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On the theory that 18 well-done productions are better than 26 haphazard jobs, he cut the company's repertory to make more rehearsal time for each opera. He took one look at the opera's anemic ballet troupe and got Antony Tudor in as ballet master. The Met's ballet is still nothing to dance in the streets about, but at least it is on its toes. (Years ago a secretary explained to Bing that ballerinas who got too old to dance became secretaries at the Met. "Curious," murmured Bing. "I thought it was the other way around.")
Preaching that an appearance on the Met stage is a unique honor, Bing insisted that the principal singers—who in the past were repeatedly lured away by the more lucrative concert circuit—either sign up for a longer season or none at all. The public responded in kind; in Bing's 16-year tenure, the Met season has expanded from 18 to 31 weeks, and the number of subscribers has grown from 5,000 to 17,000, with another 3,000 waiting longingly in line to get into a house that was 97% sold out last season.
On the Plus Side. For their money they get the greatest roster of international talent in a longer season than any other opera house. Nowhere but at the Met, for almost any given performance, could two complete casts be mustered that would boast such operatic deities as Sopranos Renata Tebaldi and Leontyne Price, Tenors Richard Tucker and Franco Corelli, Baritones Robert Merrill and Tito Gobbi, Bassos Cesare Siepi and Nicolai Ghiaurov—not to mention a bevy of most attractive younger sopranos such as Anna Moffo, Teresa Stratas and Mirella Freni.
The Met gets top talent because Bing is there first, though not always with the most; a few houses, for example in Chicago and San Francisco, in the past have offered principal singers more for a performance; but now the Met's top of $4,000 is on a par with most houses'. Though the state-subsidized houses of Europe do well to schedule a singer a month before a performance, Efficiency Whiz Bing already has most of his 1969 season all booked.
Moreover, he does it on a nonsubsi-dized budget ($10 million for this sea son), which, he proudly points out, "I have never failed to meet within 1 %, and that always on the plus side." Another considerable profit flowing from Bing's careful planning comes in the form of singers' appreciation. They get their Met contracts set months and even seasons in advance; this enables them to schedule outside performances with confidence. No other opera house offers such service.
Calling the Tunes. Bing's plus-side rating with the critics, however, has been less spectacular. He has been skewered for "rank ineptness" in casting, "scandalous" deficiency in hiring