The seriousness of the allegations swirling around James Levine, the erstwhile music director of the Metropolitan Opera, has precipitated the classical music industry to ask uncomfortable questions of itself, in particular about the cultural legitimisation of abusive behaviour. Rumours have abounded in industry circles for decades about certain individuals’ predilections and activities, yet only now is there a media storm. It is fuelled, it seems, by our prurient interest in – and appetite for – sex scandals, and the suspicion that major organisations may have been complicit in silencing alleged victims, to avoid the “embarrassment” of a criminal trial.
The cult of the maestro has long been endemic in classical music. A maestro is not necessarily a conductor; it can be any distinguished and authoritative figure who commands great respect, whether he – and it is almost invariably a man – be soloist, director or teacher. To a significant degree, the success of the industry depends on this cult; it encourages audiences to flock to performances to witness dazzling displays of supreme skill, ones that thrillingly plumb emotional extremes and inspire performers to reach ever greater technical and interpretative heights. Classical music, competing as it does with other art forms and music genres in an increasingly crowded market, needs the stardust of its major players.
The cult of the maestro has thrived precisely because of the uniquely difficult demands of the music: great power and privilege is sycophantically bestowed on those perceived to be geniuses, and behaviour that would be unacceptable in other contexts may be excused or swept under the carpet; different moral standards can be applied to them by virtue of their artistic brilliance.
A recent study commissioned by the Incorporated Society of Musicians reported a “high level” of discrimination and sexual harassment in the classical music sector. As a singer, I have witnessed numerous incidents of harassment, when maestros have taken advantage of their position – whether demanding late-night one-on-one “meetings” to discuss a section of a great work, or walking into a musician’s dressing room without knocking when they know the musician is changing.
Such occurrences are common throughout the industry, and younger musicians are especially vulnerable to abuse. Harassment often goes unreported by victims, for fear of the repercussions and the risk of not being employed in the future. Classical music is a precarious arena in which to sustain a career – a huge number of musicians are self-employed, relying on their reputation to bring in work, and do not earn huge sums (thereby all but ruling out the possibility of bringing legal action themselves). Musicians are at the mercy of the organisations who employ them, so everyone tries to avoid being the subject of gossip in case it affects their chance of re-employment.
Maestros are generally given the final say on who is hired (and rehired), especially in the case of soloists, but they also can control who is employed in an orchestra section, for example, allowing them to pursue personal vendettas or target someone who may be of interest sexually. It is an environment that facilitates abuse, because of the huge disparity between the powerful and the powerless, and there is rarely any structure in place to hold a maestro to account.
And yet a word of caution: there is very real danger in the current climate, this era of social media and fake news, that some individuals may be wrongly accused, and, once allegations are made publicly, Pandora’s box is open. Even if the accusations are later proved to be untrue, the damage to the reputation of the accused may be irreparable. Every time their name is searched on the internet, these false stories will appear. We must particularly guard against witch hunts that might condemn the innocent in cases of historical abuse, when the passage of time will have dimmed the memories of witnesses and documentary evidence will have been frequently long lost.
The classical music industry has a duty to protect the vulnerable and those at risk of abuse. We need sweeping cultural change. It is imperative that a zero-tolerance policy towards sexual harassment is applied across the board, and that institutional coverups of abusive behaviour end. For example, no private meetings or rehearsals where a maestro is alone with a musician should be permitted; performance notes and discussions can and should always be given quietly in front of others. If it is suspected that a maestro has designs on an individual beyond the purely professional, a chaperone should be insisted on, especially during festivals and on tours, where there are extended opportunities for interaction between a maestro and other musicians. No matter the identity or lofty position of an alleged perpetrator, reports of sexual misconduct must be immediately and fully investigated, and the police must be notified if it is reasonably believed that any criminal offences may have been committed.
It may be difficult to achieve, but I would like to see an industry-wide code of conduct, clearly setting out standards of behaviour expected of everyone, including maestros, and training should be given to all musicians for how to deal with and defend against sexual harassment at work. It is only when victims believe they will be fully supported and feel that they can speak out without fear of recrimination or of irreversibly damaging their career that they will summon the courage to report their abuser.
Today’s heightened awareness provides an opportunity for change that must not be ignored. If the industry is perceived as continuing to facilitate abuse even in the face of major scandals, it will lose its credibility, and the support of sponsors and audiences will evaporate. The very future of classical music is at stake.