Photo: Christoph Müller-Girod
In the second part of Conductor’s Curiosa, we’ll have a look at another myth-ridden feature of conductors: the tailcoat? Read Jonathan Darlington thoughts on why many conductors today choose to abandon the “penguin”…
‘Demigods’ in Tailcoats or ‘Penguins’?
Once a regular evening and festive dress, the tailcoat’s former social significance is today but a dim memory that only rarely resurfaces on wedding invitations that demand “white tie”. But the days of the “white tie” seem numbered. In the past two decades conductors slowly began to follow a trend set by soloists (especially violinists) to change the outdated garment for something more comfortable.
Pierre Boulez, who JD was heavily influenced by, called out at various occasions: “Get rid of that tailcoat!”
Jonathan Darlington also thinks of tailcoats as “rather anachronistically bizarre”.
JD: “Ever since I was a child I have wondered why it was necessary to look like that on stage. Did it make them play better? Had they stopped off on their way to some fancy dress party? It makes a strong impression on a child’s psyche and to this day it still amazes me.”
(It will seem that even educational children’s literature on classical music has to try and familiarize young audiences with this outfit: http://www.kinderbuch-couch.de/weidinger-erich-moritz-und-der-dirigent.html)
‘Tie’d up in History
When one thinks of tailcoats, images of Fred Astaire come to mind, as do the old conductor masters like Strauss, Stokovski or Beecham.
The invention of the tailcoat is mostly attributed to none other than the ur-dandy George (Beau) Brummel in the 1830ies. It evolved from the English riding coat (which eventually shrank as the coat was cut away to make riding easier). What Brummel wore was new, chic and quickly immitated. Already by the 1850s it became regular evening wear of the gentry and slowly lost it’s dandy image.
In the beginning, tailcoats were not necessarily black, but came in all colours. Just think of Goethe’s Werther and his famed blue tailcoat with yellow trousers!
As evening wear, they thus automatically became the regular equipment of conductors and musicians alike – since concerts are given in the evening – and certainly by 1900 they were always black.
The main reason for its popularity among musicians was the freedom of movement that the tailcoat provides compared to other garments of the time: It doesn’t shift with the arms to reveal the shirt when a conductor raises his arms, as would any other suit.
But why does the orchestra dress code cling to it after it has lost its social meaning?
JD: “I can think of no good logical reason for it except that perhaps the very act of dressing up lends the event some sort of ‘special’ aura. The ladies however, although usually dressed in black as well, are thoroughly modern in their clothing. Should they not also be bedecked in something equally anachronistic?”
Photo: Christoph Müller-Girod
A change in role?
Several well known conductors today have made their different attire a trade mark (John Eliot Gardener comes to mind). But this change brings a dilemma: How to chose a functional outfit without looking too casual, how to still maintain a festive aura– or should a concert be festive at all? Should the conductor stand apart visually from the musicians – and if yes, why?
The change of costume seems to come with a change of role: conductors today are no longer the austere figures they used to be, unquestionable authorities with white ties. With a changed view of leadership, the robe of authority is put into question.
Can a change of dress influence the perception of the conductor?
JD: “It gives us a sort of style and, like all dress wear, makes a statement about who we are and what image we are trying to project. It’s a part of communication -with both audience and orchestra.”
Photo: Christoph Müller-Girod
The Maestro’s New Clothes
Jonathan Darlington’s own “conversion to the cause”, as he puts it, is relatively recent and happened very much for the same reasons that had made the tailcoat popular in the first place: functionality and style.
JD: “It was mainly because I kept on forgetting various articles of the normal clothing which led to some embarrassing situations. – Try standing up in front of an orchestra with half your shirt buttons missing, a bow tie that won’t stay on and trousers that have difficulty staying up and you’ll see what I mean.”
Not surprisingly, like with his batons, the maestro had his new outfit custom made by Parvin Mirhadin, a costume designer at Vancouver Opera. It was modeled after another leisure coat that he had purchased on a trip to Asia.
♻ RetweetJD: “It is fitted – rather as a dancer’s costume would be – to give me maximum flexibility without (I hope) looking like a sack. It is rather ‘Pandit Nehru’ – as a friend once described it -in design and only goes to show I guess that I’ve exchanged one illogical fancy-dress outfit for another. At least it consists of fewer pieces for me to forget.”
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