For Those in the Music Business, When Is Old, Too Old?

By Thomas Wolf

Some musicians give superb performances into their nineties and even at a hundred years of age. Others should quit decades earlier. For those in the music business, when is old, too old?

Let’s say you are an aging professional athlete who has enjoyed a successful career in your sport but you are no longer competing at a peak professional level. Coaches notice. Fans notice. What are your options? You can retire or risk being cut from the team. Or you might be demoted to the bench or to a lower-level league. But continuing as a starter for a team that wants to win is out of the question.

Now suppose you are a musician? Here your options may be murkier. If you play in the violin section in a major symphony orchestra, you may be able to continue long after your peak playing days are over. Assuming you are not the concertmaster and are not being asked to play solos, chances are you might be able to coast for a long time, performing along with many others who are playing the same part. Since the elimination of mandatory retirement in symphony orchestras and with union protections making it difficult to fire older players, many orchestras include members who look as though they just arrived from a retirement home. If asked to re-audition to win their positions back, most would not pass the test.  

Pianist Mieczysław Horszowski at 90. He was still giving recitals at age 100. (Photo credit: Unknown photographer, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.)

But what about soloists? There the exposure is greater and the risks to a continued career more pronounced. Still the future can be murky. For some, a decline in playing ability is so obvious that presenters, critics, and audience members notice. Performers may receive bad reviews, audience members may stop buying tickets, and presenters may no longer be willing to hire older musicians. Like older athletes, the careers of these performers are pretty much over.

Yet, even this is not always the case and indeed music is one of those activities where old age can be celebrated. There is no question that pianist Mieczysław Horszowski, at the age of 100, did not have the physical dexterity he possessed as a fifty-year-old.

Yet I was one of the lucky audience members who heard Horszowski give a recital as a centenarian in 1992 and it was profound. Similarly, in his nineties, pianist Menahem Pressler had lost some of his technical proficiency. But when I presented him at that age in chamber music concerts, the list of musicians who wished to play with him was long. It seems that in many cases, great musicians are given a pass if the playing is still considered transcendent.

Menahem Pressler (right) with me when I presented him in concert. He was 92. Musicians still lined up to perform with him at that point in his career. (Photo credit: Luboshutz/Goldovsky/Wolf Family archive.)

String and wind players have a harder time with age than pianists as physical ailments and limitations appear earlier as a rule. However, surgery and physical therapy can prolong even the careers of these instrumentalists for years, especially if they are willing to work hard to regain skills. An interesting example is provided by the late violinist, Joseph Silverstein, the long-time concertmaster of the Boston Symphony Orchestra who also enjoyed a career as a soloist and chamber player.  Silverstein had a brilliant technique but as he aged, physical problems in his shoulder and neck began to take a toll. Some audience members noticed.  So did some presenters.  Silverstein was dropped from the roster of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center after many years as a member.  At such a point in a career, many musicians might prefer to retire.  Not Silverstein.  He underwent surgery and then worked very hard to regain his technical abilities.  He practiced many hours a day, unusual for a musician in his seventies.  I recall him asking me for recordings of performances where I had presented him which he studied carefully to assess his playing. In the end, Silverstein regained his proficiency and was performing successfully until he died at age 83. 

Joseph Silverstein (left) with my brother Andrew Wolf with whom he performed often. Through surgery and hard work, Silverstein was able to regain his superb technique playing concerts until age 83. (Photo credit: Luboshutz/Goldovsky/Wolf Family archive.)

When it comes to teaching, the long arc of a career can be extended further. When the legendary piano teacher Eleanor Sokoloff was in her golden years, the parent of a prospective student at the Curtis Institute of Music was concerned. The parent worried there might be problems for her pianist son starting with a teacher who was already 80 years old. The parent considered asking for a meeting with Curtis Director, pianist Gary Graffman (himself no youngster at the time), to inquire whether a younger teacher might be a better fit. In the end, the parent was advised not to make the request. As a result, the young pianist spent all five of his school years under Sokoloff’s exceptional tutelage before graduating and performing with the Philadelphia Orchestra. The famous pedagogue herself continued to teach at Curtis for another two decades until she was 105.

Eleanor Sokoloff still teaching piano at the Curtis Institute at the age of 105. (Photo credit: The Nightingale’s Sonata.)

There is another category of professionals in the music business for whom experience more than compensates for age. These individuals neither play instruments nor sing, conduct, or teach. They handle the non-musical aspects of performances—sound, lighting, scenery, costumes, props, and a host of other aspects. A recent article in the New York Times profiled some of these so-called “techies” who do their jobs day-in and day-out well into their eighties. The remarkable thing about some of them is that they do their jobs on the road as part of touring shows, adding the stress of travel and very long work days to their jobs. And while those profiled in the article were mostly associated with non-classical, popular music programs and artists, similar profiles could be written about those on the classical side.

One such senior “techie” with whom I worked was Franco Boscarino, the costume and prop master for the touring arm of Goldovsky Opera Theatre. I started as the company manager in 1971 and no one, including many who had been with the company for decades, could tell me when Franco had started in his job. When the company did its final tour in 1984, Franco was still in his job.  Most of the time, Franco was easy going and enjoyed a good joke. But when singers misplaced costumes or inadvertently moved a prop, he reverted to an Italian dialect which no one could quite understand and everyone feared. It inspired a healthy respect and discipline and his track record was exemplary.

Aloysius Maria Eli Petruccelli (known by most of his colleagues as “Al Pet,” served as technical director for many groups well into his seventies. (Photo credit: unknown photographer; LEGACY obituary.)

Another person I depended on was Aloysius Maria Eli Petruccelli (known by most of his colleagues as “Al Pet”). He was in his seventies when I was company manager for the tours and Al had the unenviable task of getting the show “on the road,” with minimal rehearsal time. This involved not only early advice on scenic design, lighting, and other aspects of the show, but supervising the stage crew who would be working performances (including carrying out rapid scene changes in different halls), training people on day-to-day set-up and strike, and working with local crews, some of whom were unionized and others not. Al Pet carried a clip board around his neck with different color magic markers with which he took copious notes. On one occasion, he appeared at a pre-performance dinner with his white shirt streaked with random color. His afternoon had been so hectic and exhausting, he explained, that he forgot to take off his shirt and magic markers before getting into the shower.

What is the secret of these remarkable individuals? Good health clearly plays a big role, but perhaps Eleanor Sokoloff put it best. “I am doing what I love. That keeps me young.”