A little while ago, I achieved a lifetime ambition. Not only did I conduct a full-size symphony orchestra; we performed Beethoven's Eroica Symphony, in my view the greatest symphony ever written. And not only was there an audience; it even clapped.

I say "we," because I considered that we were, for the piece's 50 minutes, a collective entity. The sum of our individual parts was far, far greater than anything we could individually have achieved. And equally, if any of us had made a mistake, it would have affected the others, too. I may only have been waving my arms around, but if I'd waved them at the wrong time or in the wrong place then the result would have been chaos.

What never crossed my mind, however, was that because I was the only one of us who was busy throughout the piece, I should have been paid more than the horn players, who were only needed sporadically, or even the strings, which had moments when they were silent. I am not, after all, a "name" conductor. No one has ever paid money to hear me conduct: they come for the piece. The same goes for orchestra: No one has ever paid to hear a specific member of an orchestra play. They come to hear the orchestra as a whole.

In the view of 16 violinists in the Bonn-based Beethovenorchester, however, I should indeed have taken the biggest share of the money. They have decided to sue their management for a pay increase on the grounds that they play more music than the brass, the woodwinds and the percussion. The violinists argue -- the case goes to court next month -- that they should be paid an extra €100, or about $121, for each rehearsal or performance.

The orchestra's deputy director, Michael Horn, told Agence France-Presse that the violinists "feel disadvantaged because, depending on the compositions being performed, they are required to play more than wind players." And they are, they say, being generous in their demand. As reported on a BBC Web site, one violinist said: "We could have calculated the surcharge per semi-quaver, but we chose to take an easier course." Sometimes, in other words, the brass get a movement or two off -- so the strings should be paid more.

There's only one word for the idea: ridiculous. Last week I heard the Amsterdam Concertgebouw perform Bruckner's Ninth Symphony. I haven't added up the number of notes played by each section of the orchestra, but it's safe to assume that the violins had, as they almost always do, the most to play. But the measure of a great performance of Bruckner's Ninth -- the same goes for all of the Austrian composer's symphonies -- is the brass. The strings provide a foundation over which the brass soar. If one of the violinists makes a mistake, it barely matters: It will be hidden by sound coming from the rest of the strings. But if a brass player makes just one, tiny mistake, it will ruin an entire passage. The word musicians use is "exposed." They all were, however, perfect. When the conductor, Bernard Haitink, beckoned them to take a bow after the performance, the audience rose as one to acclaim them.

If the Beethovenorchester's violinists had their way, the brass players would have been given a sandwich and a cup of coffee as a thank you and been grateful for it. The violinists would have scooped up their payment in gold bullion and returned to their mansions to be waited on hand and foot and fed peeled grapes. They had, after all, played the most notes.

I heard the downside of what it means to be exposed a few days ago when the English National Opera performed "The Rheingold," the first part of Wagner's Ring Cycle. The introduction is -- should be -- one of the most delicate, haunting, evocative passages in all music, depicting the flow of the Rhine itself. Listening, one should be transported out of the opera house and into a different world. Unfortunately, however, the ENO's brass is far from top of the range, and the first few bars were marred by a series of split notes. The Rhine it was not. Working on the logic of the violinists from Bonn, perhaps the brass players responsible should have their pay docked.

I have to confess never to having heard the Beethovenorchester perform, but I do have one observation that the dissident fiddlers might care to ponder. Their orchestra is not -- how to put this politely -- one of the world's leading bands. It's not even one of Germany's. Indeed, there are some who would argue it's not Bonn's. If I were a violinist in the orchestra, I'd think long and hard before demanding that my performance be measured before I am paid. And I might find the orchestra manager asking me, "If you are so great, why aren't you playing in the Berliner Philharmoniker?"