On July 11, the musicians of the New York Philharmonic received an unexpected invitation to a video call. They had just returned from China, where the orchestra gave five concerts in three cities, and the performers had been looking forward to some downtime before they traveled to Colorado for the Bravo! Vail Music Festival, as they do every year.
The surprise meeting was called by the co-chairs of the organization’s board, investors Peter W. May and Oscar L. Tang, who told the group that Gary Ginstling, the Philharmonic’s president since July 2023, had resigned, effective immediately. Until a new president could be named, Deborah Borda, the orchestra’s two-time former president and Ginstling’s immediate predecessor, would return as “executive adviser” to run day-to-day operations. The call lasted 18 minutes, and the musicians weren’t given a chance to ask questions.
Later that day, the Philharmonic sent out a press release with the news, including a statement from Ginstling, who wrote that “the New York Philharmonic is an extraordinary institution, and it has been an honor to be a part of it. However, it has become clear to me that the institution needs a different type of leadership, and I have tendered my resignation.” (Ginstling declined to comment for this article.)
Ginstling had spent the past three months dealing with the fallout from the publication, in this magazine, of details regarding an investigation into separate sexual-misconduct allegations against Matthew Muckey, a trumpet player in the orchestra, and Liang Wang, the orchestra’s principal oboe. (Through their attorneys, both men deny all allegations of wrongdoing. Wang has since filed a $100 million lawsuit accusing New York of defamation.)
On April 18, nearly a week after the article appeared, the Philharmonic released a statement saying that Muckey and Wang were suspended with pay and that “a decision about their future with the New York Philharmonic will be made in due course.” The orchestra also announced that it was opening an investigation, led by attorney Katya Jestin, into “the culture of the New York Philharmonic in recent years.” Ginstling committed to sharing recommendations from the investigation with the public.
According to an email sent to musicians, interviews for the investigation were completed on June 14. Ginstling was apparently closely involved — he was briefed on the materials gathered by Jestin, and individuals speaking with her were told that Ginstling would have access to information they provided. According to Adam Crane, a spokesperson for the Philharmonic, May and Tang have now assumed oversight of the investigation. “They are reviewing everything and will make final decisions in consultation with board leadership,” Crane said.
Before Ginstling left, the orchestra had also launched a second investigation, led by another attorney, Tracey Levy, investigating “new allegations of sexual harassment, violence, and/or abuse alleged to have been committed by any musicians employed by the Philharmonic,” according to Crane. Emails obtained by New York show that at least three women have come forward with new allegations since that investigation began.
Last week, the Philharmonic played its final concert under music director Jaap van Zweden. His replacement, Gustavo Dudamel, doesn’t begin his duties until 2025. The twin departures of van Zweden and Ginstling leaves the two most powerful positions in the orchestra vacant at a fraught moment.
The Philharmonic will have to respond to the findings of Levy’s investigation. It will also have to determine the fate of Muckey and Wang, who remain suspended with pay. Finally, it has committed to an overhaul of its culture to “ensure a safe and respectful environment for all those who work for the Philharmonic.” These are formidable challenges — and as today, the orchestra has no president and no music director to help the institution navigate them.
This spring, while Ginstling was launching the two investigations that will determine the orchestra’s future, he took a trip to Kansas City to meet with Cara Kizer, a former French-horn player for the orchestra who, in 2010, accused Muckey of sexual assault. She reported the alleged assault to the police and eventually got an order of protection against Muckey, actions that, she felt, led to her being forced out of the Philharmonic. (Prosecutors never brought charges against Muckey.) Ginstling, Kizer said, was the first Philharmonic executive who wanted to hear about her experiences firsthand.
Shortly after Kizer’s story appeared in this magazine, Ginstling had emailed her to say that he recognized “the vital importance of addressing past and present culture issues within the New York Philharmonic,” telling her that he had directed the orchestra’s lawyers to release Kizer from the non-disparagement portion of a separation agreement that she signed in 2012. (Kizer was formally released a few days later.) “If you were ever open to speaking by phone,” Ginstling wrote at the end of his email, “please know that I would welcome the opportunity.”
After the two set up the meeting in Kansas City, Kizer asked Ginstling what he wanted to discuss. Ginstling said he didn’t have a specific agenda. “Being new to the NY Phil,” he wrote, “one hope I had was to simply learn more about the culture of the past in order to help inform changes we make and choices we make going forward.”
On May 17, they met at a coffee shop near the Kansas City Symphony, where Kizer was set to perform. Ginstling went to the meeting alone; Kizer asked a family member to attend with her. They didn’t talk about the alleged assault itself. Instead, they focused on what Kizer felt was the retaliation she experienced afterward, culminating in the orchestra denying her tenure in 2012. “In speaking to him, I wanted to describe what happened at the hands of the brass section over the next two years in the orchestra,” Kizer said.
Ginstling seemed open to her suggestions about how the organization could improve. “He talked about reforming the tenure process to make it more equitable,” Kizer said. “But mostly, he was giving me the space to talk.”
In an email a few weeks later, Ginstling wrote to Kizer to say that the orchestra would release her from the clause in her agreement that prevented her from ever seeking employment again in the orchestra. “It would be incredibly strange for me to put myself back in that situation,” Kizer said, “but I do feel like I earned that job. I feel like, in a complicated way, I would still want it if the right circumstances were in place.”
