Classical: Mr Mahler's first choice

In 1897 Richard Strauss visited the newly built Concertgebouw ("concert hall" in Dutch) in what were then the semi-rural outskirts of Amsterdam. Already one of the great composer-conductors of the age, and used to working with the best orchestras around, he declared the standard of playing offered by the nine-year-old Concertgebouw Orchestra to be "truly splendid, full of youthful freshness and spirit". Two years later Strauss dedicated his symphonic poem, Ein Heldenleben, specifically "to Willem Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam."

There has always been something special about the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra (as it was recently renamed). This season it celebrates its 110th anniversary, and for most of its life the musical world has been used to taking its world-class standard for granted. The glittering European diadem of the Vienna and Berlin Philharmonics, the Dresden Staatskapelle, the Leipzig Gewandhaus and the Amsterdam Concertgebouw remains pretty much as it was a century ago.

What makes the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra a phenomenon different from its Austrian and German counterparts, however, is the nature of the city around it. Amsterdam's unpretentiousness and charm are the expression of a quite different cultural world from that of the gilded halls of Vienna or the bombastic largesse of Berlin.

It is unlikely that the citizens of Amsterdam who raised their new concert hall in the late 19th century imagined that the resident orchestra would at once ascend into the premier league and stay there. But the hall itself helped to make this possible. The Concertgebouw is an unselfconscious temple of classical music, with its handsome facade, the huge golden lyre perched on its rooftop, and its simple cream-and-red-velvet interior.

There are in fact two halls - the large one, used for orchestral concerts, and a small one for recitals and chamber music. Around the balcony and ceiling of each are inscribed the names of the great composers, perceived from an earlier Dutch perspective: Wagenaar beside Tchaikovsky, Dopper next to Debussy, and Rontgen alongside Richard Strauss, while in the small hall Rubinstein and Hiller rub shoulders with Mozart and Beethoven.

"The entire building was refurbished for our centenary 10 years ago," says Sjoerd Van den Burgh, the orchestra's genial public relations manager, who showed me round. "There was some quite heated debate about replacing these now obscure names with better known ones. But after a while it was decided to leave them where they are, as historical names in a historic building. I've never heard a note of Hiller's music myself. Perhaps we should do a concert series and find out what it's like."

The name placed in the centre on the main hall's balcony is that of Mahler, whose music was championed in the Concertgebouw long before it became standard repertoire the world over. Mahler came to conduct his brand new Fifth Symphony in 1906, and it has remained one of the orchestra's party pieces ever since (they play it in the Royal Festival Hall next Thursday). Today new and newish works by Dutch and other composers continue to be programmed: for instance by Rihm, De Vries, Feldman and Bartk, which I heard the Concertgebouw Orchestra play - superbly, under Peter Eotvos - in the large hall, to a large and appreciative audience.

It's all true, by the way; the Concertgebouw's acoustic is every bit as warm and spacious as legend has it. It makes a huge difference for players to be able to rehearse and perform in such surroundings, week in and week out. The Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra's characteristic sound - burnished brass, supple woodwind, wonderfully mellow strings, every department combining solo virtuosity with an instinct for blending together - owes much to the feedback of its surroundings.

"During the refurbishment we were offered the chance to move out for two years," says Niels Le Large, one of the orchestra's percussionists, and spokesman for the players' artistic committee. "We it would be too risky. So we walked through the mud to get to the hall. I remember when the back of the concert platform was more or less open to the elements. We once played a concert wrapped up in our overcoats. But it was worth it."

You need more than just a marvellous auditorium, of course, to operate at the Concertgebouw Orchestra's level. As Le Large explained to me: "The artistic side of the orchestra's work is basically run by a troika. The three components are the chief conductor, the artistic leader - here he's called that, rather than artistic director - and the artistic committee of orchestra players, for whom I speak. Each of us has what I call an inverted veto. We reckon on resolving differences long before we have to use it. That's the whole point."

"There's a saying here in Holland, that everything functions horizontally," says the American-born Donald Blakeslee, the Concertgebouw's tuba player since 1964 and president of the Orchestra Union. "Administrative hierarchies don't matter too much. I think that's why the structure works. Everyone really wants it to work. I put a lot of time into trying to sort out with our general manager the logistical problems that an orchestra always has from day to day - never mind touring as well.

"Something that concerns me for the future is that many of the younger players don't seem too interested in getting involved in this kind of decision-making. Maybe it's because things in life have become more short- term, and jobs are less secure. It's made younger people more contained than they were. Perhaps even defensive."

The changed climate affects the evolution of chief conductors, too. The Concertgebouw Orchestra has only ever had five: the first, Willem Kes, was succeeded by Mengelberg, who held the post for 50 years until 1945. Mengelberg was followed by Eduard van Beinum to 1959, Bernard Haitink from 1963 to 1988, and now Riccardo Chailly.

"The orchestra has always had a progressive policy towards younger conductors," explains Le Large. "All of those who eventually became chief conductor here started working with the orchestra when they were quite young, and grew into the position over time.

"We're very pleased with how the relationship with Maestro Chailly has worked out. But I think it's fair to say that he didn't have as long to confirm his potential as chief conductor as his predecessors had. It's just one of the many ways in which the world has changed around us. As it has changed around everyone."

So while the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra may appear to sail serenely through the decades, with its standing as one of the world's great orchestras apparently bomb-proof, life doesn't seem quite like that to those who work in it.

"People tend to think that we have a comparable situation here to Berlin or Vienna," says Van den Burg. "If only we did. When the hall was refurbished, only one-third of the cost came from local or national government, the other two-thirds from sponsorship. Our players earn on average about half what they would in Berlin or Vienna, or with the big American orchestras. So far, with what we can offer here, we're still able to attract some of the best players in the world. But we can't afford to sit and rely on this continuing."

It's a view echoed by Niels Le Large. "Recently I was talking to a colleague in the Rotterdam Philharmonic. He was trying to tell me that while other Dutch orchestras might be struggling to succeed, here in the Concertgebouw we have everything - a wonderful hall, a world-class reputation, tours, recording contracts. So it's easy for us. And I said, it's not true. It is just not true. Of course, we have a special tradition here, with standards to match. But those standards have to be constantly worked for. And fought for. It's what we're here to do."

The Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, conducted by Riccardo Chailly, plays Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto (with Joshua Bell) and Mahler's Fifth Symphony at the RFH, London, 5 Nov, 7.30pm. Further concerts on 4 Feb and 4 May 1999. Information: 0171-960 4242