk of motherhood and apple pie. One of her first initiatives when she came to Baltimore was to set up a project called OrchKids. The idea, she says, “was pretty simple” and stemmed from the whiteness of the orchestra. “I thought, well, the reason is that kids of colour don’t have the same opportunities to play instruments when they’re young. So they don’t go into the field. I thought, why don’t we all – there were 90 musicians and me – just mentor one kid? We’ll make just like a mini-me orchestra.”
Everyone just shook their heads and thought it wouldn’t work. “It was just a concept, a dream. But we started having a lot of discussions about why it was a bad idea. We talked for six, seven months. We finally decided we would try it as a little pilot programme, an after-school programme in one school, with First Grade [six or seven-year-olds] only.”
When they actually went into their chosen school, “I realised right away, oh, this is much bigger than just teaching kids how to play an instrument. First we decided we would have a day when we would all just chip in and try to clean up the school. This was the real wake-up call for me. I filled maybe three huge trash bags with broken glass from the playground. I thought, why learn the violin? It’s the furthest thing from your mind, then.”
The challenges in terms of the children’s daily needs were even greater. “We got in there and then we realised they hadn’t eaten anything healthy in a long time. So I said, we gotta find food. We teamed up with a company that serves organic and healthy food for them every day. Whatever was left over we would leave on the school steps so that families could have it. And then their reading level wasn’t anything near where it should have been. So we got another partnership to come and tutor them in reading. It’s not just one thing.”
OrchKids started with 30 children. It’s since reached 1,300. The goal is to get to 10,000 within 10 years, which would reach one in eight of the children in school. “We realised we just had to take each kid and see what they needed. We teach music. Music is the gathering point. But it’s not the end point.”
Dream
It all evolved, she says, “as a living, breathing organism. We didn’t just say, here’s the programme. We went in and asked, what do they need? What can we do? My dream was originally an orchestra. And then we realised it’s really important to improvise. It’s really important to use your ears. It’s really important to have small ensembles, so that they can interact. So it’s orchestra, but it’s also now also a jazz band.”
The programme “showed me that it’s the power of making music together. Some of the older kids, who are now in High School, come back every day and teach the younger kids. If we didn’t do anything else, this feeling of responsibility and reciprocity is really important.”
They would never have left their block or their neighbourhood. Now they have a sense of the world. They go out and they perform
There are outside measures, too. “We have 15 OrchKids in the Baltimore School for the Arts, which is a very competitive arts High School. And last summer 40 of them went to the Interlochen Arts Camp in Michigan. Some have been to Munich. They would never have left their block or their neighbourhood. Now they have a sense of the world. They go out and they perform. They do about 50 concerts a year. They themselves raise money for the programme through these concerts.” The programme’s budget has risen from an initial $170,000 to its current $1.8 million slice of the orchestra’s overall budget of $28 million.
I got to hear OrchKids' 10th anniversary celebrations, a bucket band percussion ensemble joined by the city's mayor, Catherine Pugh, on the steps of Baltimore's War Memorial Building, and a lift-the roof concert inside with Nicola Benedetti as violin soloist and a sea of blue-sweatered youngsters performing with a nerve-jangling energy.
Conventional
The Baltimore orchestra's Dublin programme will be rather more conventional but still swinging – a celebration of the centenary of Alsop's mentor, Leonard Bernstein. It was a visit to one of his Young People's Concerts that imprinted on Alsop that conducting was what she really wanted to do.
The announcement of Alsop’s appointment as chief conductor of the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra interests her less as a first for women than as a relationship with a very special musical city.
It was through hearing the Vienna Philharmonic as a child that she came to understand “what a pianissimo could be”. And she feels a special bond, too, given the connection that Bernstein had with the city.
“I kind of have the vision that somebody’s got to be the first to do this. I’d rather it be me than some other poor person . . . I’ve been around the block, and I don’t mind it. I’m happy to be with an orchestra in Vienna that’s willing to take some risks, push the envelope a little bit. I hope by being there we can persuade some other institutions to open their doors a little wider.”
