The Modern Orchestra Concertmaster: First Among Equals

The choice of a first violinist is the most important appointment that any orchestra’s music director can make, for the position requires not only superb playing ability and broad musicianship, but also grace under pressure, the optimism of a cheerleader and the finesse of an ambassador.

In the United States, the artist who assumes these duties is known as the concertmaster. Europeans state it more directly. The first violinist is called, simply, the leader.

The concertmaster’s job comes laden with both glory and gold. A concertmaster generally makes at least twice union scale (more than any other player, and up to $300,000 in some cities) and, in musical circles, he or she will be deferred to as first among equals--as the proverbial “jewel in the crown” of the modern orchestra.

But along with this remuneration and respect come equally vast responsibilities. Indeed, it may be truly said that the concertmaster sets the tone--in more ways than one--for an orchestra. He or she provides continuity when the music director is away (and most maestros are in town for only three or four months a year). The very sound that the concertmaster makes--rich, plaintive, lyrical or edgy--is often representative of the orchestra at large (the New York Philharmonic has generally favored a lean, intense sound from the first violin, for example, while Philadelphia has always opted for a lush opulence). And, over time, a concertmaster can come to have a profound effect on the orchestra.

“The concertmaster has to establish with the music director a consistent method of bowing, phrasing and overall sound, which in turn is conveyed to the string section, who make up the majority of the players in an orchestra,” said Leonard Slatkin, music director of the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington.

“The principal wind players deal primarily with the three or four members of their section, whereas the concertmaster has not only the violins but the whole string choir to contend with,” Slatkin continued. “The strings are the basis of almost the entire orchestral canon, and though there are pieces--Ravel’s ‘Bolero,’ for example--where the winds and percussion seem to dominate, it is still the strings that have the lion’s share of the workload.”

And so playing violin solos in an immaculate, spirited and soulful manner can only be a beginning. Much--perhaps most--of the preparation is done before the orchestra ever takes the stage. As Samuel Magad, a former concertmaster of the Chicago Symphony, once put it, “You study and decide according to the dynamics or according to the music, the interest, whatever it is--you decide what bowings might be used.”

What this means is that the concertmaster will go through any scores the orchestra decides to take on and mark them up, indicating not only whether the bows should be going up or down on a certain passage but many subtleties as well. The concertmaster’s markings will then be copied into the scores of other players. “Each bowing has its own inherent qualities,” Magad said. “A short bow. A long bow. A bounced bow. A legato-type bow. One drawn nicely, one hit hard. This is what brings variation and interest to the music, as we are trying to bring out the composer’s wishes.”

David Halen, concertmaster of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra since 1995, acknowledges that a precise job description is difficult. “What does a concertmaster do? You’ll get a very different answer from everybody you ask. Speaking personally, I see it as my responsibility to represent the orchestra--the conductor, the musicians and the management--in the community. And then, within the organization, I mediate between the board of directors and the management and the players. It is my duty to cross boundaries, to travel in all circles.”

It seems only fitting that a number of distinguished conductors have graduated from the rank of concertmaster--most notably the Philadelphia Orchestra’s Eugene Ormandy and the Boston Symphony’s Charles Munch--for the role of the modern maestro grew out of the idea of a performing leader. Until the early 19th century, all orchestras were led by a musician in the ensemble, whether from the keyboard or the violin.

“We have to be prepared to lead the orchestra at any time, at least for a little while,” Halen said. “If a visiting conductor is vague in a place where the orchestra needs clarity, I can help compensate for that through my gestures--shoulder movements and exaggerated bowing, for example. Almost all of the players in the orchestra can see me.”

Yet this must be done as subtly as possible, for fear of embarrassing the hapless soul on the podium. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’ve ever actually rescued a conductor,” said the National Symphony Orchestra’s new concertmaster, Nurit Bar-Josef. “But there are times when you do feel that the performance is riding on your shoulders a bit, that everybody is looking at you and latching on--like, Help! ...

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“This is one reason why the concertmaster must know the music cold,” she said. “I have to know the first violin part inside out, of course, but I also have to know what the clarinet is going to play in a certain measure, when the brass will come in, and so on.”

The concertmaster knows that anything can happen. Rita Shapiro, the newly appointed executive director of the National Symphony Orchestra, recalls one occasion in Cleveland, when the orchestra’s concertmaster, William Preucil, stood up in the middle of a performance and started whacking music director Christoph von Dohnanyi’s back with the tip of his bow. “There was a bee or a wasp on his back, and Bill didn’t want him to get stung,” Shapiro said. “It absolutely broke up the audience--and you should have seen the look on Dohnanyi’s face!”