The Boys from Budapest

Conductors Eugene Ormandy, 58, and Fritz Reiner, 69, are two boys from Budapest, but musically they have never talked the same language. Ormandy's orchestral speech is as rich and gusty as Reiner's is precise and lucid; Ormandy's Philadelphia Orchestra is famed for its massive sweep and sumptuous sound, Reiner's Chicago Symphony for its fine articulation and meticulous attack. Last week the two Hungarians swapped podiums and gave their audiences a fascinating demonstration of how quickly a first-rate conductor can teach a first-rate orchestra to talk his own idiom.

Fire & Ice. When short, balding Conductor Ormandy stepped before the Orchestra Hall audience, he had only two rehearsals under his belt. He had decided on a "good box office" program of standards: Bach's C Minor Passacaglia and Fugue, Beethoven's Symphony No. 7, Brahms's Symphony No. 1.

Unlike Reiner, Ormandy uses no baton. He swiveled and swayed on the podium, sweeping his arms in long, scythe-like motions, which blurred individual phrases but drew from his orchestra the longspun melodic line that is Ormandy's chief delight. The audience applauded briskly, and most critics splashed their reviews with such words as "energetic." "singing," "blazing." But for all the blaze, Ormandy's tempi were questionable, and his lush handling of the strings in the Bach reminded Chicago Sun-Times Critic Robert C. Marsh of "chocolate syrup" with ''a whipped-cream decoration." Ormandy achieved a far more polished and impressive performance with his second program, again including Beethoven's Seventh and William Schuman's Credendum.

While Ormandy was in Chicago, mandarin-faced Conductor Reiner walked onto the stage of Philadelphia's Academy of Music, acknowledged the orchestra's standing tribute with a frozen smile and launched into a program that included Berlioz' Overture to Beatrice and Benedict, Mozart's "Linz" Symphony, Ravel's Rapsodie Esbagnole, Prokofiev's Symphony No. 5. Although Reiner had rehearsed the orchestra only three times, his performance was a stunning revelation.

In place of Ormandy's impressionistic tonal colors and blurred instrumental outlines, Reiner offered a lyrically transparent reading in which every phrase stood out as though etched with scalpel. The tempi were firm as bedrock, the contrasts brilliantly modulated. In both Philadelphia and Carnegie Hall, where he repeated the program, Reiner ticked off the beat with tiny flicks of his baton. To his audiences he revealed sculptured details that many had never heard before.

Praise & Blame. Conductors Ormandy and Reiner are as different in personality as they are in artistic approach. Ormandy maintains a casual attitude toward his men, is quick to praise and slow to blame, has been known to accept suggestions from visiting soloists. Reiner is as tough on visiting artists (a current bitter antagonist: Artur Rubinstein) as on his own men. He rarely forgives an error. When annoyed, he is apt to reduce his always small beat even further, which once prompted a cellist to bring a telescope to rehearsal ("I'm looking for the beat," he explained). "To Reiner," says a man who has played under him, "the orchestra is like a piano. If a key sticks, he kicks it."

After their guest stints were over last week, Conductors Reiner and Ormandy were loud in their compliments for their orchestras. Said Reiner of the Philadelphia: "They can do anything!" Said Ormandy of the Chicago: "One of the great orchestras in the country!"

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.