`Orchestral conducting as a full-time occupation is an invention - a sociological, not an artistic one - of the 20th century," observed the great Argentinian-born pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim. Norman Lebrecht's controversial study, The Maestro Myth (1991) set out to debunk the status of conductor-as-cultural-god enjoyed by many jet-setting, superstar practitioners. Describing the "great conductor" as a mythical hero of popular culture, Lebrecht argues music conductors have been "artificially created for a non-musical purpose" and are sustained by commercial necessity.
"The conductor exists because mankind demands a visible leader, or at the very least, an identifiable figurehead. His musical raison d'etre is altogether secondary to that function. He plays no instrument, produces no noise, yet conveys an image of music-making that is credible enough to let him take the rewards of applause away from those who actually created the sound."
Ego aside, on a more practical level, such leading conductors are often paid as much for a single concert as the entire orchestra will earn.
Proinnsias O Duinn, now in his 21st year as the conductor of the RTE Concert Orchestra - itself celebrating its 50th anniversary this year - has little time for the myth of conductors. Not that he is going to become overly upset on the subject. "Conducting is the easiest profession to get away with and the most difficult to be good at." A small, dapper, slightly Mediterranean-looking man wearing a cravat, O Duinn could not be described as quivering with artistic temperament. Logic is his strength.
Nothing rattles him - not even the appearance in the dressing room of an anxious man wondering about a missing harp. Fast-talking and exact, O Duinn seems relaxed, enjoys the business of making music but is clearly no zealot, and has no time for dictatorial conductors. "Conductors who try to dominate swamp the orchestra, they're like bad teachers. No one learns anything. My job is to drive the orchestra. You drive the orchestra to re-create the sound the composer heard and use the orchestra to convey it. You try to study the composer in depth, then each of the composer's works, to find out what's in character for this composer: equally, what's not. All of this means that when you are suddenly thrown a score you should be able to say after the first four or five bars, `ah, that's so-and-so'. It's knowing a composer the way you would recognise an author."
He believes good timing and luck have played a part in his career - "having always been in the right place at the right time. A knack for which I am very grateful."
About the most theatrical comment he makes in the course of a conversation at an unusually quiet National Concert Hall is his slightly Wildean description of his arrival into this world in October 1941. "I was born in the back of a cab on Butt Bridge - and pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital." It is a story he enjoys telling. He is the third child in a Clontarf family of four."My father was a civil servant and there was no music in my background." In common with generations of middle-class children, O Duinn began taking piano lessons with a Miss Mulally, a teacher who ensured her pupils enjoyed their music. Meanwhile, his father had become "interested in us listening to opera".
Music was not overly important at school at the Christian Brothers in Fairview. "Music was regarded as something for sissies. If you played hurling it was different, you were a man." At 10, however, O Duinn's future was decided. "I became ill, I developed a condition known as epiphysitis" - he makes a brave attempt at spelling it, and explains - "it means the fluid around the joints goes, dries up. It's caused by growing at different speeds to the fluids. There was only one cure, I had to stay in bed for six months. If I'd gone to hospital I would have been put in plaster. But at home, I just stayed in bed."
To make recuperation more bearable, the piano was moved to his bedside. "I was given the full score of the Brandenburg Concertos and listened to recordings and wondered `why did he do that?', while trying to follow the score a page at a time until I could follow the whole line."
By the time he had recovered, his musical theory was well developed and he knew he wanted to be a conductor. "There has never been anything else. I'm totally contented." O Duinn also knew he had to study the orchestra, which is an instrument. "The difference, of course, is that it is made up of individuals." He refers to the group-psychology of orchestras. Of course, the most effective way to learn about the orchestra is by playing in one. "I would say it's absolutely essential," he stresses. He set about selecting an instrument to this end, and bought a second-hand cello for £10.
His commitment to music did not impress the Christian Brothers. "There was a lot of `if Proinnsias showed as much interest in his schoolwork as he does in his music, he'd be a lot better off' and so on. Not only did they expect you to be there from nine to four every day, there was also about four hours of homework. There was no point, I was only interested in music."
