Slash Your Local Orchestra

Sometimes politics between management and players derail contract negotiations, as they have recently in Louisville. In comes the musicians' union, the AFM. And, against the backdrop of our national debate on unions, many in the community will naturally assume the musicians are gaming their employers. Discussion of how the arts requires “your help” will fall on deaf ears as much of the public shrugs their shoulders and puzzles over why they're asked to “give handouts.” They'll clear their throats and delicately suggest to the lot of lazy beggars that they should “get a real job.”

They'll say things like, “The economic reality is that there's only so much money. You've got to divide what's there.” (As if there was never a thing called development. As if there were ever a time that was economically “good" for the arts.)

Of course, the gems, who are passionate about classical music, already give with their hearts—generously. Until, one day, they look around to find that, they're all that's left. People who used to give in smaller shares, the “real world” givers, can no longer afford it. Discovering this alarming state of affairs, the high roller patron gives more of her money, but now she's also giving her time. She serves on boards, even sponsors auctions or other clever ways to drum up cash. Finally, she can no longer afford to prop it up for the rest of us. She can no longer sustain it on her own. Her portion of the burden is too large, or maybe she passes away, and the orchestra declares bankruptcy.

Sounds too fatalistic? It's happening now. It's been happening for years. If you live near an orchestra, you know. And if you don't—who cares?