The Worst Symphony Orchestra in the World

by Harold W. Kohn
Columbus, Ohio


I bought my first musical instrument in 1937. It was a Boehm system metal B-flat clarinet, slightly used, and my recollection is that it cost $22. It wasn't a bad instrument considering the price and the times, but it wasn't good either. I intended to learn to play it, of course, although somehow I had managed to get through high school without being contaminated by a single course in music. I was then seventeen years old.

My friend who had helped me buy the instrument showed me how to hold it and blow it, lent me a fingering chart, gave me a few coaching lessons, and discreetly retired. After three months of self tutoring, and tiring of Langey's method, I started to look around for an orchestra in which to play. Much to my surprise and delight, I found one which rehearsed weekly only three blocks away from my home. It was called the John Reed Orchestra (after the John Reed chapter of the International Ladies Garment Worker's Union). I am now sure that it was the worst symphony orchestra in the world.

Of course I was no bargain myself. I could barely handle the instrument and my ability to read music was about that of an elementary school pupil. I had three things going for me though: I had an intense love of music, I had listened to a great deal of classical music so that most of the stuff which was set in front of us (Mozart's 40th, Russlan & Ludmilla, Haydn's Surprise, Beethoven's First, etc.) I could play by ear, using the printed page as a sort of handy guide. Also the conductor and the first clarinet seemed to take a shine to me for some unknown reason and were very encouraging and helpful. I like to think that they recognized hidden talent. They must have been veritable musical bloodhounds for the talent was certainly well hidden.

The first clarinet was "Lubin" (I never did find out if this was his last or first name or maybe both). He eked out a living playing clarinet and saxophone at Polish and Jewish weddings and had that sort of crying tone required for this sort of stint. He did have a passable technique and principally he taught me to count rests, kept me from getting hopelessly lost, and especially kept me from getting discouraged. The conductor, Abraham Krainis, was a violinist, sometimes composer and (in case you haven't guessed) father of the foremost recorder artist in the U.S., although at that time the recorder artist was probably a tiny child. Krainis was a fine musician and conductor and he must have had the patience of a saint. I often wondered why he endured us and I'm now sure that he often wondered the same thing.

A symphony orchestra without a full complement of instruments is a sore trial even if those present play the cues of the missing instruments correctly, but the makeup of John Reed was unbelievable. The first oboe part was played on a concertina (!) This was the best we could do, and I must say that it sounded as believable as some of the oboe playing I've heard since. I still remember with horror the long oboe trill in Haydn's Surprise Symphony which required the concertinist to depress alternately two keys, one on each side of the instrument. This just doesn't give a clean trill. We had also a mandolin player who filled in the viola parts - this is all right if you don't mind everything pizzicato. For a while an E flat alto sax player transposed bassoon parts for us to be superceded later by an accordion player who soon became discouraged and left after a few rehearsals. One French horn part was filled in by an E flat mellophone; not too bad an approximation, although it looked funny.

However, it wasn't all bad. Somewhere along the way, we picked up a first flutist who was a really competent Juilliard graduate, then making a living as a photographer, also a Hungarian friend of his who was a really competent cellist. Our concertmaster had studied professionally, but a physical impairment hampered his playing just enough to keep him off the professional rolls. Several high school students and college students wandered in and out of the orchestra, more or less at random. One of them, Edward Ormond became my friend and roommate in college, and went on to pursue a professional career in music. He is now assistant principal viola in Cleveland.

The lack of a bassoon was a sore trial and as assistant second clarinet, (yes, we had four clarinets and no oboes or bassoons.) I spent so much time filling in bassoon cues that I finally offered to transpose the bassoon part on the clarinet. This worked for a while but then Mr. Krainis suggested that I buy a bassoon for real and become a bassoonist.

The temptation was too much! From assistant second clarinet to first bassoon in one jump! This had been the downfall (or upfall) of many a novice wind player. Unfortunately, due to the political climate of the times, we wouldn't consider purchasing a German made bassoon, and I and my associates knew next to nothing about the bassoons. I wound up with a Duval bassoon, a brand I've never heard of before or since. It was surely the worst bundle of sticks I'd ever handled in my life. It cost $90, which was a lot of money at that time, and would have gotten an old narrow bore Kohlert or even a Heckel, but as I said I knew nothing about bassoons or the bassoon market.

According to Langwill's "Bassoon and Contra Bassoon", bassoons are made of rosewood or maple. Of the several dozen bassoons I've seen or played during the last forty-two years, the Duval was the only one not made of maple. It might have been rosewood, if not it was teak, oak or walnut, for it was surely heavy enough. The bottom of the boot had a cork rather than a semi-circular tube like any self-respecting bassoon; as a consequence it leaked badly in the low register. It also did not have a hard rubber lining and as a result split in the wing joint as a result of too vigorous swabbing. I complained to the dealer who responded by having it repaired. This helped, but not much. In addition, it also had a closed low B flat key, which made the low C unbearably flat if you could get it at all. The middle C#/D# trill was so sharp that it trilled C# to E natural. It also sported a pinky whisper key which managed to get in the way of the low C# more than anything else. But after all, the bassoon is a difficult instrument, I kept telling myself, so I kept making excuses for the instrument and learned to live with this horror for the better part of five years. When I finally got a decent instrument, I had to beg the dealer to take the Duval off my hands. I often wonder what he did with it.

I played with the John Reed Orchestra for the better part of two years, after which I went off to college. We played the pieces I mentioned previously along with the Haydn London Symphony, Fingal's Cave, the Overture to the Barber of Seville, and the "New World". Nearly everything was in arrangements by Theobald Moses Tobani and was heavily cued. We must have really sounded terrible, and it is, to me, amazing that we could have persisted in playing under such unfavorable conditions. Some of my later encounters, notably with the Newark YMHA orchestra were scarcely any better.

Even more amazing was the behavior of my father. A one time violinist and, I suspect, not a particularly good one, he had forced music lessons on my older brother and two sisters with the usual disastrous results. My brother showed some promise, but gave up the violin when he was sixteen. My sisters were mediocre and unwilling pupils. Hence my dad, having given up on me before even starting, as it were, was delighted when I suddenly and spontaneously began assaulting my family's eardrums at a comparatively late age. Not only did he attend all concerts, he even attended rehearsals and would often ask me to play a bassoon theme from one of our selections. He particularly liked the second theme from Russlan and Ludmilla - sometimes I think because it was one of the few that I could play through without stumbling.

Since then, I must have played in over a dozen community orchestras and bands. I've taken lessons, coaching sessions and have (I like to think) developed into a passable bassoonist and contrabassoonist. Some of these orchestras were quite good, some maybe not so good, and some were simply terrible. But I have never come across another quite as bad as that first symphony orchestra.


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