Having argued his case with his parents, O Duinn left school at the Inter Cert and began a two-year commercial course at the College of Commerce in Rathmines while also studying at the College of Music. Time has justified his decision. "There are various administrative tasks involved in music and it's been helpful knowing how to write a business letter."
Even so, his father feared for his son's future so the reluctant schoolboy agreed to sit the Leaving Cert after all - as long as music could be one of his subjects. "At that time the vocational school system, to which the College of Music belonged, had a scheme through which passes in five subjects, including music, would secure the Leaving Cert." He sat and passed English, Irish, maths, art and music. On the day of his exams he was offered a job as a clerk in Rowntree's, the Dublin sweet firm. While his father believed he should accept the offer, O Duinn opposed it. On the suggestion of a family friend, the family decided to seek arbitration. Composer and former Professor of Music at Trinity College Dr Brian Boydell was approached and his advice was to give the boy a chance to prove himself.
Music had won. O Duinn insists he never had any soloist ambitions - "it was a means to an end" - but certainly did his share of performing. "I did a lot of chamber music and of course was also available to step in if a professional player was unable to perform." As far as his own playing was concerned, his aims were simple: "I always tried to sound like Starker" - meaning the Hungarian-born American virtuoso Janos Starker - "and I wanted my cello to sing like Bjorling" - referring to the Swedish tenor, Jussi Bjorling (1911-1960), whom who he admired. Among his favourite cellists is the Frenchman Paul Tortelier (1914-1990).
Given any chance to play, O Duinn was ready. When he was 18 he was a member of the orchestra performing at the Gaiety theatre during a two-week run of The Heart's a Wonder, a musical account of the life of Percy French. What had seemed little more than a routine engagement assumed an unexpected significance. "The show was due to end in time for the annual Jimmy O'Dea revue. But he became very ill and his show was cancelled." The cast of The Heart's a Wonder was able to stay on for an extended run. The musical director, however, had to return to London. He asked the orchestra if anyone knew of a replacement. O Duinn smiles. "I stood up and offered myself." It worked. "Being in the right place at the right time," he says, "it's the story of my life." The show ran for three months.
His involvement at the Gaiety continued and he conducted Carousel followed by The Merry Widow. Kevin Roche of RTE was sufficiently impressed to invite O Duinn to guest-conduct the RTE Symphony Orchestra for a concert. For that date he chose two early symphonies: Schubert's Third and Shostakovitch's Third. After some initial testing by the orchestra, which was wary of his inexperience, the concert went well. Tibor Paul then took over the symphony orchestra and O Duinn discovered his early break was not going to be enough. On being offered an Arts Council bursary to study composition abroad, he accepted but asked could he use it to study conducting instead. This request was granted and he went to The Netherlands.
Sitting in on the famous Concertgeboeuw in rehearsal, he was surprised to be so disappointed by lacklustre playing. It sounded so ordinary. This changed on the second day. "It was wonderful, a complete transformation." The difference was due to a change in conductor. The legendary Dutch conductor Bernard Haitink was in charge. He remains O Duinn's favourite conductor, the best example of a conductor he has seen who possesses the gift of "caressing" the music without being emotionally involved and without allowing ego to take over.
"Now if he were a racing driver," he says of Haitink (calling on his favourite analogy of conducting as driving) "he'd be able to take the sharp bends without ever crashing." Famous names are mentioned: Karajan, Muti, Abbado, Tennsdet, Barenboim, Rattle - "now he is a man who was certainly in the right place at the right time".
In passing, O Duinn refers to the showmanship of Stokowski, the Cockney-born conductor who reinvented himself as a Central European enigma and throve on the idea of conductor as superstar. "But he couldn't resist Hollywood and went and did Fantasia for Disney. And who was going to take him seriously again after he had shaken hands with Mickey Mouse?"