Kizer said that she was encouraged by the conversation, and she was shocked when Ginstling resigned. Now that Borda has returned as the orchestra’s de facto leader, Kizer hopes that she will be willing to continue what he started. (Borda did not respond to multiple emails requesting her comment for this article.) “No one there has ever apologized to me,” she said. “That would be a start.”
Ginstling, who before coming to the Philharmonic had spent five years as the head of the National Symphony Orchestra, was known mainly as an effective fundraiser and ticket seller, not as an artistic visionary. Borda, on the other hand, is widely respected for her musical savvy; as president, she helped the orchestra commission new works, brought in big-name artists, and is credited with convincing Dudamel to sign with the orchestra. She was also the president who finally renovated the orchestra’s concert hall after years of delays. The musicians I spoke to were excited for her return.
Kizer shares their enthusiasm and agrees Borda may be the best person to guide the Philharmonic through this difficult period. She also notes, however, that Ginstling remains the only executive who has spoken with her directly. “In the years and years since this happened, no one else in the administration has ever reached out to me,” she said. “The only people that I’ve ever spoken to were the attorneys.”
Kizer was relatively new to the Philharmonic when she came forward with her accusations. Unlike Muckey, she had not yet been granted tenure; she was a probationary member of the orchestra, meaning her performance was subject to review by her fellow musicians, who would determine whether she would be offered a tenured position. Able to speak freely about that process for the first time, Kizer sketched out a portrait of a place with skewed power dynamics and institutional indifference to her claims of assault.
Tenure committees are usually made up of about ten people. Muckey was supposed to be on Kizer’s original committee, but he resigned before its first meeting. The tenure decision stretched out over nearly two years, during which, according to Kizer, the reception she got from some of the remaining members of the committee quickly turned hostile.
Several current and former musicians and staff told me that the orchestra’s former principal horn, Philip Myers, was an important player in Kizer’s tenure decision, with one describing him as the “most powerful musician in the orchestra” before his 2017 departure. Erik Ralske, currently the principal horn of the Metropolitan Opera orchestra and a former horn in the Philharmonic, described Myers as someone who “would often get his way just through intimidation” and who “made it clear, when you were in conflict with him, that he was going to win at all costs.”
Kizer said that when she first joined the orchestra, before she reported the alleged assault, she felt that Myers admired her playing. She also knew that her success in the section would be dependent, in a large part, on her relationship with him. (Myers did not respond to multiple emails requesting comment for this article.)
When Kizer came forward with her allegation against Muckey, Myers was initially supportive. “Very sorry to hear about things,” he wrote her in an email. “Do whatever you need to do for yourself. You are special, valued, everyone wants the best for you.”
Kizer said she had not received the same support from other members of the brass section. Philip Smith, then the principal trumpet, had emailed Kizer to express concerns about the effect her allegation would have on the orchestra. (Smith did not respond to multiple emails requesting comment for this article.) “While I do not know facts, and am aware that there is a police investigation taking place, I am greatly distressed by this event and disturbed by the damage this has done to all of us individually, as well as the institution,” Smith wrote. “I am not interested in accusations; that will be determined. But I need to share with you my feelings on this matter. We have been entrusted with the privilege of being caretakers of the heritage of this institution.”
Though Kizer was worried when she read Smith’s email, she thought she could continue in the orchestra if Myers supported her. But she says she felt his support waver after an incident in the fall of 2010. After Muckey allegedly got too close to her during a rehearsal, Kizer contacted the district attorney’s office to accuse him of violating the protective order. (Muckey was arrested, according to a police report, but charges were later dropped. “The district attorney dismissed the case,” a lawyer for Muckey wrote, because “there was no basis to the charge alleged.”) By the following May, Kizer felt that Myers was routinely targeting her in front of her colleagues.
In one incident described in a text message sent at the time, Kizer wrote to a colleague that Myers “made a snide comment down the section” about her playing. At the end of the rehearsal, Kizer heard Myers approach Alan Gilbert, then the orchestra’s music director, and tell him that she didn’t “know the music.” (Gilbert did not respond to multiple emails requesting comment for this article.)
A little while later, according to the text message, Kizer spoke to Gilbert in his office. She told him about what had happened over the past seven months. “He agreed that it did seem personal,” she wrote, “and told me he’d keep an eye out.”
Kizer was surprised to see Myers standing outside Gilbert’s door as she left Gilbert’s office. She recalled making eye contact with Myers as she walked down the hall. “It made me realize that I’m not supposed to go over his head,” she said. She was denied tenure on November 3, 2011.
Ralske said that he views Kizer’s story as a much-needed opportunity for the orchestral world to examine outdated institutional practices. “Cara’s story is more than a story of alleged sexual assault,” Ralske said. “It’s systems that failed her, seemingly, both criminally and in the workplace.”
Ralske called for orchestras to change the tenure process, pointing to the fact that they have already adopted blind, behind-the-screen audition process to improve equity in hiring. Without anonymous, objective, quantitative feedback, this process can be “so politically charged just because of the power of a few key players.”
Adam Crane said that both the musicians union and the orchestra’s management will discuss changes to audition and tenure processes in upcoming negotiations. The outcome of the two investigations will offer the orchestra another opportunity for reform, and the chance to be transparent as it does so. For some, that moment can’t come soon enough. “There’s a desperation for things to be different and a fear that change won’t happen anytime soon,” one current musician said. “So the question is, how do we do that? And how quickly can that happen?”
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