By Editorial Staff

Back in 1931, when Eugene Ormandy was a young conductor without a regular orchestra, Arthur Judson telephoned him one day to say: “Gene, there’s a vacancy in Philadelphia, but it could be suicide for you.” The vacancy was a two-week stint on the podium of the Philadelphia Orchestra and the reason it seemed self-destructive was that whoever took it would be simultaneously following Leopold Stokowski, who had gone on vacation, and replacing Arturo Toscanini, who was prevented by neuritis from filling a guest engagement. “I phoned every conductor I knew,” Judson recalled in later years. “All of a sudden, everybody was busy that week.”

But Eugene Ormandy was more than available; he was ready. When his chance came, he filled it with such distinction that before many years passed he became music director of that same Philadelphia Orchestra, an association that has now lasted thirty-eight years—the longest tenure any conductor has ever had with a major American symphony orchestra.

Ormandy’s debut with the Philadelphia was typical of his entire career, for that Friday afternoon audience at the Academy of Music saw a vigorous, versatile, businesslike, and musicianly conductor who was thoroughly in command of a program that included Beethoven’s Seventh, Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night‘s Dream Nocturne and Scherzo, Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun and Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite. Ever since, Ormandy has been giving audiences the same full measure of musical breadth and sensitivity. His success as a guest in Philadelphia led him first to the Minneapolis Symphony (now the Minnesota Orchestra), which he developed within a few years into a major organization and one of the prime cultural forces in the Midwest. And eventually it brought him back to Philadelphia to replace the supposedly irreplaceable Stokowski.

Ormandy, who was born in Budapest in 1899, came to New York in 1921 bent on a career as a violinist. His first job here was playing in the orchestra of the old Capitol Theater on Broadway, an excellent eighty-five-piece ensemble which performed popular symphonies and light classics as well as accompanying silent films. A week after joining the orchestra Ormandy, despite his youth, was elevated to the position of concertmaster, and before long, to the conductorship. He subsequently moved into radio conducting and then, under the guidance of Judson, into symphonic summer engagements and guest dates. Few European-born musicians have adapted themselves as quickly and completely to American musical customs and circumstances.

Ormandy’s achievement in Philadelphia can be measured in a number of ways. Under his guidance, the orchestra has traveled more miles, visited more countries, played more concerts, and made more recordings than any other American orchestra. It has performed more than its share of world premieres, ranging alphabetically from Antheil to Zimbalist and stylistically from Menotti to Penderecki. It has entered wholeheartedly into the communal life of its city even as it has become one of the most prestigious cultural ambassadors of its nation.

Perhaps most important of all, Ormandy is responsible for the distinctive musical attribute known as the “Philadelphia sound,” that rich, smooth, sonorous quality that sets this orchestra apart from all others. Today’s Philadelphia Orchestra reflects his acuteness of ear, feeling for ensemble, and all-encompassing musicianship. Only one or two of the present players are holdovers from the Stokowski era; the rest were auditioned and selected by Ormandy and blended by him into the ensemble. In effect, he has built a new Philadelphia Orchestra almost imperceptibly within the framework of the old one, a process which Virgil Thomson once likened to a wine lover replenishing a fine cellar bottle by bottle. No wonder that Ormandy can say, with justifiable pride, “The Philadelphia Sound—it’s me!”

In an age in which many conductors literally fly from podium to podium and some musical directors barely stay put long enough to get to know their own organizations, Eugene Ormandy has maintained a unique sense of attachment and fidelity to the Philadelphia Orchestra.

Moreover, he brings the same qualities of devotion and dedication to the art of music itself. He is fond of quoting Arthur Nikisch’s reply to a young man who begged him for lessons in conducting. “It’s very easy,” said Nikisch. “One-two-three-four. one-two-three, one-two. The rest you have to do yourself.”

With total absorption in music. Ormandy has made himself one of the most productive, illuminating, and dependable conductors of the twentieth century. He has never attempted to turn himself into a podium personality, to attract attention by flamboyant techniques or bizarre interpretations. Because he remains loyal to Philadelphia he is not seen as often as his colleagues on other major world podiums; he has perhaps not been accorded the international attention he deserves. Yet he is a superb musician, a conductor second to none, and a music director without peer. He exemplifies musical professionalism at its highest. It is an honor for us to honor him as Musician of the Year.