MUSIC / Leading the baton-charge: The Philharmonia survived London's orchestra war. Just. So now it is bringing in some protective armour. By Gillian Widdicombe

A brave man, Christoph von Dohnanyi. Any day now an announcement will be made that he has accepted a three-year contract as principal guest conductor of the Philharmonia Orchestra, beginning in September and involving about six weeks' work a year.

A year ago, this would have been like accepting an offer of marriage from someone on Death Row. Indeed, had the Arts Council gone ahead with its nave scheme to fund two London orchestras instead of the present four, by now the Philharmonia might have had all subsidy withdrawn - and with it the ability to do prestigious, well-rehearsed events. The waiting was damaging enough: the orchestra unable to plan ahead, find sponsorship, or move from its tacky offices in Great Portland Street. The whole dreadful mess repeated the confrontations of 1990, when the Philharmonia was pipped to the South Bank residency by the rival London Philharmonic.

David Whelton, manager of the Philharmonia since 1988, must have felt like Florestan, saved from the dungeon by his wife and a trumpet, when the Hoffmann Report on London orchestras landed on his desk last December. A modest, soft- spoken, though determined, fellow - for whom the Arts Council's recent junketings seemed ironic, since he had formerly been one of its officers, responsible for orchestral music - Whelton was amazed and delighted to read Hoffmann's robustly independent and often witty 44-page report: here was no arts-speak, no whitewash for less money, no hidden agenda for channelling more to the South Bank. If there were to be a super-orchestra, Hoffmann favoured the Philharmonia for the quality of its programming and its international reputation, and demolished the Arts Council's entire proposal, bringing shame (and resignation) on all who concocted it.

Financially, the Philharmonia is still hanging on by its fingertips; but artistically it is in a state of regeneration, consolidated by Dohnanyi's appointment. The key to this is the relationship established, after failing to win the South Bank residency, with the Chatelet Theatre in Paris. 'It's wonderful,' says Whelton, 'because we're given a guarantee for excellent quality work for a large part of our schedule.'

Quality work, substantial rehearsal, and Paris. No wonder Dohnanyi was interested. He has been music director of the Cleveland Orchestra since 1984 (and will continue there until the year 2000), but was ready for a regular European platform. Future plans include the Brahms symphonies in February 1995, Moses und Aron in November and, in 1996, Oedipus Rex and Renard, followed by Hansel und Gretel.

Despite the travel costs, accommodation and per diem, the Chatelet will also import the Philharmonia with other conductors; notably Esa- Pekka Salonen, who will do Messiaen's Turangalla and a complete recorded cycle of Ligeti, including his opera Le grand macabre (opening in Salzburg). What all this proves is that big projects, big ambitions, are the best investment for a beleaguered musical institution. 'We decided to put as much money as we can on to the platform,' says Whelton, 'working with conductors who can really use rehearsal time productively. When Harnoncourt does a Beethoven cycle with us at the South Bank this autumn, he will have 26 rehearsals.'

Dohnanyi's appointment also clarifies the Philharmonia's attitude to the role of music director. One of the things that won the LPO the South Bank residency was the appointment of Franz Welser-Most (a talented young conductor, but lacking both repertoire and experience) as its music director. But the appointment seems to have done Welser-Most's reputation more harm than good, and has reinforced Whelton's view that relationships must evolve, they cannot be dictated by bureaucratic strategy.

So when Giuseppe Sinopoli's contract as principal conductor expires in June 1996, he will not be replaced. 'We want to consolidate our work with a small group of conductors,' says Whelton, 'out of which the next music director will emerge.' Led by Dohnanyi, that group includes Sanderling, Svetlanov, Levine and Salonen. 'Titles are meaningless,' says Whelton. 'What matters is the relationship and the work that you do together.' And choosing new players? 'Not a problem, because of the way London orchestras audition. When a vacancy occurs, a handful will be offered trials and play with these conductors, whose views will be taken seriously.'

A hard man, Christoph von Dohnanyi. I would not care to be a woodwind player unable to play Strauss in tune during his rehearsal, though he is always courteous and laughs occasionally. He never pursues the easy success - the over- egged programme, the flashy finale. His years running first the Frankfurt and later the Hamburg opera houses were controversial, taking major risks by introducing theatre directors such as Luc Bondy to opera. At 53, he is more cautious about adventurous staging, and prefers to do much of his operatic work in concert form.

The grandson of the composer Erno Dohnanyi, he rejects the hotel life in favour of the double home: the family home, with the singer Anja Silja and two teenage children, is in Hamburg, where he studies but does not conduct; the work home in Cleveland, for 17 weeks a year, is full of books, scores, 'my second Ich'. Even his family thinks he's crazy, living this kind of life. 'But being without music for more than two days is very hard for me.'

Some people find his work too cool, too intelligent, and miss the quirkiness of more flamboyant conductors. But for an increasing number his seriousness, and the absence of emotional waffle, gives his performances, and especially his recordings, an exceptional shelf-life, while that discipline produces a wonderful, often voluptuous sound. With the Cleveland he has recorded most of the standard repertoire, each work, except the big symphonies, recorded in a single session after concert performances - efficiency and spontaneity combined.

He dismisses the trendy view that the period orchestra is taking over huge chunks of orchestral repertoire. 'History is only interesting to enable you to build up the future,' he says, adding that many 'organic' conductors (Harnoncourt for example) have changed their diets the moment a 'real' orchestra sits in front of them. 'We need to know how it might have sounded, what the problems of the old instruments were, and how they affected tempi; and why sometimes it seems to us that the brass is overwhelmingly orchestrated - because these instruments did not have so much power then. But to give up the opportunity of playing music of earlier days would be totally wrong. I hate bar lines anyway, and I think there's no bar line between the 19th and 20th centuries. And if you're not able to do the music of our day well, you're certainly not able to do the music of the past. I'm not interested in people who do Brahms without knowing Schoenberg. You cannot read Dostoyevsky without knowing Proust.'

Lord Gowrie, the Arts Council's new chairman, should spend some time in the company of Dohnanyi's confident rigour and musical certainty. The Council's deluge of paperwork is not yet ended. In conjunction with the BBC, the Arts Council's former music director, Kenneth Baird, is putting the finishing touches to - yes, a report on orchestral resources in Britain. I dare say it will tell us about fees going down in real terms, empty seats at the South Bank, training, education, repertoire, and the lack of sufficient venues in some parts of the country. I doubt that it will tackle some of the practical questions David Whelton asks about the high hire fees charged by the South Bank; nor is it likely to consider whether that residency is a success.

And far more important, to all the major orchestras, is who will be the Dohnanyi and Whelton figures appointed shortly to regenerate the Arts Council. The Department of National Heritage is due to appoint the chairman of the advisory music panel; the Council will advertise for a new music director on 9 May. Personally, I think it's time to reform the whole decision-making process of the Arts Council, abandoning the voluntary panel, too often made up of good musicians with conflicting interests and no experience of running anything - but that is another story.

David Whelton sums up nicely: 'If you're going to make decisions about orchestras, for God's sake talk to people who know about them.'

(Photograph omitted)