During the Chicago Symphony Orchestra‘s October visit to Mexico City, music director Riccardo Muti was seen having lunch in the hotel lobby with French horn player Dale Clevenger, the leader of the orchestra’s horn section. That they shared lunch was interesting; that they shared it publicly was significant.

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December 2011 brought another mixed review. “Clevenger fumbled his entrance in the slow movement but redeemed himself in the finale,” von Rhein observed. This past June he could report that “Clevenger sustained the big horn solo well.” Was the principal horn returning to form? Von Rhein does not allow us to think so. Reporting from Mexico in October, he told us that “you could almost hear the sigh of relief among his colleagues when french horn Dale Clevenger made it through the performance unscathed.” And last month, reviewing Mahler’s Third at Symphony Center, von Rhein called the “shockingly poor playing from the horns and trumpets (the principal horn and trumpet in particular), a major blot on an otherwise intelligent and absorbing performance.”

Von Rhein was not alone in his distress. His Sun-Times counterpart, Andrew Patner, allowed in his review of the same concert that “the problems of the principal horn are, alas, by now well-known. That he takes his colleagues with him as they must vamp and play to cover his difficulties has become saddening.” And the write-up by online critic Lawrence Johnson at Chicago Classical Review alluded to “the weekly high-wire act from the CSO’s principal horn.”

Dale Clevenger, 69, has been principal horn of the CSO and one of the world’s legendary orchestral musicians for exactly 44 years now. In addition to his unmatched abilities as a section leader and his contributions as a teacher for almost a half-century, he has been a conscience of the CSO and an outspoken critic of any moves by the orchestra toward mediocrity. His outspokenness has earned him enemies who know little about his instrument.

So it is no joy to write these words, but the level of his playing this season and his technical troubles in high-profile solos in both Chicago and at Carnegie Hall over the last month have been far below the standards of the CSO, standards that he more than any other current member of the orchestra has maintained and defended. As with a great athlete in his twilight, as with many of his colleagues who faced similar periods after decades of distinguished service to the CSO, this cannot be an easy time for Clevenger. But it’s time for a cap on a unique orchestral career that should be noted for its many triumphs and not a late struggle against time.

“So, Mr. Andrew Patner . . . your review may have felt really good to write, but all you did was alienate informed readers.”

Yet as musical collaborators proud to make music at a level no orchestra in the world can surpass, they would understand that something needed to be done. They would wish Clevenger had left gracefully when the getting was good.