“Richard Strauss (1864-1949) was one of the most highly acclaimed composers of the 20th century. He was a leading representative of the German school of Romantic composers who set new standards for orchestration and tone colour in opera. But, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, with his father Johann Strauss being a prominent composer in Vienna. It was his father’s orchestra that gave him his first big break, composing two waltzes for them to play at the age of just six.”

Richard Strauss’s father was Franz Strauss, a horn player. Not Johann Strauss, the waltz king.

The ENO put this online in a “Beginner’s Guide to Opera,” and took it down after Norman Lebrecht put it in his widely read Slipped Disc blog, and they were derided.

But there’s more.

The Detroit Symphony put a bio of its music director in a press release, saying he’d been inspired by Mahler’s operas. Mahler wrote no operas.

I caught this, emailed their communications director, whom I know a little. He thanked me, and they changed the bio.

And from the Utah Opera, gushing about their production of La bohème:

“[Mimì and Rodolfo’s] duets, such as ‘Che gelida manina’ and ‘Sì, mi chiamano Mimì,’ allow the audience to witness their deepening affection and the genuine connection they share.”

Those are arias, not duets.

In one case like this, I know the mistake came from outside marketing consultants, people who don’t know classical music. Their work had to be proofread — with eagle eyes — and mistakes slipped through.

But I think it’s worse than that. To me it’s part of an overall dumbing down of classical music PR, which now — so much of it — has melted into empty gush.

I’ll say more about this. It astounds and saddens me.

It wasn’t CIM’s response at all, but instead a statement made in the past about another situation, which the Plain Dealer highlighted as if it was CIM’s response now.

They’ve now removed it, but I think using it in the first place was shocking behavior on their part. It’s a disgrace, and would have been no matter who their story was about.

What led to this:

Over the objections of his search committee, Hogle hired Carlos Kalmar to conduct the school orchestra and teach conducting. Students said Kalmar was brutal to them, above all to women. After an investigation –and the firing of the school’s Title IX coordinator — the administration absolved Kalmar, on the narrow grounds that his treatment of women wasn’t bad enough to count as harassment.

My wife, Anne Midgette, scheduled to give a commencement speech and be given an honorary doctorate, heard from students and faculty, saw what was going on, and pulled out.

Students protested, supported by many faculty, going on strike at an orchestra rehearsal, refusing to play. There were stories in the Chicago Tribune and in VAN magazine, with one VAN story very detailed, not just about Kalmar, but about wider problems, including financial ones: https://van-magazine.com/mag/cleveland-institute-of-music-carlos-kalmar-discrimination-bullying/

CIM’s position, voiced most strongly by the chair of their board of directors, was that a small mob of malcontents was making trouble. The school’s trumpet professor — principal trumpet of the Cleveland Orchestra and one of the most distinguished and long-serving members of the faculty — resigned after he said he’d received a strict letter from the administration accusing him of saying things he hadn’t actually said.

Kalmar was placed on a leave of absence, which I’d think was a forced concession by the school, one they pretty much had to make, if the students wouldn’t play for him. (He’s now suing CIM.)

And now this faculty statement, which surfaced yesterday, on Norman Lebrecht’s blog, Slipped Disc. Here it is. Scathing:

_The CIM Faculty has voted No Confidence in President Paul Hogle and Provost Scott Harrison._

_Regarding Paul Hogle, the vote was **83 to 8** (91% in favor of the resolution of No Confidence)._

_Regarding Scott Harrison, the vote was **81 to 10** (89% in favor of the resolution of No Confidence)._

_These results will be sent to Susan Rothmann, Chair of the CIM Board. The resolutions are as follows:_

_Paul Hogle_

_WHEREAS CIM faces its most dangerous financial situation in decades, is running its first budget deficit in decades, and faces the difficulty of recruiting students with an uncompetitive discount rate for the foreseeable future;_

_WHEREAS President Paul Hogle has overseen a debilitating turnover of over 120 members of the staff, including eighteen in Development (including seven Chief Development Officers), eleven in Concerts and Events, ten in the Deans Office, nine in Marketing, and eight in Admissions, as well as unprecedented levels of resignations, causing substantial problems with continuity, institutional knowledge, and competency;_