When he returned from The Netherlands, Tibor Paul was still in charge of the RTE orchestra and there was no opening for O Duinn. It was then he first began avail of his commercial course. "I began writing to music directors abroad, basically looking for work." Luckily for him, the then director and leader of the Icelandic Symphony was touring Europe in search of new talent. "The Icelandic national airline was running a deal which meant if you flew to London from Reykjavik, you could travel on to Dublin for free."
Asked to produce a sample tape of his conducting, O Duinn submitted a recording of the Danish composer Nielsen's Third Symphony. The music from a Nordic composer - and the performance - impressed his Icelandic audience and O Duinn was invited to conduct two concerts. He stayed for eight years. "I loved it" - and he seems surprised to realise he has not been back since 1971. "There was a great quality of life there, they seemed to practise real Christianity as opposed to empty church-going."
From Reykjavik, he moved on to become guest conductor of Ecuador's national orchestra in Quito. This offer came in the aftermath of a political coup some six months earlier. It soon became clear the new regime had decided that unless all the vacant positions in the orchestra - including the job of principal conductor - were immediately filled, all state funding would cease. O Duinn was offered the job for a three-year period - "right place, at the right time, see what I mean?" He accepted and stayed for six years. Concert-goers began arriving on time instead of casually appearing an hour late. "And I loved it there. I'm very fond of South American music, the colour, energy and the rhythms. I was happy."
It ended when the regime was ousted and he began receiving notes asking the orchestra to perform for the military - often at the same time as a previously scheduled concert. Predictably, any objections were futile, so he resigned.
The next move brought him to Colombia where he worked for a year in Popayan with the town's chamber orchestra. Then he came back to Ireland and became the conductor of the RTE Singers. It would not have been his first choice of position. But composer Gerard Victory, then head of music in RTE, asked him to apply for the job.
In preparation for the audition, he concentrated on voice for the first time. He was appointed, which meant he joined the staff of RTE, and spent four years with the singers before moving on to his present job with the RTE Concert Orchestra in 1977; he remains the director of Our Lady's Choral Society.
Neither of his now-grown children from his first marriage is involved with music and, asked if he attends concerts for pleasure, he says not. Now married to singer Joan Merrigan, he says: "I don't listen to music that much unless we are doing it. It makes sense. You wouldn't write an article for pleasure, would you? Anyhow, there isn't much time. We are constantly selecting music and getting it ready for performance. It all happens very quickly."
Theatre is another interest "but I can not take the noise of cinema". O Duinn has always maintained Irish musicians should get the chance to play in Irish orchestras "if they're good enough and they are". The RTE Concert Orchestra is currently 80 per cent Irish players.
The strength of the orchestra is its versatility, from Gershwin to Verdi. Nonetheless, it is often criticised for the relative lightness of its repertoire - possibly dictated, to an extent, by the presence of the National Symphony Orchestra. O Duinn qualifies this observation by saying "we do play popular music - don't forget we are playing for the people, for the taxpayers, and they pay double. They pay their taxes and they have to pay for their seats. But we also play the major works, the Schubert, the Beethoven - you'd have to, an orchestra would lose its technique otherwise. We can change our style from the popular to the classical."
Aware of the importance of recordings, he is concerned about the recording policies prevailing within the industry but is reluctant to be described as completely cynical. "I do object to the practice of bringing in these beautiful, little voices for a Wagner recording when it's so obvious these little voices wouldn't have a hope on stage with a Wagnerian orchestra." Technology and the emphasis on "clean sound" has made him wary. There is a vast difference between the live recording, with its natural flaws, and the sanitised studio version which is achieved through playing over, re-takes and re-mastering.
Live performance is the heart of any music. No one is more pleased than O Duinn about the RTE Concert Orchestra's national tours. "When I took over in 1978, we went out about three times a year. Now there are 36 concert dates, almost once a week we are out travelling the country. We have brought live music - and are bringing live music - to Ireland. I think this is very important: in fact I'm delighted about it."
