Symphony Hall house crew is on the outs

Juan Jimenez remembers the phone ringing. That night, 15 years ago, a man had sneaked into Symphony Hall and lighted a series of small fires. Just past midnight, Jimenez and his 13 house crew buddies got the call: The firemen were gone. The crew members were needed to clean up.

He hopped into his Eldorado and sped across the Tobin Bridge from his home in Chelsea.

``I drove about 90 miles an hour to be there right away," remembers Jimenez. ``We didn't save the building, but we were there."

At the time, the Boston Symphony Orchestra's management praised Jimenez and his colleagues, noting in interviews that they'd insisted on doing the work without being paid.

But these days, BSO officials won't discuss their house crew. That's because management has decided to cut the crew's overtime -- a long-accepted staffing practice -- and has offered all nine workers a severance package to retire early, according to house crew members. Jimenez, who now lives in Revere, took the offer earlier this summer, though he already regrets it.

``They say they want to cut the budget, but I don't think they know what they're doing," says Jimenez, 52, a painter who worked 21 years at Symphony Hall. ``This crew, we gave our lives for Symphony Hall. I love the members of the orchestra, my co-workers. I will miss this building."

The house crew conflict is complicated, observers say. All of the crew members have specific daytime jobs -- carpenter, painter, electrician, for example -- which they do typically from morning until 4 p.m. Tasks include everything from building podiums for conductors to shellacking floors and painting hallways.

But at the end of the afternoon, on concert nights, crew members have traditionally taken on loosely defined alternative roles. They often eat dinner and change out of their work clothes into slacks and dress shirts. Then they roam through the hall. They move tables, work security, and help some concertgoers to their seats.

``They're kind and they're gentle and they do everything they can to help," says Edna Kalman, a BSO life trustee who has trouble walking. ``They're the backbone of the organization, and if this is what's happening, the organization is changing, and not for the better."

It is no secret that BSO management has wanted to cut overtime for the non-unionized crew for years. Cost is not the only issue, as the symphony will save no more than $250,000 by making the overtime cuts, according to a symphony official who did not want to be identified because BSO officials prefer not to speak on personnel matters. The move is also about modernizing an old-fashioned way of operating the department, the official said.

BSO facilities manager Robert Barnes, who supervises the crew, declined to discuss the issue through a spokeswoman.

But Daniel Gustin, the BSO's assistant managing director from 1984 to 1999, said that he had been concerned about the health of workers putting in so many hours.

``By basing their compensation so much on overtime and sort of locking it in, we were creating situations that were very unhealthy for those guys," says Gustin, now director of the Gilmore International Keyboard Festival. ``You can't work those long hours and be productive and healthy over the long run."

Wilmoth Griffiths, a house crew member who is the BSO's supervisor of building services, says that his base pay is currently around $32 per hour. With a 40-hour work week, that would garner $66,560 a year. But Griffiths says he has made as much as $140,000 a year including overtime.

The orchestra's powerful Players' Committee has offered support for the crew members, sending an e-mail letter to management earlier this month that was obtained by the Globe from a BSO staffer. In the message, the committee members said they were concerned that temporary workers would be brought in to replace the house crew.

``Their specialties are demanded at all hours," wrote players Ron Barron and Fenwick Smith on behalf of the committee. ``Their additional skills, not the least of which is front house relationship with patrons, including safety and security, have been honed over many years of experience unique to this environment."

In the context of the crew conflict, the letter also referenced a potential BSO budget deficit, but a BSO spokeswoman said that the orchestra will finish the year having lost between $500,000 and $1 million, not out of line with previous years.

Smith and Barron declined comment when reached by phone recently.

Management won't say why changes are being made now, but Griffiths says that it was the arrival of Barnes last year that precipited the cuts. Barnes replaced Robert Gleason, who retired after 17 years at the BSO.

``This guy Barnes comes in, he cuts like a knife," says Griffiths, who notes that he was questioned earlier this summer after working more than 60 hours of overtime during two weeks of BSO concerts.

Griffiths concedes that outsiders might not understand why crew members have to work so much overtime. But the hours were not only part of a tradition in Symphony Hall, they were, he says, ``mandatory" when he was hired in 1972. With the prospect of no overtime, Griffiths, 67, will retire later this month, three years before he had planned.

``Base pay wasn't great," says Griffiths. ``The overtime is what made you take home what looked like a check."

Geoff Edgers can be reached at gedgers@globe.com.