_WHEREAS President Hogle appointed Scott Harrison to the position of Provost, who lacks any of the traditional qualifications, credentials, and experience required for the role of Provost to the position, leading to serious mismanagement of the Institute’s academic and artistic affairs, as well as repeated actions in violation of traditional academic standards and norms, as well as CIM and HLC policies;_

_WHEREAS President Hogle disregarded and/or ignored repeated complaints by students, staff, and faculty about the orchestra situation at CIM during the 2022-23 season, including ignoring the recommendations of the Orchestra 2.0 Task Force, as well as a fall 2022 survey of CIM orchestral musicians which was damning in its result;_

_WHEREAS President Hogle’s leadership style is ill-suited to an academic environment which relies on consensus-building and compromise in decision-making;_

_WHEREAS President Hogle accepted a raise of $111,282 (26.3%) between the 2021 and 2022 fiscal years while simultaneously guiding CIM into its first deficit in 30 years and advising faculty that merit-based or cost-of-living raises would not be expected for several years;_

_WHEREAS morale among faculty and staff is at a level detrimental to the functioning of the institution and advancement of its mission;_

_WHEREAS the once-great reputation of CIM has been severely diminished at a national and international level;_

_WHEREAS the aforementioned misdeeds have significantly jeopardized CIM’s ability to pass its 2025 comprehensive HLC accreditation site visit;_

_WHEREAS CIM is hungry for new, positive leadership which looks to the future and understands the educational challenges — and opportunities — facing the Institute and the young musician of the 21st century in a rapidly changing landscape. CIM needs leadership which will restore morale, inspire the faculty and staff, and renew trust in the Office of the President. CIM needs a leader with the temperament, education, academic experience, and shared values to lead us into our next century;_

_Therefore, we the Faculty of the Cleveland Institute of Music are expressing a vote of NO CONFIDENCE in Paul Hogle._

_Scott Harrison_

_WHEREAS Scott Harrison was appointed Provost by the President despite lacking the traditional credentials (an earned doctorate degree and extensive academic administrative experience, often as a dean or senior faculty member intimately familiar with the norms and standards of academia and the concept and role of shared governance) required for the role of provost at an institution of higher education;_

_WHEREAS Provost Harrison has zero prior experience in academic administration and has never served on a university faculty senate, academic committee, or other governing body and has never managed an academic department or college;_

_WHEREAS his lack of credentials and relevant experience have led Provost Harrison to repeatedly violate norms of shared governance, disregard faculty consultation, and make decisions detrimental to the Institute, including:_

_– Overseeing alarming faculty/staff turnover due to toxic working conditions, stagnant salaries, and one-year contracts_

_– Showing a lack of fundamental understanding of basic management of academic areas and ensembles, leading to serious logistical and artistic issues that negatively impact the quality of offerings and well-being of students_

_– Attempting to unilaterally restructure the faculty in disregard for the role of shared governance and commonly accepted established academic norms and procedures_

_– Creation and modification of academic programs without the approval of faculty or the Curriculum Committee, as outlined in institution policy_

_– Refusing transparency in appointing a new Title IX investigator, causing confusion and distrust_

_– Replacing a unanimously supported department head without proper faculty consultation and against clearly defined policy, as outlined in the Faculty Handbook_

_– Refusing to follow standards of academic pay and benefits to candidates to join the faculty, resulting in loss of competitive talent to peer institutions_

_WHEREAS Provost Harrison’s lack of qualifications and actions have compromised CIM’s accreditation standards with the Higher Learning Commission;_

_WHEREAS the faculty have lost all confidence and trust in Provost Harrison’s ability to fulfill the duties of the position;_

_Therefore, we the Faculty of the Cleveland Institute of Music are expressing a vote_ _of NO CONFIDENCE in Scott Harrison._

Greg back again. Hogle and Harrison — how can they survive this? Likewise, I’d think, much of the board, Susan Rothmann especially, since, if the charges are accurate, the board enabled it all.

CIM will be saved, we can hope. This seems like a crucial first step.

