Buzzing Reed- Classical Music & Clarinet Culture

In the current world of perfectionist auditions and recording quality performance standards, I doubt that Maria Callas would have been much more than a talented wannabe. Her tone was too bright, her vibrato too wobbly. What a tragedy, that musicians such as that are probably being overlooked.

Will Roesch, a tuba student, wrote me a note on Facebook, inquiring about the pros and cons of perfectionism in the music world. He wrote:

I was wondering if you could offer some words of wisdom.

To be blunt I have obsessive compulsive disorder, so I’ve always struggled with the ideas of perfection, order, symmetry, and so forth. Unfortunately, even within the comforting realm of music it’s managed to manifest itself. I’ve been given a few perspectives on orchestral playing. One teacher insists perfection is the only gateway to an orchestral job; the Principal Tubist of the Chicago Symphony instilled in me there is no such thing as perfection. He told me you can only do your best, and the true mark of an orchestral musician is improving from the last audition/performance/etc.

The perfection thing is ground into me every week; and I know for a normal person it would be stressful, but for someone like me with OCD, it becomes overwhelming.

So how do you do it? Do you put unrealistic demands on yourself in an attempt to reach a specific goal, or is perfection really the goal for which I should be striving?

When I’m playing, if I start to think about the mechanics of what I’m doing, I inevitably make a mistake, but I’ve noticed when I think of something out of body or just get lost in the moment entirely, things seem to go fine. I like to think of my tuba as a dusty, forgotten leviathan that never gets the spot light, and when the time comes, it’s the one singing the song to show what beauty it has to offer, not me.

I have posted my response below. I will add to this over the next few days. I also welcome conversations about these ideas in the comments.

Will- Thanks for the intriguing explorations and questions about the various philosophies of playing music. You really got me thinking.

Since I began studying the Alexander Technique, I’ve attempted to hone the answers to such questions, both for myself and my students. We performers embody such a paradox by attempting to perfect the expression of seemingly “other-worldly” music with all too human bodies.

I think it was Van Cliburn who said something to the effect of “Music offers enough to fill a lifetime, but one life is not enough to do music justice.” Music may or may not be perfectible, but it is always improvable, and certainly worth the trouble.

So, how then do we approach such a difficult and elusive goal? The answer is both philosophical and practical.

We forever strive toward perfection by setting our sights on the heavenly goal of the perfect performance, all the while seeking the most efficient path physically. (I am reminded of Kenny Werner’s book, Effortless Mastery)

The second part of that phrase is the real key. The great performers practice not so much to perfect a piece of music, but to render performing it effortless. Ironically, perfection is all the more attainable when we get out of our own way.

Yet, our “efforts” toward “effortlessness” can become a problem in itself. Your frustration with the choice between “thinking about the mechanics” and simply “letting it happen” is symptomatic of that problem. You have the right idea in striving to let it happen in an “out of body” sort of way, but that won’t help you if you happen to be hindered by one or more physical misuses.

In that case, you need to allow yourself to step back, as many steps as necessary, possibly back to simply standing or sitting without playing, in order to find your way toward the most efficient and “effortless” use of your self, by which you can move beyond one particular limitation and on to the next. And so on and so on. Backward until you arrive at a place where forward is truly possible, then forward until you find another habit of misuse, all the while remembering that our real goal is not physical ease, but the music itself.

Think of traversing a huge river gorge in a jungle to photograph a beautiful, rare orchid. You can see the other side just a few hundred feet away, but the depth of the gap is insurmountably deep. How do you get there? You cannot just jump; wish as you may to be able to fly. You must weave your way meticulously down one face of the gorge, through many unknown and possibly endless obstacles; then cross the river, which may be a problem in itself, then scale the other side, before arriving just a few hundred feet from where you were. You must take care not to injure yourself along the way, so attention to efficient solutions to the myriad challenges is critical along the way.

Is the orchid worth all that? The only way you can answer is that you enjoyed the process of getting there (I know. Huge cliché) the challenge as well as the journey. Dreaming of the orchid along the journey helps, and it may even offer critical creative inspiration, but patience and perseverance are the real tools. Obsessing over the goal is counter productive. If you lose sleep or hurt yourself, how does that help? (Yet many musicians grow up feeding on self-destructive habits) Suppose you never quite make it? What have you gained along the way?

Seeking to attain the highest goal is vital to our motivation, but it cannot destroy our joy in the seeking, otherwise our efforts are philosophically and spiritually fruitless.

There are too many bitter musicians out there who only sought the orchid and got lost along the way.

(To give a very real example of what I just described, the process of typing my answer to your inquiries could have easily become an issue of misuse in itself, as I slouched in front of the computer typing, compulsively goal oriented instead of process oriented.)

Incidentally, I am still misusing myself in front of the computer as I type this, right after having a great, body expanding yoga class!!

I would like to add that auditions are, in my opinion, tainted by an unrealistic perfectionist culture which has permeated their practice over the past two decades. A great player takes chances. A perfect player rarely does, if ever. I can understand (without condoning) such a cookie cutter benchmark if the position is in a section. But for a principal position, I would much rather an extremely high quality player who pushes the limit a bit each time he/she plays, striving for the ever elusive beauty of the music.

I believe that any phrase can be played a number of ways, some more effective than others, but different versions of which can reach out to the listener with a slightly different version beauty. If that were not the case, then there would be only one version of every piece sold on CD.

