Reflections – Life beyond Music

I’m starting a post today that is somewhat personal yet I think reflects an issue faced by many of my colleagues who make their living in orchestras.  We all know that classical music faces some fundamental problems in the world today, and we are all very good at pointing the finger at various aspects of the business.  But there may be a more fundamental problem – us.

I’ve been reflecting on my experiences of the calendar year 2009 and something leapt out at me.  As a conductor I think it’s imperative that I try to keep a finger on the pulse of my audience.  Frequently I will wander out into a corner of the lobby and engage someone in a quiet conversation just for fun.  Wherever I am I always ask that email feedback be forwarded to me.  I’m just curious as to what “Joe Public” thinks about what we do.

During this year I did a concert with (name redacted) and I overheard one of my colleagues say “worst programming ever.”  Email feedback consistently told a different story:

“Yesterday evening was most enjoyable… it was lighthearted and appeared to resonate with the audience.  We (the audience) left with a smile on our faces and a light step despite the hour.”

This is not the first time I’ve felt this dichotomy between the mood backstage and the perception of the audience.  There are at least two ways of looking at this, one being the “we should enlighten and educate the audience” approach, another would be the “all Mozart all the time!” camp.  But I suggest there may be other reasons why this particular wall exists between audience and performers.

This was brought home in Cincinnati recently.  I love working with that orchestra and don’t mind admitting it at all.  It’s a highly professional band, they play well, they treat me well, I have friends there – it’s one of those gigs that sends a conductor off to study because you really don’t want to screw up… because you really don’t want to screw them up.  Mutual respect is a wonderful way to make music.

After one of my concerts I ran into a couple who were retired CSO musicians.  Usually after a long day, a long concert, and a post-concert reception I get into the “please get me to real food as soon as possible” mode, but when the gentleman started talking I was stopped in my tracks.  What grabbed me was his enthusiasm.  As soon as he started speaking he reflected on past concerts, on the couple of concerts we had played together when I was a guest and he was still in the band, on the music from tonight, on his life in the orchestra, etc.  I was more than a little amused to glance around and see a knowing look on the face of his wife and a couple members of the staff.  He had obviously done this before.  What was conspicuous was that this crazy old guy just loved music and given the opportunity he’d go back in time and do it all over again, every last note of it.  I’m deeply honored to call this man my colleague.

But that colleague of mine seems to be the exception to the rule.  Too often the prevailing attitude amongst musicians is one of gloom, despair, and a hidden intense disliking of our profession.  It is almost as if we have forgotten how lucky we are to do what we do.  Three hundred years ago our ancient colleagues did all sorts of crazy things besides music.  They were footmen, or they mucked out the barns, perhaps labored all day at some physically demanding job.  We have come a very long way from those times and we should be thankful for it.

But we have also lost touch with a large portion of society in the process.  We don’t work “regular” jobs anymore.  We spend most of our time around other musicians or in situations solely dedicated to our art.  There are thousands upon thousands of people who make a living simply by this art form where three hundred years ago anyone doing that would have been in extremely rare territory.  Because of this we have become separated from those who are suppose to enjoy our music.  This is not healthy, for either them or us.

For them it’s terrible – a world without direct connection to those who create art.  That seems pretty boring to me.  For us it might be worse – art for art’s sake?  We are given this talent but our removal from society means we no longer have the proper measuring stick to measure our blessings? That’s certainly what it seems to be from my perspective.  I am not claiming that what we do is all peaches and cream.  However, from the perspective of even the most modestly educated member of Joe Public what we do borders on alchemy.  These people are utterly amazed that we have gotten to that point where we can translate those little dots into extraordinary music through mastery of these ridiculous instruments.  Funny enough, the more experience these people have had in music, whether singing in choirs or playing instruments when younger, the more amazed they are.  The know how esoteric this is and they are deeply envious of us.

God bless our neighbors for they keep me grounded on this point.  On Thanksgiving I was waxing poetic about a new venture that I am involved with.  I was going on and on about how I’d really like to do something creative, something interesting, and my neighbor pipped up:

“You do realize that compared to the rest of us we already consider you to be in that top echelon of creativity for society, right?”