This just in, as I’m posting:

The Cleveland Plain Dealer, Cleveland’s newspaper, today has a long and notably unsparing story about this, with many details, including quotes, from the faculty statement. They yesterday asked CIM to respond, but apparently got no response by the time their story was published.

It’s been so long since I’ve last posted. So it’s good to get replies to my post, encouraging ones.

There’s just one thing, though. I talked about a book on the history of American orchestras, covering maybe the last 60 years. So much of what happened isn’t known publicly, and may never be.

But I won’t write that book. I do know parts of the history, things I’ve picked up in various ways, partly from my old work as a journalist, and a lot from working inside the orchestra field.

But I don’t know enough to write a history, and don’t know if I — or anyone — could ever find out what would need to be known.

A history ought to be more than a collection of anecdotes. Take my story about the Columbus, Ohio Symphony, building a PR campaign that said the sound of the orchestra was as thrilling as the roar of a Harley. Having forgotten that their main corporate sponsor was Honda, which makes motorcycles and competes with Harley-Davidson.

To say that much is an anecdote. For a history, we’d need more. How’d the campaign do? Did it succeed in any way, or did it fail? And what was the fallout from Honda’s understandable anger? Did they stop giving money, or give less?

And then inside the orchestra, what was the fallout? Was anyone fired, reprimanded?

Then — and here’s where things get really hard — what was the larger context? How many other orchestras took their marketing down new paths? What were the results? Were there any other outright blunders?

To find this out — to see whether Columbus was at all typical of what went on in the field back then, or was an outlier — I’d have to ask dozens of orchestras, maybe 100 or more. Where people may no longer remember what happened in the 1990s, or won’t want to tell me. Since American orchestras aren’t famous for transparency.

So then I’d have to find other sources, just ask, ask, ask, till I found people who knew what I wanted to know, and would tell me. That could take months, hours each week on the phone.

I’d only give time like that to a project close to my heart, which this isn’t. It’s interesting, no doubt of that.

But it’s not what I’d most like to do. Especially since there’s no guarantee of success.

There’s no archive, by the way, where info like this can be found. And, as I’ve found over many years, the League of American Orchestra doesn’t have what I’d need. Asking them is like asking any other possible word of mouth source. People there might have information, or might not.

The institution doesn’t have it, so I’d just be interviewing whatever staff members might talk to me.

And there are worse difficulties. The orchestra that, in the mid-2000s, projected its demise — I couldn’t say which orchestra it was, because I’d learned of their crisis at private discussions I was at.

But to write a real history, I’d have to name that orchestra. To do that, I’d have to find people willing to tell me what happened, knowing I’d put what they told me in the book. That’s another 20, 30, or more phone calls, with no guaranteed result.

The orchestra would never tell me, for publication. They wouldn’t want it known, any more than they did at the time.

And I’d need to know more than I put in the post. Not just that the orchestra projected its death, but how that happened. Who first made the projection? How was it received? Did some people there not want to believe it?

And the solution they found (which I also can’t name, because to name it would out the orchestra). Who at the orchestra proposed it? Was there quick agreement, or was there doubt? Were alternate fixes proposed?

And did the fix the adopted work right away, or were there glitches? Was it clear from the start that it likely would work, or was there doubt?

And then how has it held up, over around 20 years? Is it still working? Or could it be starting to fail?

Who knows these things, and would tell me about them? In a field which, as I’ve said, isn’t known for transparency?

I’m not young, and could spend the rest of my good years working on this, without ever finishing.

I just can’t go there.

But now I’ve been posting on Facebook, and thought I’d put one of those posts here, one of a series I’ve done on the unwritten — and, most likely, never to be written — history of American orchestras.

I’m curious to see who reads it here. I’ll have to promote the blog again, of course. But I’ll just start with this post. You can comment, if you see it!

***

Sometime in the 1990s, the Columbus (Ohio) Symphony launched a marketing campaign based on motorcycles.

They’d seen research, showing that Harley riders had the same demographic as their subscribers. So they launched their campaign, saying that the sound of their orchestra was as thrilling as a Harley’s roar.

Which didn’t make sense to me, because Harley riders and their subscribers surely had different psychographics (as marketers would say). Different states of mind, different lifestyles, even if their age and income were similar.

