At a recent seminar held by one of the UK’s regional orchestras, I was put on the spot: what steps did I think the orchestra should take to fulfil its ambition of becoming a market leader? I scrambled a response: to be considered one of the world’s leading ensembles, you have to leave your mark on the world’s leading concert halls.

Of course it needs more than that, but the question set me thinking. Like every well-run orchestra this one - the Royal Scottish National Orchestra - wants to boost its reputation. The aim is to increase audience figures, attract funding, make recordings, go on tour, get noticed. And then - join the international elite?

That’s the difficult bit. Joining the league of great orchestras doesn’t happen overnight. If you’re lucky it might take half a century. You can’t rise up the ladder unless you appear regularly in places that matter, such as Vienna’s Musikverein or New York’s Carnegie Hall. And you won’t get invited in the first place unless you have a well-established brand or something special to offer.

It is widely accepted that an elite of orchestras exists. In Europe it includes the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonics, the Royal Concertgebouw of Amsterdam, the Dresden Staatskapelle, the Leipzig Gewandhaus and a handful of others - all of them with long traditions. In the US it is dominated by the “Big Five”: Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, New York, Philadelphia.

How did they get there, and why is the list so resistant to newcomers? When Mariss Jansons was conductor of the Oslo Philharmonic through the 1980s and 1990s, it won the sort of reputation that opens doors. Previously unnoticed, it became a presence in the world’s musical capitals. But the moment Jansons left, Oslo dropped from view. Sir Simon Rattle’s influence on the City of Birmingham Symphony was much the same. Great orchestras? Hardly.

Conversely, the Boston Symphony rarely appeared in Europe in the 1990s during the latter part of Seiji Ozawa’s 29-year tenure. The partnership was widely perceived to have gone stale. Yet no one ever doubted that Boston was still part of the elite.

Most great orchestras suffer a drop in fortune at some point. Chicago and Philadelphia are going through such a dip now. The cause may be financial hardship, loss of key personnel, bad management or an unsuitable conductor. Somehow, the brand survives. How?

Sound has a lot to do with it. All the world’s great orchestras have a distinctive sound that survives generational change. It is based on a tradition that, in most cases, was established by conductors who stayed put for a long time, attained great stature and had carte blanche to do what they wanted. George Szell is the classic example: from the mid-1940s to the late 1960s he made the Cleveland Orchestra what it is today.

Such conditions no longer exist. Conductors today barely touch down long enough to influence the sound. Power resides with the orchestra committee or the board. That’s why recent claims that the Los Angeles Philharmonic and San Francisco Symphony have joined the elite should be treated with caution. For all their undoubted progress under Esa-Pekka Salonen and Michael Tilson Thomas, they do not have an ingrained sound or outstanding tradition.

Judging sound is highly subjective. It is based on anecdotal evidence and usually involves a dose of mythology. When the young Wilhelm Furtwangler was appointed chief conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic in the 1920s, he was regarded as a Johnnie-come-lately: people said the Philharmonic was still audibly the orchestra of his predecessor, the legendary Artur Nikisch. Long after Herbert von Karajan took over in the mid-1950s, subscribers said it still sounded like Furtwangler’s orchestra. Today, despite greater flexibility introduced by Claudio Abbado and Simon Rattle, the Berlin sound - well-upholstered, beautifully moulded and muscular - remains fundamentally the same as it was 25 years ago, when I first heard it under Karajan.

A great orchestra passes on its life from one generation to the next: when choosing new players it tries to find a sound as close as possible to what has gone before. In some sections of the Berlin Philharmonic there exists a tradition of handing down instruments when one player retires and a new one arrives.

The perceived sound of the orchestra takes priority over an individual musician’s desire to play in a certain way. The Berlin strings have always been deep and mellow: they like to blend. The Vienna Philharmonic’s strings ride more on the tradition of waltz and operetta established by the Strauss family and perpetuated by Fritz Kreisler and Willi Boskovsky - a tradition demanding a purer, more elegant sound, albeit expanded in texture and palette over the years.

It is the opposite of the leading orchestras in New York and Chicago: they are filled with alumni of the Juilliard School, where the favoured sound is brilliant and hard, with ample pressure from the bow.

An orchestra’s sonic nature is like a deep-lying ocean current, unaffected by surface flux such as a change of conductor. And yet a distinctive sound is only part of what makes an orchestra great. Financial stability is crucial if it is to take on projects that generate artistic kudos. This explains why London’s self-governing orchestras, widely admired for their speed and versatility, have never quite made it into the world’s elite. They don’t offer stable rehearsal conditions. The musicians are constantly on the move.

The advantage of the great European and American orchestras is that they were able to establish their iconic status in an age when their identity could become entrenched, there was less competition and it was easier to create a brand. Not only did they have the best halls, they attracted the best musicians, who tended to stay put. The political and economic clout they developed in their communities gave them the freedom to aim for higher artistic goals. Without realising it, they became locked into a virtuous cycle - a cycle that tells the world there’s a better chance of experiencing an epiphany with the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonics than with an orchestra from Manchester or Minneapolis.

The Berlin or Vienna performances may not actually be as good on a given night, but in the eye and ear of the music lover in the US or Japan, the brand name is what counts. Everything about Berlin and Vienna - the tradition of Furtwangler and Karajan, the association with the Musikverein, the New Year’s Day telecast, the quality of conductors and soloists they regularly attract - confirms their elevated status. That status, and the mystique that goes with it, is established by excellence and quality over a long period.

So what should I have said to my Scottish hosts? That they should modify their aspirations? Well, I hope that the Royal Scottish National Orchestra gets to play in the Golden Hall of the Musikverein. On present form it deserves to.

But there are dozens of other good orchestras. They can’t all be great. For most orchestras, chasing greatness is less important than connecting with the community that supports, finances and applauds them week-in week-out. After that, international acclaim is no more than a welcome bit of validation to show the folks back home.

Andrew Clark is the FT’s chief music critic.

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GREAT ORCHESTRAS: ANDREW CLARK’S TOP 10

Berlin Philharmonic
A state-funded but self-governing co-operative, this is the Rolls-Royce of orchestras, fiercely proud of its traditions and independence.

Vienna Philharmonic
A state opera orchestra that runs its own spare-time concert series, the Vienna Phil makes a virtue of its inherent conservatism.

Royal Concertgebouw
With a tradition going back to Mahler and Mengelberg, Amsterdam’s orchestra sounds more woody, winey and fragrant than Berlin’s.

Cleveland Orchestra
Thanks to George Szell and Severance Hall, the Clevelanders have kept their polish, despite three changes of conductor since 1970.

Boston Symphony
By far the wealthiest of American orchestras, with one of the world’s finest halls, Boston is the embodiment of European tradition in the US.

Chicago Symphony
With their over-dominant brass, the Chicagoans represent pure American beefcake - a personality Daniel Barenboim could not change.

Bayreuth Festival Orchestra
Once a year for 11 weeks these German provincial musicians feed off the nectar of the gods. Their attitude is correspondingly committed.

Mariinsky Theatre Orchestra
Distinguished by its dark Russian timbre, this tireless ensemble always leaves the impression that it is playing for its life.

Metropolitan Opera Orchestra
An opera orchestra with matching symphonic credentials, the Met band outshines its hard-bitten New York stablemate, the Philharmonic.

Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment
Barely 21 years old, this highly motivated period-instrument ensemble has already earned its place in the pantheon.