That’s what I get for thinking that practicing 5 hours a day or anything else that I do in music could be anything close to “normal.”  From my neighbors perspective, all highly educated people with a strong interest in the arts, what I do is still alchemy, and I’m sure in the 16th century anyone doing what I do now would have run a fair chance of getting burned at the stake.

I think what I’m trying to get at here is that the specialization of music and musicians has had some unintended consequences and perhaps we should reconsider the path our profession is on.  Is the whole conservatory movement a good thing?  Juilliard, Eastman, Curtis, etc., are they helping our hurting?  Sure, the graduates can play, but what do they know of the real world?  Or just as importantly, what does the real world know of them? They’ve already been separated from their age groups by going to specialized institutions.  Is that a good thing?

The true “professional” orchestra has been an incredible boon to our music but hasn’t it also separated us from the very people who are supposed to enjoy our music? Musicians now spend most of their time talking with other musicians or with people in a related corner of the music profession.  How about a little perspective?  Summer festivals?  These should probably be banned outright because they do little but cheapen the whole experience for artists and audience alike.  You get an orchestra/conductor/soloist slam-dancing some program on one, possibly two rehearsals; meanwhile everyone in the audience is hoping for the least offensive music possible and one more glass (bottle?) of wine.  Repeat ad nauseum.

I’m not looking for miracle ideas here.  I don’t think that disbanding the big orchestras and forcing everyone to go till the fields like some giant cultural Cultural Revolution (if you know what I mean) is the solution.  But we as a profession should probably spend a lot more time in the shoes of Monsieur Joe Public and his lovely spouse Jane.  Perhaps those occasional concerts of whole notes wouldn’t seem quite like such a grand tragedy.  Remember, from their perspective our worst day is still better than their best one.

10 thoughts on “Reflections – Life beyond Music”

  1. Really interesting read. Last week I had a lot of comments about the “evil of conservatories” on my blog, so this was well timed.

    Perhaps the solution is something that David Cutler talks about in The Savvy Musician: school isn’t a waiting period before a musical career begins. Musicians who are in school can be doing a better job of getting out there now. Experiencing giving concerts from the start.; keeping a finger on the pulse of Joe Public by getting out regularly to perform for them.

    Social media is also an interesting avenue. Having a facebook fan page or a twitter account offers a way to interact with your audience and ask questions very easily.

    I don’t think the solution is giving up schools, or the option presented in your last paragraph. It seems, however, that more music students would benefit from getting out to interact with everyone sooner.

  2. Great article Bill. So interesting to have your thoughts on this issue. I have perceived for some time now that we are moving into a future where our collective tastes are ever more divergent. A growing accessibility to a body of recorded works that expands exponentially can only make the programming of live music increasingly difficult. And at the same time, the task of educating an audience by way of that programming would have to diminish. You speculate on where that education, those connections should come from. Universities? Conservatories?
    I believe it is now in the hands of the dynamics of the internet and mass media. What would Wagner say if he went to a ciniplex and heard what classically trained composers are creating for movies? And how is that experience affecting the tastes and cultures of the world?
    Yet it will always be incomparable magic to hear live music performed on acoustic instruments by professionals.

  3. Thanks for giving this issue your consideration and sharing with the wider community. I know that this is a topic debated in the music world, but I am a layperson, albeit one with a daughter applying to conservatories in 2011, and this is all fresh for me.

    Rebecca, a violinist, will apply to Eastman, maybe Juilliard. But, she is also interested, as a fine student and wonderful writer, in combined programs at NEC/Harvard, Juilliard/Columbia, Peabody/Hopkins and, especially, Oberlin and newly minted Bard. For some of the reasons you speak of, these latter programs seem compelling!

    • George –

      As a graduate of Northwestern’s double degree program and someone who stills works in music (albeit as an administrator) let me put in the good word for Northwestern’s combined program. I loved it there – a top-notch school musically and academically, and everything happens on one campus.