But there was a bigger problem. The orchestra’s main corporate funder was Honda, which makes cars, yes, but also motorcycles. They’re Harley’s competitor.

Honda was not happy.

I knew about this because I was writing about new things classical music institutions were doing. I talked to people at the orchestra when they launched the campaign, and then later, to see how it had gone.

And now I’m thinking that this bit of orchestra history might be lost forever, along with much else like it. Has anyone chronicled the history of US orchestras, from maybe the 1960s to the present? Will anyone publish a book?

The 1990s, along with the early 2000s, were an interesting time, because orchestras were trying to adapt to the culture around them (as they’d never done before), so they could find a new audience.

As they did this, they made strange mistakes. The New York Philharmonic — I wrote about this, too — reached out to teenagers. With a tagline something like, “Let us show you that classical music can be as much fun as classic rock.”

But in the ’90s, it was the teens’ parents who liked classic rock, not the teens. When I told this to top staff at the Phil, they (if I remember right) at first wouldn’t believe me,

Later, in the 2000s, one of the largest American orchestras put its first video online. I won’t name the orchestra, because what happened never was public.

The video publicized an upcoming concert performance of Tosca. Someone I knew high up on the staff emailed to ask what I thought of it.

I was amazed. On the video, a not quite professional pianist and singer performed Tosca’s big aria, Vissi d’arte. With the pianist playing wrong notes. And telling the opera’s story, with lots of mistakes.

My advice? Take that thing down yesterday!

As I remember, from what I was told, no one on the full-time staff knew how to make videos. So someone who worked there part-time volunteered.

I don’t blame the orchestra much for this. New times, new things. New procedures. It all has to be learned.

There’s much more history. Including (and this is big) one of the absolute top American orchestras in 2004 making scary financial projections — projections so scary that it predicted (in private, of course) that by 2010 it would go out of business.

And then, with a brilliant move, it saved itself.

I know about this because I was at two gatherings, first when the orchestra’s board chair showed the projections. And then when its executive director —with budgets showing red ink turning to black — showed how they saved themselves.

All part of the unknown history of American orchestras. A history I know a little about, because, at least sometimes, I was in the right places, at the right times.

But it’s a history that, I fear. will never be written.

I’ll post more on this.

It’s in the catacombs under Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. No Internet there!

But it’ll be filmed, and there will be video available later on.

Sorry for the misinfo! If that’s a word. Should be!

July 8 — two variations I’ve written on “America the Beautiful,” for Min Kwon’s America/Beautiful project.

Me and more than 70 other composers! Unfolding online July 4, with live performances July 7 and 8. I’ll be on the July 8 concert.

Not all composers on every performance, of course! Not even Min would have the stamina for that, and I’m sure the audience wouldn’t, no blame to them.

But wait…what IS that?

Min commissioned variations from more than 70 composers. I wrote two. 

Pause now…to imagine her learning them all. 

That’s what I wrote in my newsletter. Adding that Min’s got boundless energy. And that she’s a pleasure to work with!

 She’ll unveil her commissions from July 4 to July 9, streaming and live. With my pieces coming July 8, both ways. The live performance is on Andrew Ousley’s “Death of Classical”series at Green-wood Cemetery in New York. Info and tickets here.

And you can read my newsletter here.

About my two variations, a little teaser: 

One of them turns “America the Beautiful” into 1950s rock & roll. A doowop ballad, of the kind I danced to in 7th grade. With the lights out! Still the sexiest music I know. (Well, except for Prince’s “Slow Love.” I’ll have to post more on that hot and sultry song.) 

The other variation uses fragments of  “America the Beautiful” as the backbone of a playful 12-tone piece. Let’s call it another tribute to the 1950s, since (in the new music bubble inside classical music) 12-tone music was big then. 

There’s a joke in the rock & roll piece. Midway through, I jack up the key a half step. An old pop song trick, to build a big climax. 

But I turn that around. I use the new key to calm the piece down, so it ends very quietly. Almost with the sound of bells, fading into a peaceful dance beat. 

More on all this coming!

I haven’t blogged in a long time.

