Afternoon turned to evening. At five minutes to eight a final vote was called and a result was confidently expected outside. Whispers emerged that Nelsons was close enough for a majority to clinch it, only for the Thielemann faction to threaten a backlash. As light faded, the musicians trooped out of the church, divided and disheartened. The election result — a no-result — was completely without precedent, an outcome as rare as a tied score in a five-day cricket match.

Confusion reigned. For an hour or so it seemed the musicians might sleep on it and reconvene for a final ballot next morning. But there was no room in the schedule. At nine on Tuesday morning they were due to start rehearsing three concerts with the Estonian Paavo Järvi. The earliest free date for a new election was in December.

Apologists swung into action. Peter Riegelbauer, the players’ co-chairman, said there was plenty of time to reach a consensus. Haggard and tieless, he maintained that the mood of the discussion had been “very constructive, cooperative and friendly”. The aftershocks did not confirm that assessment.

One insider said that Rattle had done well to preside as long as he did over a pack of strong wills pulling in multiple directions. His successor would face insurrection unless he was elected by a clear and large majority, which appears presently unobtainable.

That leaves the Berlin Philharmonic in the worst of all possible worlds. No conductor of quality will want to work with a divided orchestra. Several — Dudamel, Nézet-Séguin, Barenboim, Jansons — ostentatiously withdrew in the election run-up. By December, Nelsons might declare himself unavailable.

The orchestra cannot function without a music director. It needs a face on the masthead to obtain the world tours and cinema audiences that are the bedrock of its claim to be the premier performing ensemble on earth. There is no talk — yet — of forming a coalition between Thielemann and Nelsons, putting the German in charge of core repertoire and the home audience and the Latvian on the banners as ambassador to the future and the rest of the world. Stranger things have happened, but dividing the job would blur the brand and Thielemann is an aloof character who does not like to share.

The other option would be for the Thielemann opposition to crumble and accept the inevitable. If that were the case, it would lead to profound changes in the orchestra — a Thielemann trusty as the new general manager and the departure of several player opponents. Thielemann would not bring peace to Berlin, let alone prosperity.

All of these elements conspired to make the Berlin Philharmonic election, unfinished like some of the best symphonies, a compelling spectacle for watchers at the church door and beyond. One of the world’s major brands failed at these hustings to secure its future and will fumble in the months ahead to maintain self-assurance.

That’s why elections are such fun. The powerful can be humbled and the rest of us receive assurance of the glorious unpredictability of any event that involves two or more members of the human race.