Music: The Manager

For a quarter-century Arthur Judson has been the most powerful figure on the American musical scene. He headed the nation’s largest artist-booking agency, now Columbia Artists Management, which relentlessly deployed its artists across the musical map of the U.S. At the same time, Judson was manager of the New York Philharmonic-Symphony . Society, with the deciding voice in the selection of conductors and soloists. For most of his 34-year tenure, controversy flickered over whether Judson should properly carry on both jobs. Last week the controversy came to an end when Judson, 75, resigned his post with the New York Philharmonic. Judson’s resignation pointed up the fact that the oldest orchestra in the U.S. had fallen on evil days.

To all but the most casual concertgoers, the Philharmonic has sounded ragged for the past two years, and the impression grew that nobody seemed to care. Conductor Dimitri Mitropoulos, 60, a man of great good will and enormous gifts, tolerated sloppy playing—possibly demoralized because the Philharmonic’s board often failed to support him in performing modern music, the kind he likes best. The orchestra members, working too hard and denied a hand in policymaking, felt like underpaid hired help. And Manager Judson could not escape his share of the blame. Throughout his remarkable career, Judson had treated music as a business, usually with brilliant results, but his artist-clients came to fear his power.

Rival Orchestras. Soon after the turn of the century, Dayton-born Arthur Judson became a violinist and teacher. A handsome, strongly built fellow with a resonant voice, he was soon speaking of music as another merchant might of hardware, and selling it as enthusiastically. In 1915 he became manager of the Philadelphia Orchestra, then founded his own concert agency. Gradually he added to his domain: in 1922 he became business manager of the New York Philharmonic, and in 1927 he became a co-founder of the Columbia Broadcasting System, gleefully predicting an immense shortage of artists as radio grew.

Few artists could ignore a manager who had such inviting connections. The contracts that piled up in his combine’s safes bore the signatures of such eminent names as Menuhin, Heifetz, Elman, Horowitz, Pons, Gigli. Eventually, his ever-spreading ventures were bitterly opposed by such musicians as Leopold Stokowski, who reportedly maneuvered Judson’s resignation from the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1934, and by the U.S. Government itself, which won an antitrust suit against Columbia Artists and an affiliate last year.

As co-manager of the New York Philharmonic (since 1946 with Bruno Zirato, once Enrico Caruso’s secretary), Judson saw the orchestra through its greatest days, when Arturo Toscanini was principal conductor (1927-36), and made virtuoso conductors into star attractions, e.g., Willem Mengelberg, Erich Kleiber, Bruno Walter. Operating on Judson’s well-developed business instincts, the Philharmonic swallowed up rival orchestras (including the old New York Symphony).

In the Spotlight. In his long career Judson survived many attacks. But last spring New York Times Music Critic Howard Taubman let fly with a full-page analysis of the orchestra’s troubles, some of which he traced directly to Judson and Zirato, e.g., an unprovable but widespread suspicion that the managers were hiring more Columbia artists than they should for appearances with the orchestra. The article simply played the spotlight on a series of old complaints, and Judson would no doubt have survived again. But he was 75, and so it seemed a good time for him to retire.

Musical Director Mitropoulos also seemed to be getting tired of the Philharmonic feuds, recently told a Vienna newspaper that this will be his last season with the orchestra. He added: “If I were in Judson’s position, I would have resigned a long time ago, to take a rest after such glorious activity. It takes a great character to resign in time.”