  4. I am the assistant principal/second oboist of the Oregon Symphony. I teach privately and get great joy in my career from doing so. I actually love what I do and I love my orchestra. I am lucky that I have some really lovely colleagues (especially in my wind section) and I get to live in beautiful Portland, OR. I came here from the New World Symphony(or as I liked to call it when I was there ‘music camp all year’). Between New World and 6 summers at Aspen and I got my fill of what I had been “missing” all those years without conservatory. Before entering NWS I held degrees from SUNY at Buffalo and USC. It is still amazing to me how certain (not all but enough to comment) musicians react to this information. Almost with pity. I used to think I would never succeed in music with this lack of musical pedigree. Now, I am so unbelievably thankful that this was my experience, I cannot even fully express it. Of course some of my closest friends are musicians but I do spend a lot of my time with those who do other things. (In fact my partner is a sound guy/stagehand. That will keep a girls perspective in line!) This has always been the case for me as I attended universities with vast populations of anything but musicians. I have always felt comfortable around musicians and non musicians alike. I guess I just wanted to offer my perspective as your blog entry really spoke to me and hit really close to home. I do think we need to keep our feet on the ground and realize that yes, we have this special gift and we work really hard but that we are regular hard working people and some of us even love what we do! Now if we can figure out how to let this permiate into our audiences…

  5. Bill
    Great to read your perspective, we are at one on this issue, for me it boils down to music schools having a lot of classes in what to do and how to do it, but almost none in why we do this! There is no training in advocacy or relating to an audience. Again as I say in my intro for our blog Music and Art can’t change the world, people change the world, but music and art can change people. We need our focus to be on them!

  6. Very interesting blog and some really pertinent thoughts. I’m a choral musician, currently directing two groups in Northern Virginia, one a church choir, one an a cappella independent group. I’m also a musician whose schooling is “the School of Hard Knocks.” Grew up around music and when in college was a “music department groupie” while pursuing a degree in French – and then going into the Army as an officer. Bottom line: I didn’t have the formal educational experience a lot of others had or have, and so I’ve been so grateful over the years for the kind musicians who helped me and developed whatever talent I may have. My point, though, is that musicians have to really reflect on their disconnectedness with the general public. Right now in Fairfax County the School Board is deciding to cancel classes for strings and bands at the elementary level. This will happen because while the musical community is up in arms, the overall community is indifferent, and hears the “money-money-money” argument as more effective than “education-education-education,” especially in light of the economy. Several years ago at a middle school concert I attended the same issue was coming up, and I argued that what needed to happen was for parents of music students to bring their neighbors and friends who DIDN’T have kids in the music program to a concert, to see what was going on. We also do not make a good case to connect how what we do at the junior levels can be so enriching across the board educationally. We are cutting ourselves off from people – and our gloom and doom approach to what we supposedly love to do is turning off the very public we need to survive. The day may very well come when Joe and Jane Public looks at us and says, “Here’s a shovel; there’s a barn full of muck; go clean out the stuff and find out what misery really is.” Translation: a little humility and gratitude is in order, otherwise we’ll lose what we really have and want.

  7. I couldn’t agree more Bill. It is a question of the life in what you do. One can suffuse their work with purpose or simply let it grind them down; no matter the field. I did my undergrad at a conservatory (Oberlin) and the feeling I remember most about the place was constriction. I was never meant for a conservatory education and fared much better at my my graduate institution (Oregon). I remember a quote I read about Von Karajan’s father who was a surgeon, and told him as an old man, “Technique, one can always acquire but you must never forget that you are operating on a living thing.” Of course he was talking about surgery but it applies to us just the same.I think music schools would do well to remember this because in my experience technique is the throne at which most lay themselves prostrate. When I listen to Heifetz, or Tito Schipa or Maria Callas I know they have incredible technique but what I mostly know is that it is undeniably them…they were absolutely unafraid to express.I am afraid a modern day music education would have smothered that.

  8. As a graduate of Oberlin Conservatory and The University of North Texas and public school teacher, I long for the old days of being surrounded by intelligent talented people. As I look into the hallways of where I work and witness the barbarism of the emerging generation I wistfully look back to heated conversations about how to trill when performing Handel. I wish I could work in the adult world professionally as a choral conductor or singer, but those opportunities haven’t worked out for me yet. The grumbling by these incredibly lucky professional musicians makes my stomach turn. I’ll pay once in a while to do a summer program so that I get to converse with smart people about music. Sometimes when I’m picking up trash in my classroom or making the 105th spreadsheet for a field trip, I feel how the musicians who shoveled muck must have felt, but I do get to make music every day and count myself lucky to be able to do that. Mr. Eddins, feel free to send any of your colleagues down to Garland, TX to visit my school if they need a dose of the public.

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