David Lundberg was educated as a musician at the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago. In business in Dallas, he founded the Charter Group, a property and casualty insurance conglomerate whose customer friendly and principle-rather-than-policy driven practices were significant in changing the face of the industry for the better.

Mr. Lundberg’s deep love for people and his passion for music punctuated another long career, volunteering in the support functions of music – as board member with the Dallas Symphony and Dallas Opera, as board chair for Lyric Opera of Dallas, Arkansas Opera Theater, Hot Springs Music Festival, and others too many to list. He has seen orchestras and other arts organizations dip near death, then rise to world renown. In his recent move to Columbus, David has brought a wealth of experience, perspective, and wisdom to share, as you will read in this letter.

Dear Fellow Community Members,

It was my privilege as a student at the American Conservatory of Music in Chicago in the 50’s to watch Fritz Reiner bring discipline and inspiration to an orchestra that had become complacent and lethargic. At that same time Chicago had an arts critic who was convinced that nothing excellent could possibly happen outside of New York, Boston, or Philadelphia and her reviews of the Chicago Symphony (CSO) reflected this belief.

During that period, the CSO also had an extended tour of Europe. The reviews came flooding back to the States and the reviewers were ecstatic. Chicago was filled with pride and excitement for their orchestra. That pride continues to this day as the CSO remains in the Top Five in the Country, with many in the know feeling that the CSO ranks Number One.

In Dallas, as a singer in the Dallas Symphony (DSO) Chorus for 25 years and as a member of the DSO Board for several terms, I saw a very similar phenomenon happen. The DSO emerged from bankruptcy in 1974, at full strength, thanks to some farsighted people including Stanley Marcus (Neiman Marcus). During the 70’ s, the DSO had a series of short-term and guest conductors, who allowed the Orchestra to become uninspired and sloppy. Enter Maestro Eduardo Mata, a masterful technician like Reiner, who awakened the musicians’ desire to perform at a higher level. Same script – sour critic, European tour, great reviews, and wonderful community response. The whole situation in Dallas remains positive to this day – pride in and of the musicians, fiscal stability, great arts community, good endowment, a great new $130 Million venue and no debt.

In the ensuing years, many Fortune 500 companies relocated their headquarters to the Dallas area. Ones that quickly come to mind are American Airlines, JC Penney, Exxon Mobil, Kimberly Clark, Co—America Bank, Fluor, and Ericsson Telecommunications (North America). Is there a connection here? You bet there is. When major companies decide to relocate, they establish a profile of the qualities that they are seeking at the new location. Common to these profiles is the absolute requirement of a superb, vigorous cultural community (led most naturally by the symphony and opera). While this is not the only criterion, the importance of a vital classical art landscape is undeniable.

My wife Katherine and I moved to Columbus two years ago and, Eureka! what did we find but Junichi Hirokami and the Columbus Symphony, and a strong feeling of déjà vu from Dallas and Chicago. Hirokami, whom I had seen guest conduct several times in Dallas, has the same technical skills as Reiner and Mata. And the bonus is that he is highly respected and liked by the musicians. Junichi brings such infectious joy and love of the music to the podium that audiences and musicians alike are exhilarated and enchanted.

Sadly, we began to hear from some in the community that, “the CSO and the Opera don’t pull their own weight financially.” Most are unaware that American symphonies and operas earn considerably less than half of their budgets from ticket sales. The critical mass of support must come from farsighted and benevolent corporations, foundations and individuals who have a keen understanding of the tax benefits, the good will, and public relations benefits they derive from their generosity. Also, we hear questions such as, “Can Columbus support a major symphony orchestra?” Columbus – 15th largest city – state capital – home to the largest university – home to six Fortune 500 companies and fifteen Fortune 1,000 companies? The question is absurd on the face of it. If we fail to save the symphony, Columbus will be the largest city in America without one.

Traditionally, it has been the large corporations that the Symphony has turned to for regular, long-term support. Unfortunately, that is how a small group of corporate funders and board members have come to assume the power to speak for the entire community regarding the future of this rare community treasure. And amazingly, power that seems entirely disproportionate to their monetary contributions.

If given the support, Hirokami will bring fame to Columbus and challenge the Cleveland Orchestra as the best symphony in the state. This vision certainly does not appear to be shared by the Board and the current corporate funders. They are looking to the bare minimum level of funding rather than the challenging, exciting “quest for the best.” Will the community settle for mediocrity or will they step forward and fight for the very best.

Our symphony was on the cusp of a giant step forward in quality and professional respect, which would have brought incalculable rewards to Columbus, many in ways totally unrelated to the arts. Are we to let this treasure, which would take decades to rebuild, slip away because of several years of what appears to be gross mismanagement by the CSO Board and staff? (The musicians are not the problem; their wages — total artistic costs — have been at or below budget the last three years.)

In the bigger picture, if Columbus is to grow and keep pace with other major cities by attracting new business and industry, supporting the symphony right now is absolutely mandatory. This is purely a matter of civic and corporate will. Let’s just determine to do it! And generously, in ways that will ensure its long term excellence and survival.

An enormous outpouring of support is needed from community members and arts lovers from all walks of life. The emergency is real, and the consequences are enormous. Failure is not an option! I invite you to weigh in with your thoughts on this matter at www.symphonycolumbus.com.

David Lundberg