Beethoven and Madame Mao: a personal memoir of the Philadelphia Orchestra's 1973 China tour.

• Author: Tenny, Francis B.

Text:

When President Nixon came back from his historic trip to China he announced among other things that the U.S. and China would start exchanging cultural delegations. Specifically, in the next months the U.S. would send to China: American basketball teams, swimming teams, a group of top scientists and scholars, and the Philadelphia Orchestra.

By chance, I was in the right place at the right time. As Director of Cultural Relations with East Asia in the Department of State, it was up to me with my colleagues to select, or to set up the means of selection for, those who were to go to China and to negotiate with the Chinese Government for their reception, schedules, and itinerary. The opportunity came without advance warning. There were plenty of Americans eager to go, though not everyone would accept the opportunity offered.

For the scholars and scientists, there was already a private, non-governmental, non-profit group organized and active under the name of The Committee on Scholarly Communication with the Peoples Republic of China. Led by some of the top American scholars of China, the Committee hoped to reopen lines of communication with scholars in China, communication which had been largely broken off since the Chinese revolution 25 years earlier. The Chinese told us they wanted natural scientists. We agreed but insisted absolutely that every delegation of a dozen or so would include at least one American China specialist, a social scientist or humanist fluent in Chinese. That, the Chinese did not like, but it was our condition that they should accept anyone we proposed. The Committee was well able to make top-level, non-political selections. The program started early and ran well, with a minimum of State Department participation other than financial support and a blessing to Chinese authorities when needed.

Sports teams were another matter. The Chinese insisted on top national all-star teams in men's and women's amateur basketball and swimming. The U. S. did not have national teams in these amateur sports except in those years when a one-time Olympic team was organized. We told the Chinese we would send the No. 1 top college basketball men's and women's teams in the country. Won't do, the Chinese said. Must be an all-star team. No can do, we said. We don't have one. But how about UCLA, that year the universally recognized No.1 men's college team? With some grudging, the Chinese accepted, and I negotiated a sports travel contract with the UCLA officials, who were delighted at the opportunity for fame and travel. Some time later, however, their star player decided not to go to China and the rest of the team promptly voted not to go without him. So we had to "unpersuade" the Chinese that UCLA was our best team. There was no clear consensus on a No. 2 college team that year, and there were eligibility problems with some schools. We went back to China's original demand for an all-star team. We recruited a top college coach, asked him to pick the best players in colleges anywhere and train them together for a couple of weeks in Tennesseeat State Department expense.

Women's basketball was not widely played on the intercollegiate circuit in 1973, but there was a small college in Nebraska that was accepted as best in the country in women's basketball. They were happy to go. In 1973 basketball was already highly developed in China, and these tours were successful and popular.

Swimming, unlike basketball, is an individual sport, and despite some eligibility problems it was not difficult to find a top coach who could select and prepare men's and women's teams.

This brings us to the Philadelphia Orchestra, where Nixon did not leave the choice to me. The President made a good choice, maybe because he knew and liked Eugene Ormandy, Ormandy proved to be a great choice, not only because he was a great musician and conductor, but because he proved amazingly flexible in living within the boundaries of unexpected and undefined political restrictions that might have been rejected by many prima donna maestros, to say nothing of orchestra managements and unions.

I called Boris Sokoloff, Manager of the Philadelphia Orchestra, who became my colleague and partner in all negotiations with the Chinese.

By this time...