Rumors Greatly Exaggerated.

Franz Joseph Haydn (1732- 1809) was one of the fortunate masters who lived long enough to be universally appreciated by the audiences of his day. Yet in 1805, while he was living comfortably in Vienna, a rumor spread throughout Europe that Haydn had died. Many composers wrote memorial pieces in his honor, and in Paris a special concert was arranged that included Mozart's Requiem. When Haydn received news of his demise, he sent a letter thanking the musicians for their well- meant gestures. His good humor was evident: "Had I only known of it in time, I could have traveled to Paris to conduct the Requiem myself!"

Similar rumors abound today about the future, or lack of future, of classical music itself. Such naysayers, of course, are not new to us. The picture of a bearded prophet comes to mind, walking the city streets with a placard declaring, "The End Is Near!" Yet strangely enough, the self-proclaimed prophets who are loudly announcing the imminent demise of classical music are often taken quite seriously by younger musicians -- who perhaps fear for their own future.

But these Chicken Littles ought to know better, for the facts are very easy to find. According to the American Symphony Orchestra League (the premier watchdog organization of the classical scene), ticket sales are not falling, but rising rapidly. And here are a few other revealing facts:

-- Thirty-two million concert seats were filled in the 2000-01 season, topping 30 million for the sixth year in a row, and this is up 16 percent over ten years ago.

-- In the same season, America's 1,200 orchestras gave 36,437 concerts. This is 10 percent more than the previous year, 23 percent more than five years ago, and 45 percent more than ten years ago. And this does not even include the many performances given by international orchestras touring in the United States.

-- The orchestras earned a record $775 million -- 5.5 percent higher than the previous year, 37 percent higher than five years ago, and 70 percent higher than ten years ago.

-- Concert-ticket income totaled $504 million, up 4.6 percent from the previous year. (And we shouldn't forget about other classical avenues, such as opera, solo recitals, and chamber music.)

-- Private and public philanthropy toward classical music is up as well. Total support in 2000-01 reached $560 million (this includes $205 million from individuals, $91.5 million from corporate sponsors, and $69 million from foundations) -- 7.5 percent higher than the previous year, 44.5 percent higher than five years ago, and 75 percent higher than ten years ago.

If you present such clear findings to a classical-music naysayer, he may grudgingly admit that things aren't too bad after all -- at least for now. "But what about future audiences?" he will ask. With perverted relish he will point out that within many classical-music audiences, one usually finds a good deal of gray hair. The average age of concertgoers is at least in the middle years, and there are often few young people. Who will be the audiences of tomorrow?

These worries, too, are unfounded. How many students today are majoring in music within America's colleges and universities? What would you guess? 5,000? 10,000? According to carefully administered surveys given by the National Association of Schools of Music (NASM), there are almost 100,000 music majors today, and their numbers are growing. Most of these young people are studying the standard classical literature: Bach, Beethoven, etc. To be sure, many will not find jobs in the competitive world of music, but they will all continue to love classical music and support its continuance.

We should also remember music history, which indicates that classical music is a kind of "acquired taste." If you look closely at the hundreds of paintings (and, later, photographs) of concerts from 1600 to the present day, you may notice something odd about the audiences: There is never anyone present under twenty! Never! Beethoven's audiences had gray hair, too. There weren't any teenagers at Mozart's concerts either. In other words, the naysayers in 1800 might have said the same thing we hear today: "Who will come to tomorrow's concerts?"

How can this be? Were all the people in classical-music audiences born at the age of forty? Hardly -- but many of them did not develop a taste for classical music until their forties. I teach and write books on classical-music appreciation, and the majority of buyers are not teenagers, but those in their middle years. They listened to popular music in their youth, but decided to give classical music a chance after having children of their own. Many of them fall under the spell of this acquired taste, and become dedicated concertgoers until their deaths. This is how the concert halls of the world have always been filled, and there is nothing on the horizon to suggest that it will cease.

Finally, a determined naysayer will resort to decrying the present state of music composition. "Where are the Beethovens of today?" they will demand. "Modern composers either write only popular music or disturb us with that dissonant garbage they call 'contemporary music.'"

Again, we respond by examining music history. The "test of time," which has given us the masterpieces of classical music, is a kind of sieve. In any given decade, thousands of composers are writing music that is little understood by their contemporaries. Yet over the years, the great ones rise to the top, while the lesser composers are mercifully forgotten. Many masters, such as Schubert, were virtually unknown during their lifetimes, yet now their genius is finally recognized. So, at any given time, it is very difficult to identify the true Beethovens among us; but they are living right now, and they always will be.

There is simply no reason whatsoever to believe in the so-called Death of Classical Music -- and yet we continue to see titles in bookstores along the lines of Who Killed Classical Music? and Who Needs Classical Music? and The Death of Classical Music. Someone must be buying these books and, even worse, buying their jumbled arguments. Why is there such illusion on this subject? The principal reason is that most Americans have little sense of history. If one were to graph the growth of classical music in the past three centuries or so, the resulting line would be gradually rising, right up to the present. To many people, however, it looks as though it were falling -- because of another line that can be placed on the same graph: With the advent of recorded music in the early 20th century, we have witnessed an unprecedented growth in popular music, which could be represented by a line soaring upward in logarithmic acceleration.

If you, like the vast majority of Americans today, live on the top of that soaring line of popular culture, you may erroneously think that classical music is a relic from the past. Indeed, since pop culture so inundates our daily existence, millions don't even know that anything else exists! So, if they happen to look down from their giddy heights, they may see the line representing classical music drawing farther and farther away from them. Taking their personal position as "the norm," they will mistakenly judge classical-music interest to be waning while it actually continues to grow -- though not with the rollercoaster velocity of popular music.

And that's fine. That is, we who love the sublime beauty and majesty of classical music are happy to see its popularity gradually plodding along as it has for centuries. We are not concerned with what dizzying heights the pop culture may reach. Michael Jacksons will come and go, but we will still be at the concert hall, reveling in Brahms's symphonies, and even wrestling with the more challenging music of contemporary composers. The test of time will eventually sort them out as well. Perhaps that is why the masterpieces of classical music are called classics.