I’ve been quiet lately. Not storming the world with ideas about the future of classical music. Just peacefully teaching at Juilliard (remotely, of course), doing some composing, doing some consulting.

That’s how I started a newsletter I’ve sent out. My first in quite awhile. It marks a reemergence into a life more public than I’ve lately had.

In part I’m motivated by a performance of my music, coming up soon, both live and streaming. This is part of a big project launched by pianist Min Kwon, called America/Beautiful.

To quote my newsletter, about the two pieces I’ve written for this:

These are variations on “America the Beautiful.” Min commissioned variations from more than 70 composers.

Pause now…to imagine her learning them all.

But she’s got boundless energy. A pleasure to work with!

She’ll unveil her commissions from July 4 to July 9, streaming and live. With my pieces coming July 8, both ways.

More details coming!

You can read my newsletter here. And you can subscribe to it.

Also from the newsletter:

My spiritual life is more central to me now. Caring, forgiveness, and peace.…

But I haven’t talked about it much before. Let it quietly emerge. Of course it centers my teaching. And, I hope, all of my life.

There’s so much I’ll share. On Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and here.

I was interviewing them in LA in 1988 or ’89, when I was pop music critic for the LA Herald-Examiner. I’d long liked them, as I remember serious rock critics tended to. I know Greil Marcus did. I loved their delirious rhythm, their intelligence, and Neil Tennant’s deadpan singing, which somehow made room for both the intelligence and the delirium.

But a friend of mine back then called them “disco trash.” That must have been a hangover from the “disco sucks” backlash of 10 years earlier. And which we now know had a racist and homophobic tinge, disco having been the music of blacks, Latinos, and gay men, while the backlash came from straight white male rock fans.

I’d guess my friend was free of that darkness. She just didn’t like electronic dance rhythms, which of course now run right through the heart of mainstream pop.

So when I met Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe in their LA hotel room, I told them my friend called their music “disco trash.”

“We love disco trash!” they said. “What music does _she_ like?”

“U2 and Springsteen,” I said.

“We should turn some U2 or Springsteen song into disco trash,” they said. And then, so happily: “Don’t print that! We really might do it.”

And they did. They made a delicious version of U2″s “Where the Streets Have No Name,” and for extra fun made it slide into Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.” As if to say that U2 was no better than Frankie Valli, with Tennant’s deadpan voice making sly fun of Bono’s striving, his yearning toward something just out of his reach.

I don’t know if Tennant and Lowe remember this, or if they’d admit to it. But I love being part of it.

That happened in LA, late in the 1980s, when I was pop music critic for the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner, a now long-defunct daily newspaper. Ice-T — now best known as an actor, a regular on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit — was the leading rapper in town. So it was natural for me to interview him.

Before the second time I did that, I went to a live show he did, and heard something that appalled me. To get the crowd going, rappers then would shout, “All the ugly people keep quiet!” But Ice-T took that further. He shouted, “Everyone with AIDS keep quiet.”

After we’d finished the interview, I told him I didn’t like what he’d said. I said he was making fun of people who were sick. And that maybe he thought no one in his community had AIDS, but he was wrong.

His first answer was that it wasn’t him who shouted that line, but someone in his posse. Maybe my memory was wrong, and maybe that was true. But it was his show, so he was responsible.

Then he said that the only gay man he knew was the head of his record label. Which was one of the big Warner Bros. labels (as they were called then), and the man he named was certainly gay.

“But not only gay men get AIDS,” I said.

He thought for a moment, and then, like the honest man I’d found him to be, said, “You’re right. I won’t say that again.

A few years later, I heard him tell this story himself, when he spoke on a panel at a big pop music conference. He said he’d learned something. Of course I was gratified. But more than that, I admired him.

I thought of this because tomorrow it’s my turn to be interviewed, about my journalist years, by Todd Burns, for his newsletter and website, Music Journalism Insider. I was thinking back over my work, about how I thought of myself mainly as a critic and a writer of analytical pieces. But then I remembered some special things that happened when I did interviews, the Ice-T moment being the most special of all.

But there’s more! Next — how something I said inspired the Pet Shop Boys to make one of their wittiest records.