I was recently asked to define what I want from a musical
leader: someone who will be responsible
for shaping a musical experience for a large group of people on a regular
basis. I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about how people experience the arts in
their lives, and what leadership means in nonprofit arts administration. But
this was the first time I stopped to think about what personal expectations I have
about leadership in music. When the expectation is to “change people’s lives”
through music, what talents does a person need to bring to the table? How do
you set parameters for the person who ultimately decides what music to present
and how it’s produced?
Musical experiences–the kind that leave you transformed–are
very difficult to deconstruct. There’s no formula for a “perfect” concert or
choir practice. What makes a performance or sing-along life-changing for me,
may be decidedly dreadful for someone else.
So I guess we have to start with why a musical
leader is trying to change people’s lives in the first place? What are the underlying values and
principles? If music is the universal language, what are we trying to
communicate? For me, music is less about the message and the content; we can
spend years talking about what quality and excellence means. What’s more
important, I think, is creating the environments for people to explore, have a
dialogue--find meaning and a sense of belonging.
In contemporary chamber music, the only way I can explain
musical leadership is when a composer can write a piece that asks you a
question, rather than telling you an answer. And he or she does this through
the choice of instrumentation, key, tempo, creating a mood and environment.
Then layer in the choices that a producer or player makes around
interpretation and presentation: use of space, wardrobe, cohesion, dynamics. I
can only explain a “good concert” as one that massages a part of my brain that
I didn’t know was there. For the dude sitting next to me, a good concert might
be something completely different – perfect intonation, the narrative arc told
through the chronology of the pieces, something under 60 minutes that leaves
you humming the tunes, etc. What it takes to get to get an audience member to
that place is a series of complex choices on the part of a musical leader, not
matter which role in the process.
Creating meaning and belonging through music can mean
something completely different for participatory experiences. When I want a
safe place to sing at the top of my lungs it’s because I want to feel a part of
something bigger than myself. In these cases, musical leadership is no
different. It still comes down to the
choices made around creating a transformational experience. It takes a person who can orchestrate an
environment that makes you remember the playfulness of participating in a
school play, the anonymity of a darkened campfire sing-along, or the power of singing
happy birthday with a roomful of co-workers who happen to be professional opera
singers.
In this context, leadership is less about putting forward an agenda,
choosing the right repertoire, and banging a baton over perfect entrances. Musical
leadership is setting a vision about what it means to create great music and
understanding the people you want to involve.
What are the qualities and talents that will attract excellent players that
believe in this larger vision? Make
quality the lowest bar set you can set. What personality and judgment will it
take for a leader to express the musical equivalent of:
“Welcome! Step into this
new world and stay awhile. Feel free to poke around, have a conversation, or
just relax. Let’s play.”
