In New York State: Culture's Front Porch

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Tall and blond, he looks like a beach boy in his cutoffs and tennis shirt. He is Peter de Vries, 25, with two years toward a doctorate in violin performance at the University of Indiana, and just now the first violinist of the Chautauqua Festival Orchestra. He says something, laughing, to Evan Wilson, 20, the principal violist, and then puts his violin under his chin,and plays an A. A's of various textures rise up from the instruments played by his colleagues, and De Vries sits down.

Conductor Nathan Gottschalk, 66, stands up. He is a stocky, cheerful-looking man in rumpled pants and a short-sleeved shirt who during the school year directs the student orchestra at the State University of New York at Albany. As the rehearsal gets under way, he is asked how his 83 players are doing. He gives a "Who knows?" shrug, like a man who knows very well indeed, and grins happily. "Listen tonight!"

Such feelings of anticipation scent the air here at the Chautauqua Institution. This extraordinary cultural encampment, now part arts festival and part religious and philosophical retreat, has convened every summer since 1874 on the shaded shores of Lake Chautauqua, 60 miles southwest of Buffalo in western New York State. Some 6,000 lovers of fresh air and philharmony gather here for classes, lectures and performances in the arts, sciences and humanities. But music is the big draw. Three full orchestras are in residence: the Chautauqua Symphony, composed of professionals and conducted by Varujan Kojian; a youth orchestra conducted by Anthony Milograno; and Gottschalk's college-age group.

The big amphitheater is made of wood, and its vast roof arches gently overhead like the soundboard of a huge violin. It begins to resonate to the sonorities of Dvořák's Eighth Symphony. "Wood is the best acoustic material there is," Gottschalk says. "Concrete is dead. Wood is alive." Appearing peaceful and intent, hearing nothing that requires correction, he lets the Dvořák build and flow.

In a bleacher at the rear of the amphitheater, beyond the shade of the roof, a man with an unbuttoned, flowered shirt suns his ample midriff, his eyes serenely shut. He could be an orthodontist or a hardware-store owner, but he is probably the minister of a prosperous Protestant suburban church. Chautauqua was founded by Methodists as a boot camp for Sunday-school teachers, and even today an empty bottle of sarsaparilla (alcohol is not sold on the grounds) flung into the night is likely to bean an aestivating pastor. To one side of the amphitheater is the stately United Presbyterian House, red brick with white trim, and to the other side is the substantial United Church of Christ Center, red brick with yellow trim. On the 856 acres owned by the institution, there are more church buildings than tennis courts, and there are a lot of tennis courts.