Performing without a conductor: liberation or illusion? 

This clamour for liberation from ‘autocrats on the podium’ is presumably rooted in the perceived ineptitude of conductors, the aspiration for interpretative superiority, and more fulfilling music-making without them. But is the conductor really the principal cause of musicians’ disaffection? 

Orchestras directed from the leader's chair or by instrumental soloists are not especially revolutionary. Music history is replete with distinguished ensembles performing persuasively without the intervention of a conductor. 

The Soviet Union’s short-lived Persimfans (1922-1932) was the first and apparently only symphony orchestra to accomplish this feat, and performing without a conductor has primarily been the preserve of chamber orchestras or the now almost-extinct string ensemble. 

The Prague Chamber Orchestra, formed in 1951, was the first orchestra since Persimfans to be officially recognised as a conductorless ensemble. 

My own decades-long experience of performing without a conductor dates back to my teens, as principal bass of the 12-strong Archi Ensemble in Cape Town, and culminated in 20 years as principal double bass of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields.

The Academy of St Martin in the Fields was also in the vanguard of this movement and has, since its inception in 1959, accumulated unrivalled experience and expertise performing an extensive repertoire without a conductor. 

What set the Academy apart from all its rivals, though, was that its members have historically been versatile soloists and chamber musicians, who quickly and virtuosically internalised core interpretations that then provided the basis for an exhilarating spontaneity, and musical creativity.

A myriad debilitating challenges afflict conductorless ensembles, including the curse of competing musical agendas; the absence of a coherent and unified intellectual, philosophical and aesthetic framework; the lack of a shared musical vision; the deployment of conflicting and unsuitable musical and technical solutions; the lack of awareness and attention to the more complex questions of balance, colour, harmony and structure; and, worst of all, the unwillingness or inability to respond to compelling unspoken cues in human communication. In short, deficient ‘musical radar’, as these critical skills are euphemistically referred to by musicians worldwide. 

The absence of any authority or leadership in matters of interpretation invariably leads to the dictatorship of more assertive personalities, resulting in even further frustration for already disempowered musicians. The magic number at which the conditions for perfect cooperation begin to diminish is, by all accounts, five. Too many cooks can definitely spoil the musical broth.

Orchestral musicians undeniably have little, if any control over what, where, or how they play. Is it really the burning desire for better music-making that fuels the vociferous campaign to vilify conductors? Or does it stem from the crippling lack of sovereignty and the resulting frustration that characterises the current model of orchestral music-making? 

That said, some concerns about the role of the conductor do merit scrutiny. 

The legendary conducting teacher Ilya Musin suggested that anyone who aspires to mounting the podium should already have a distinguished performing career behind them, and the current trend of employing ever-younger music directors, principal conductors and soloist/directors, whose own musicianship is still less than fully developed, can fatally undermine musicians’ confidence. It is, after all, the primary responsibility of every conductor or director to embody enough professional experience and expertise to effectively harness the musical forces at their disposal in the pursuit of a unified and persuasive musical vision.

Some orchestral musicians also, a little cynically perhaps, suspect that the proliferation of soloist/directors is motivated more by the attractive commercial imperative of paying one, rather than two fees for a conductor and soloist, than by the promise of superior musical outcomes. There are sometimes more persuasive soloists in the ranks of orchestras who do not enjoy the opportunity or fees their artistry ought to command.

Read more: Do soloists make good conductors?

And then there is the scourge of the UK’s freelance model in which musicians flit from orchestra to orchestra. This instability further undermines any meaningful sense of belonging and diminishes prospects for the selfless commitment integral to musical performance. 

These frustrations and potential obstacles to musical fulfilment notwithstanding, performing without a conductor does not automatically guarantee better music-making, nor does the presence of a conductor necessarily degrade the prospects for musical fulfilment. Like the art of conducting itself, performing without a conductor is a skill that has to be learnt and continually refined. 

Many orchestral musicians persist in the passionate belief that they are musically and intellectually superior to all but a small handful of the conductors who have occupied the podium before them. 

But my own journey from instrumentalist to conductor has taught me much more about the music I already presumed to know. I am convinced that obliging every aspiring orchestral musician to learn to conduct would generate greater understanding and respect for this complex and often misrepresented art, as well as fostering a healthier understanding of the potential obstacles to musical fulfilment.  

In his book ‘The Culture Code', Daniel Coyle makes a compelling analysis of why certain organisations become greater than the sum of their parts, whilst others fall short. He concludes that the most successful organisations develop a healthy group culture that promotes interconnection, teamwork and consistency, by focusing on three foundational concepts: safety, vulnerability and purpose. 

Its relevance for every orchestra is inescapable, and whether directed from the leader’s chair, or conducted from the podium, the musicians’ ultimate duty is to the music. Attending to the foundational concepts identified by Daniel Coyle would prove central to musicians’ aspirations for total artistic freedom and meaningful self expression.   

Performing with and without a conductor are skills that ought to be cultivated early on, and should form an integral part of every musician's armoury. The conductor can at the flick of the baton resolve musical contradictions and disagreements, and should be recognised as an ally integral to the process of delivering musical performances exponentially greater than the sum of the parts.