APO's smooth orchestrator returns to the ranks

The general manager of the APO tells HEATH LEES he hopes his resignation will draw attention to the orchestra's problems.

Hardly anyone knew about Lloyd Williams' resignation as general manager of the Auckland Philharmonia until the advertisement for his job appeared in last week's newspapers.

By that time, Williams had worked out and written an informal press statement about himself, the orchestra, and the way ahead.

Such admirable organisation - or smooth orchestration - of public information demonstrates in a small way what Williams sees as the Auckland Philharmonia's greatest strength: its sheer professionalism.

Five years ago, Williams was a player in the orchestra's double bass section. Off and on, he had been with the orchestra and its predecessor for 15 years. To the public, he was the crossover bass-player, happily upfront in the jazz concerts, and solidly in the ranks with the classical programmes. To the orchestra, he stood out as a musician of loyalty, ideas and energy. When the GM's post came up and he voiced his interest, the band was in perfect unison behind him.

Today, Williams insists that his decision to leave is not the result of a dramatic bust-up. In fact, he describes his resignation as a token of satisfaction.

"We had a successful AGM a few weeks ago," he explains. "At last, after five years, we had moved from the red to the black, and everything else had come together so well that I suddenly realised that now was the best time to move on.

"The public profile of the orchestra has never been better. Exciting developments include a new teaching academy, a summer school, the musicians in schools programme and the prestigious Michael Hill World Violin Competition. Every area of the orchestra's activities shows strong leadership."

When Williams moved into the job, he knew that the players needed to be paid at a more professional level.

"They've been subsidising classical music in the Auckland region for a very long time," he says. "We increased the size of the orchestra and gave better pay rates to a maximum of 14 per cent. It cost $1 million, and our targeted extra income fell short by $200,000, which wiped out our surpluses. It's taken five years to claw our way back into the black, but we had secured a full-time, professional symphony orchestra."

The mention of money turns the conversation into a doleful minor key. Despite his breezy claim that he's going because the moment is opportune, Williams admits that constantly having to ask for dollars has worn him down.

"I am sick of worrying about money, but you can't run an orchestra without it - lots of it. Increasing the size, hiring a music director, getting an assistant conductor, engaging better and better players to fill vacancies - all of this costs more. Even sold-out concerts run at a loss. It's actually cheaper for the orchestra to stay at home on full pay."

Williams singles out public funding as being welcome, but not enough. He views other symphony orchestras with envy. "The Sydney Symphony Orchestra is praised for making ends meet with 50 per cent of its annual income coming from the public purse. The Tasmanian Symphony gets a huge slice of 86 per cent, and even the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra gets more than 70 per cent from public funds. We get only 26 per cent, so the subsidy for every person coming to one of our concerts is just $4."

Williams recalls that less than a year ago, the NZSO subsidy was publicly disputed between its CEO and the Ministry of Culture as being somewhere between $55 and $120.

Whatever the figure, he says, the Auckland Philharmonia's $4 subsidy is huge value for money.

During his time in the job, Williams always avoided head-on clashes with the NZSO, but there's irony in his voice when he admits that the Auckland Philharmonia seems to have "reversed roles" with the national orchestra. The NZSO has been successfully chasing customers with big, crowd-pleasing repertoire, while the Philharmonia has provided challenging programmes with a good dash of flair and originality and a heavy commitment to New Zealand music.

Williams takes special pride in the Philharmonia's success with schools visits, training schemes for young musicians, and composer-in-residence programme. He champions the way it regularly goes out to play to the youngest children, and reaps a second harvest when their parents show up at concerts; the Philharmonia's record of audience development is hard to match.

Williams left a successful career in teaching and educational administration 20 years ago to play in the Philharmonia because he wanted to be a hands-on musician again. Now, he says, it's the same impulse. He wants to get back to the "creative end of artistic product," and has already been down on the platform again, mixing it with the double basses at concerts. "I love playing music" he says, "and I'm drawn to study again. Maybe there's something I can do now that mixes both."

Whatever his career-path brings, he agrees that the orchestra's future upwards or downwards is a critical matter. When you mention the idea of a New Zealand Philharmonia based in Auckland like the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra is based in Wellington, he doesn't even blink. Clearly this has been talked about.

Or maybe the Philharmonia could stay firmly regional but with better funding. Williams has complained about the payment of large sums of rental to the Auckland Town Hall when he knows that the orchestra helps to keep its cash-registers and carparks humming a happy tune.

The orchestra is a resource too, he says, enabling other hirers like operas and musicals to perform in the city, keeping its venues in business.

Williams sees the Town Hall as the orchestra's natural home, and is sure that one day it will be permanently housed there. "Why not now?" he asks.

"My huge fear is that this orchestra will get to a stage where it requires more dollars than we can find, earn, raise, beg for ... and 20 years of building will come tumbling down".

He refuses to single out any special group for thanks. Sponsors, audiences, music-lovers - all are part of his big list of supporters. They are the ones who listen, enjoy, and spread the music.

If his decision to move on makes others listen more carefully to the lament of financial starvation that the orchestra is also playing, then no one will be happier than Williams himself.