Leadership Ensemble

Whether or not the concertmaster for a piece is particularly vocal, or the core group unusually opinionated, Orpheus's members all demonstrate great faith in the feedback from the colleague who's doing a sound check. "It's a crucial part of what we do," says Bauch. "On stage, you can't hear how a piece of music sounds to an audience, so you have to trust your colleague's ear. We used to vote on that kind of stuff at the last minute. Now that our listening skills are more refined, I think we trust one another more." (Bauch also has had an opportunity to hone another of his senses -- just in case he'll need it on the concert stage: He's helped taste-test New York Super Fudge Chunk ice cream for his childhood friends, Ben and Jerry.)

Bauch notes that changing core-group participants and the concertmaster position has given each orchestra member an intensive course in leadership training. "I've always been a quiet person, but in this group, speaking up is a matter of survival," says Susan Palma-Nidel, 53, a flutist with Orpheus since 1980. "This experience has allowed me to discover strengths that I didn't know I had. Not only have I helped lead the group, but I've also been interviewed by the media -- something I never thought I'd do. If I hadn't been forced to do those things, I'm not sure that I ever would have."

Work: Musical Chairs in the Talent Market

Making great music without a conductor is challenging on its own. Imagine doing that with a rotating group of musicians. Despite performing music at the highest levels of excellence, Orpheus has no dedicated full-time members. Actually, it would be impossible for the 27 members of Orpheus to work for the group full-time and make an adequate salary. The most anyone can earn performing with Orpheus is about $35,000 a year. There are many reasons for this challenging financial environment, including a general decline in the popularity of classical music and a crowded, competitive landscape in the group's home city. But when you're in a profession where the tools of your trade (your musical instruments) can cost more than a house, it's no wonder that Orpheus's musicians must take on additional freelance opportunities so that they can support themselves financially.

Bassoonist Frank Morelli leads a life that's typical of a freelance musician. Besides participating in Orpheus, he teaches at Juilliard, Manhattan School of Music, and Yale. He's principal bassoonist in the New York City Opera Company's orchestra and in the American Composers Orchestra, and he also plays regularly with other well-known orchestras. In addition, he has his own woodwind quintet that tours regularly, and he performs as a guest with chamber ensembles. Orpheus requires that each of its full members plays at least 35% of its concerts each year; Morelli figures he performs at least that often. Although Orpheus provides only about 10% of his yearly performance-related income, he says that artistically, it may be the most rewarding work he's ever done.

When Morelli and other full members can't make a performance, Orpheus uses ringers to fill in for them. The cast keeps changing, but the performances must cohere. "It's like a wedding band," says an exasperated Harvey Seifter, who's trying to find a way to boost attendance and compensation. "You get a bunch of musicians together for one gig, and then they disband."

During any given year, about 75 different musicians will perform with the group, and sometimes substitutes perform more often than Orpheus's permanent members. Last year, at one Carnegie Hall performance, only about 40% of the full members were present, even though family and professional obligations have them clamoring for more in-town engagements.

With those statistics, it's only natural to wonder at what point Orpheus is no longer really Orpheus. How many members have to be absent before audience members are hearing some group other than the one that they're expecting? It would be easy to say that as long as a performance meets the standards that the group has become known for, then it doesn't matter who's filling those seats.

But to ensure that consistency of performance and to maintain its stellar reputation, the orchestra has adopted some rough guidelines that are somewhat similar to those that the Chicago Bulls used in the 1990s: When Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen were on the court, it almost didn't matter who else was out there with them. As long as the other three players were solid, Jordan and Pippen could lead their team to a championship performance. Likewise, Orpheus takes great pains to make sure that at least one member from each instrument section who's fluent in the group's leadership process performs at each concert.