Don Satz writes, among other things:

>Sometimes, I feel that I'm talking to the wind.  It's not evil or
>unethical to do things the smart way, admit that a business does exist,
>and hire the right folks to make it all come out well for the orchestra
>and its audience.  I'm beginning to think that orchestras are run no
>better than government agencies, and we know how bad they are.

Well, of course this assumes that orchestras should be run as businesses,
at least as far as their product is concerned.  I doubt, however, Don would
actually subscribe to all the ramifications of this.  Imagine, if you will,
a season of Charlotte Church, Shania Twain, Andrea Boccelli, Celine Dion,
and Elton John, all of whom would outdraw Beethoven or any other classical
composer you'd care to name and whom you would book to maximize your bottom
line, as any good business person would.

In this case, do we even have the classical product? Granted, it's pushing
Don's example to ridiculous extremes, but it raises a valid point about
programming.  I've said this several times before, so bear with me while
I say it again.  I have no fight to pick with programming any particular
era or area of classical music.  I may like some of it more than others or
actively dislike some of it.  If I saw a concert of all pieces I disliked,
I probably wouldn't go (I'm facing this dilemma now with the next season
of the Louisiana Philharmonic).  In this, I don't differ from most people.
However, if there was one piece on the program I did like or hadn't heard
before, I would.  A program of Bellini, Donizetti, and early Verdi would
turn me off as thoroughly as a program of Babbitt, Dallapiccola, and Varese
would turn off somebody else.  So for me, an eclectic program seems to be
the most attractive - the one which gives the greatest chance for enjoyment
to the most people.  Classical music's a big place.  There's lots of
streets to walk down.  If I'm in Paris, I don't want to stay inside the
Hilton all the time.  Nevertheless, my attitude is by no means general.
I've heard expressed the attitude that any music written past 1900 should
be consigned to the dustbin, even unheard, since "it has been proven,"
"people have shown," and "everybody knows" that audiences hate it,
accompanied with the petulance that walks out or avoids the entire concert
altogether, regardless of what else is on.  I'm tired of having to be the
tolerant and mature one.  I put up with other people's dreck; they can
jolly well put up with mine.

Furthermore, does an artistic entity simply confirm the prejudices of its
audiences or does it take the occasional risk? It's not a question of
educating the ignorant, but of introducing audiences to new, possibly
life-long pleasures.

Steve Schwartz