Orchestral Etiquette or "Why is the Concertmaster Late?"

In the Friday Miscellanea I put up a link to an article on some odd, but frequently asked, questions about concert etiquette. One of them was:

6) Why is the concertmaster late?

It does look dubious when the most visible seat is unoccupied when the concert is set to start. I’ve even overheard some audience members in big cities remarking about how funny it was everyone applauded for the late musician. The lateness of the concertmaster is just another way audiences know the concert is starting and gives an extra minute to silence cell phones while the orchestra tunes.

It seems obvious that the writer had no idea about the correct answer to this one! The symphony orchestra concert has a long history and during that time a number of traditions have grown up. One of these is the special role of the concertmaster.  The Wikipedia article I just linked to is a bit of a stub, correct as far as it goes. If we go back far enough, we find that orchestras in the 17th and 18th centuries did not usually have conductors. But they did have concertmasters. The concertmaster is the leader of the first violins and, historically, the leader of the orchestra. It was he that tuned and directed the other players. Vivaldi was a famous example. Sometimes, especially in the case of a keyboard concerto, the keyboard player, usually also the composer, would tune and direct the orchestra from the keyboard. This is still sometimes done as we can see in this clip of a Mozart piano concerto played and directed by Mitsuko Uchida with the Camerata Salzburg:

In time, as orchestral compositions became more complex rhythmically and as the size of the orchestra grew from twenty or so players to over a hundred, the need for a conductor became evident. Beethoven was one of the first to conduct his own symphonies in public. Perhaps the first professional conductor who toured conducting various orchestras was Hector Berlioz.

But even as the conductor took over the task of directing the performance of the orchestra, the concertmaster still retained certain responsibilities the main ones of which are tuning the orchestra and organizing the bowings for the strings. If you notice that all the first violins' bows are moving in unison during the performance, it is likely because the concertmaster has marked them in the parts. Tuning the orchestra is the only part of the job that the audience sees. The concertmaster usually enters after everyone else is seated and calls for the principal oboe to sound an "A". (Why the oboe? It is the instrument least likely to be affected by changes in temperature or humidity.) Then he (or she) calls for each section to tune. Once everyone is tuned the concertmaster sits down and the conductor enters. If there is a concerto soloist, the soloist enters followed by the conductor. This hierarchy reflects the structure of the music, by the way, and is not just some dusty, obsolete rite! In the actual performance the conductor follows the soloist as the orchestra follows the conductor (and the strings, in particular, follow the concertmaster).

So it all makes perfect sense, both musically and historically. Here is a caricature of Berlioz conducting:

UPDATE: In modern times, as in the Uchida performance, the orchestra was likely tuned by the concertmaster playing an "A" on the piano before the soloist enters.

"Da Da Da *cough* Dum!"

The Guardian has a pretty decent essay up about concert etiquette, which, as seems to be typical, is all about coughing, cellphone rings and applause between movements. It is worth reading, including the comments. As one commentor notes:

I feel it is just basic social ettiquette and not 'audience ettiquette' that stops me from opening a packet of boiled sweets in the quiet moments of the 'Ave Maria' in Verdi's Otello

 I think one way to steer a middle course between excessive condemnation of audience noise and allowing any and all distractions is to notice that some audience noise indicates enthusiastic enjoyment of the music: this includes things like clapping between movements and shouting "bravo". I really think we should be very careful about suppressing any audience demonstrativeness. On the other hand, there are some kinds of sounds, coughing for example, or the unwrapping of candies, that indicate obliviousness to the music and I think we should speak out about that sort of thing. I have attended hundreds and hundreds of concerts and I have never coughed audibly in a single one--even if it was a bit of a struggle a couple of times. Sometimes audiences seem to forget that they are listening to real human beings and are not in front of their television sets. They just need to be reminded, perhaps.

There are other kinds of concert etiquette that govern the performers and not the audience and these seem to be less talked about. Take the protocols about entering and leaving the stage and bowing. In an orchestral concert most of the musicians come on stage informally and take their places without ceremony. But when the concert is about to begin the concertmaster enters, to applause, and in collaboration with the principal oboist, supervises the tuning of the orchestra. Then the conductor enters, to applause, and usually shakes hands with the concertmaster and principal cellist. If there is a soloist, in the case of a concerto, for example, the soloist and conductor enter together, with the soloist in the lead. The soloist then shakes hands with the concertmaster and perhaps principal cellist. The soloist bows to the audience and after getting settled, indicates to the conductor that he or she is ready to begin.

These protocols signal important facts about who has the musical priority. After the performance, the soloist again leads the bowing and may go ahead and shake hands with the concertmaster and any instrumentalists who had important solo parts. The soloist or the conductor may signal to important soloists to stand and receive applause. All this is done quite naturally and even though it is a pretty strict protocol, it is also quite natural as it corresponds to the musical importance of the parts and roles.

The sequence of bowing by the soloists in an opera is governed by very similar conventions. The minor roles enter and bow first and the last to enter and bow are the major soloists and then the whole cast bows together.

Personally I like the formality of a classical concert as I believe it has the effect of designating the concert hall space as a special place with its own rules and procedures. I think that the traditional protocols tend to protect and enhance the listening experience.

This clip just catches the entrance of soloist Mstislav Rostropovich in a performance of the Shostakovich Cello Concerto no. 1: