A Question As Old As Time

How do we make a living as musicians? Jon Silpayamanant poses the question "What is a 'full-time musician' anyway?" after reading a little blog skimmed from an innocent Quora question "What Kind of Stress do Full-Time Composers Experience." The writer, Andrew Watts, focused on stresses that, to me, were pretty generic--nothing he wrote isn't experienced in many other jobs. I came up with my own list, which I'll post later, but let's just say that my answers fed less into stereotypes ("why don't people understand me or my music?") and more into realities unique to the situation.

But that's not the point of this post. This relates to another series I started last week with a question posed to everyone in this discussion of current trends in post-secondary music education: what do those two words being tossed around so carelessly actually mean. You know the two; entrepreneurship and sustainability.

This post is about the first, and ties directly into the idea of a "full-time musician."

Over at Mae Mai, Jon's blog, I wrote the following long answer, copied here for ease. 

Some of the interesting questions I think also need approached include: Is this really a new problem? What have musicians done historically "to make ends meet" while still feeling artistically fulfilled? What do universities need to adopt to help musicians succeed at their chosen endeavors?

One argument I've seen (and that I'm prone to as well) has to do with the challenges of the literature. For instance, let's say you wanted to have an Apocalyptica type career. All the cellist in the group (not sure about the drummer) are classically trained first. Having been to their shows, I can say pretty confidently that their arrangements and originals aren't going to match the level of difficulty of, say, Shosti's cello concerto No. 1. From a performance standpoint, then, do we teach the most technically difficult literature, or what the students want to learn? Or vice versa?

Or is the answer, as it so often lays, in the middle (sometimes I sound like a centrist. I'm really not)? I think the programs like Alternate Strings are fantastic, and it should be part of a universities job to get students to experience as many different styles as possible. With our good ole alma mater, this doesn't just me "world," "pop," or "outsider" styles, but also modern styles (as I said before, we didn't even have a new music group when I was in school, something that at the time I didn't think was odd, but now after 7 more years in academia, I can see makes absolutely no sense). 

I think the idea of a "full-time musician" or "composer" is definitely misleading. There are very few times, historically, when musicians can claim to have a single job. Bach wrote music, was the organist, and taught lessons. Mozart performed extensively, conducted his own operas, taught lessons (rather poorly and infrequently) while begging for money from his father between commissions. Haydn was under the employ of the Esterhauzy's, composed, led the orchestra, and taught lessons. Beethoven (more in his youth), performed extensively, was a concert promoter (he staged many works by Mozart and Haydn), and taught lessons. 

The question is are university preparing us even for these "traditional" roles? 

 I think these are pretty important questions to think about. What has a "full-time musician" ever just had a single job? In all of the historical study we go through as classical musicians, not until the 19th century do we even start to see musicians really making it in one specific job. Listz, after all, was a performer and composer, as adept at improvisation and on the fly transcriptions as he was orchestrating (ok, that's debatable, but I think he was a fine orchestrator. Maybe not on the level of his improvisation though). Paganini wrote etudes (which sell quite well). Brahms led a girls choir.

What am I getting at? Historically, there weren't many people doing just "one job" as a musician. There were few "full-time composers," and that's a trend that remains to this day. Those that are the closest are film composers, for instance Hans Zimmer...Of course, Zimmer is as adept in a studio as he is in front of music (maybe more so, considering he reportedly used over 1000 tracks in Cubase for Inception). John Williams also tours as a conductor...Well, seems I'm blowing holes in that idea.

It's important to realize that musicians have always had multifarious roles. The roles haven't really changed, but the implementation has. Even the more "traditional" full time roles, such as orchestral performer, have become just one of several performance jobs (orchestra, and if it's not a major one, two or more orchestras, chamber groups, teaching). On top of that, the rise of technology makes it easier for groups to disperse their work, which has led to a huge growth in the recording industry, outside the major companies. Small studios are popping up everywhere, and recording programs are becoming big money-makers for universities.

Every musician is now able to put up a website relatively pain-free thanks to engines such as Wordpress. Music can be shared via Soundcloud, Bandcamp, YouTube, and Vimeo. Technology is everywhere, aiding young musicians in creating their own personalized careers. And, yet, are we always taught these skills?

Writing music is way many have expanded their roles, be it in the "classical" world or any other. And yet there are schools that don't teach composition to everyone outside of basic part-writing exercises. There are reasons the Beatles sold billions while Chumbawumba was a one-hit wonder, just as there's something to learn from Monteverdi, Telemann, Boccherini, and Bruckner, names that were important in their day, and in some circles forgotten (Singers remember their Monteverdi, but can all instrumentalists say the same? What of Telemann outside flute players, and trombonists looking to steal some more literature? Boccherini outside string players? And Bruckner as anything other than a footnote to Wagner, and the "loser" of the battle with Brahms? and what of Gin Blossoms, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Dishwalla vs. Nirvana?). There are skills involved, as well as innovation.

I, again, have no answers, just some food for thought. We first need to divorce ourselves from the idea that we are facing a unique problem. There's nothing unique about being an entrepreneur as a musician. It's a tale as old as time. But we do need to see how the industry has changed, and make an active effort to help teach students the skills needed.

I will say that I fall into the trap talking about the "degradation of composition" very quickly. However, I feel my arguments usually have to do with a combination of craft and aesthetics--there are lots of lazy, unskilled composers. And there is music I do not like. I do not like a great deal of post-minimalist music these days. Most of it just sounds incredibly uninnovative, rehashing the same ideas as the "greats." However, I can still appreciate excellent craft when I hear it. It's when I'm presented with art that isn't crafted well, without thought or care, that I have an issue.

It's like the scene in (Untitled) when they go to the studio of the bright new artist, and one of the pieces is a sticky note on a wall. Another is a blinking light-bulb. It was hailed as "innovative and different." But, just like with entrepreneurship, this is just a collective forgetting of history. Is a sticky note innovative post Duchamp?

That's the other big side of being an entrepreneur--being innovative. Black House and the Kansas City Electronic Music and Arts Alliance did that when we presented six brand new chamber operas, all with electronic components. Was a night of chamber operas new? No--I was a part of Remarkable Theater Brigades first run of Opera Shorts back in '09, a series that's a mainstay at Carnegie Hall now. Were the operas all groundbreaking in their music? Mine definitely wasn't.

But, for where we were (Kansas City), this hadn't been done. Producing new operas was a rare thing. And producing operas with electronics is still very niche within niche within niche. For our place, in our time, it was innovative. It sold out. The same types of experiences can be produced anywhere, but ardent artists.

But that night couldn't have been pulled off without supreme talent and practice--we had musicians that, mostly, had advanced degrees and lots of work in the area, musicians that had experience in pits, playing new music, singing large scale operatic roles, designing and costuming operas, and directing. We had a large cohort of people working to create as professional an experience as possible. If the quality had been poor, it would not have "succeeded" just because it was innovative.

It's all about that balance--what do musicians need to know to succeed as an independent musician as far as business sense, marketing, etc., and what do they need to succeed as far as skills as a musician? The best musicians sell some records, but not the most. Innovative musicians that lack skills sell some records, but not the most.

Then there's Radiohead, who is considered innovative in the pop world (arguable, of course), and have great skills as musicians, amazing marketing skills, and know how to work the business end. Or Phillip Glass. or Yo Yo Ma.

So, colleges, ask the question: how do we balance all these skills in a single degree? And can we?

Yo Yo Ma and Radiohead (formed in 1985...think about that) were not made overnight, or even after 4 years. And while students should have the skills to start on a career after undergrad, to expect a 4 year degree to prepare you to be an entrepreneur is fallacy.

However, we can do a much better job.

Follow-up: Ingram Marshall

Earlier I wrote a blog about Philip Kennicott's post in the newrepublic. Among the many things discussed was Kennicott's vehement dislike of Kingdom Come by Ingram Marshall. During the end of his article, Kennicott takes a pretty unfair stab at new music, creating a checklist which describes at best one small scene of new music (often called the Midtown scene, after the work of collectives like Bang on a Can, and various composers that like to blur the line between pop and contemporary. And get lumped in with the touristy Midtown).

Here is Kennicott's checklist for in-vogue new music: harmonically and melodically accessible; socially topical; mixed media; and draws on musical culture outside the concert hall.

If you're even a semi-literate musician, you'll see how that checklist is, well...bogus. But I'll come to that a bit later.

First, I finally got the download from nonesuch records of Kingdom Come. Took a couple days, which in this day of digital downloads seems a long wait. Still, I have it without dealing with iTunes. Yay! One of the first things I did this morning was fire up the recording.

It's recorded by the ACO (America Composers Orchestra) and features recorded media along with a full orchestra. And listening to the piece, I do agree with what Kennicott said.

It is harmonically and melodically accessible. Meaning that the piece is triadically based, with a fairly Romantic notion of tension and release. Dissonant pitches are accrued then resolved more or less via good contrapuntal relationships. It seems to fit more into the mold of a Listz or a Wagner than a Brahms, with maybe some hints of Barber, especially in his string melodies. One of the more interesting parts were the dissonant low brass tones toward the beginning, which felt immediately linked to the rumbling pitch shifted voices that come in immediately after. All in all, I actually enjoyed the work--it's a bit more Romantic than I usually lean in my listening these days, but I may have needed it after a night of Saariaho.

It is socially topical, being influenced by the death of Ingram Marshall's brother in law in a bombing in Bosnia in 1994, as well as field recordings he had of chanting, singing, and bells from Bosnia. The title, in Marshall's words, can be related to the phrase "blown to kingdom come." If you didn't listen to Ingram Marshall's discussion with the St. Louis Youth Symphony, check it out.

So, yes, the piece can have these elements. I repeat, CAN. No one forces the listener to hear a piece in a specific way. Yes, there is semantic priming due to program notes, and recorded media often uses direct, unaffected sounds to create a more specific metaphor or relation. But this is one of the beauties of music: regardless of what we read about a piece, what we are told, and what the composer says, the listener has the final say on what is heard, based upon their experiences and what they choose to focus on.

Kingdom Come does use mixed media. In the recording, it is integrated quite nicely, with a well mixed balance of ensemble and media. The musical connections between the media and the orchestra seem clear to me, with lines being moved between recording and orchestra, harmonic movement being taken by either side, and a nice orchestration between all the parts. Kennicott obviously has a distaste for mixed media without taking into account the medium itself. That's fine, you don't have to like every medium, but to call it a bad piece because you don't like the medium is poor criticism.

And, yes, Kingdom Come does draw from musical culture outside the concert hall. There is chanting and church bells. I'm not sure what else Kennicott might be getting at, but it could be that it sounds more like "film" music to him than, say...well, I don't know, since film music comes directly out of the Romantic tradition and shares many characteristics with the repertoire he holds so dear. But it has the stigma of being for "film." Yes, I'm sure Korngold is impressed with your disdain.

Is Kingdom Come a "bad' piece of music? No. It does not, as Kennicott states, "fail." It is well crafted, firmly grounded in counterpoint, is balanced well between the media and orchestra, orchestrationally speaking. Of course, there could have been mixing errors in the live listening, but a critic has to be able to tell the difference between a poorly mixed piece and a poorly written piece.

Is it a piece I'll listen to repeatedly? Maybe not. It is a bit too Romantic for my liking, and, yes, a little simple in the harmonic spectrum. But then so is Brahms. And Strauss. And Beethoven. Especially Mozart and Haydn.

And this is the crux: Kennicott's list makes no sense. What is harmonically simple music? By what standard? By the standard of the past? Triadically based? Diatonic? All those things describe the repertoire Kennicott holds as being the core of the orchestra. It is no more or less adventuresome than Barber, Mendelssohn, or Boccherini. Or does Kennicott mean minimalist music that focuses on stasis or deep examination of a single area (such as Dennis Johnson's November)? Or does he mean modal music, such as Miles Davis' So What off "Kind of Blue?" That description to me makes little sense. It is not simple in the "pop tune" variety, meaning having only four or five chords. But it is triadically based. But, then, I doubt Kennicott likes the harmonically complicated music of, say, Boulez.

What about socially topical? Using that in a negative context seems so bizarre to me. It ignores a huge facet of history. For instance, for whom was Beethoven's 3rd Symphony (Eroica, or, Heroic) originally dedicated to? Napoleon Bonaparte. Wait, you mean that guy in the French Revolution that Beethoven so admired? That guy that then claimed to be emperor, and Beethoven grew disgusted? And then Beethoven scratched out his name, saving his fee (it was supposed to be dedicated to the guy that paid him, of course), and showing his now disdain for the "conqueror."

Here is, again, the thing about music: anyone that claims that it exists somehow outside reality, that composers aren't influenced by society, are wrong. In the wonderful movie (Untitled), Adam Goldberg's character states toward the beginning that his music is completely abstract and has nothing to do with life. SPOILER: he realizes later that he is influenced by all the sounds around him, thereby his music is connected to society.

But the kicker is the listener makes the final determination. If no one tells you the "story" behind a piece, then you are 100% free to make your own. Even when you're told, no one forces you into one mode of thinking. Your decision comes from your own experiences, pulling from cognitive schemata to influence what you hear and what it means. When I listen to Kingdom Come, I first grab all the musical elements. It's what I'm trained to do, as a musician. In particular, I listen to relationships between parts, motivic development, etc. My mind doesn't "make a story" because that's just not what I personally do. It does this with a piece programmatically titled, or a "string quartet."

Others will hear a relation to music from a movie, and equate it with some scene. Maybe something from Three Wise Men or another Middle Eastern/Balkan/Recent war type movie. Maybe the chanting sounds like what a person heard at the funeral of a beloved Eastern Orthodox family member. The list is large.

And the same is true for Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms, etc. If you're going to hate on Ingram Marshall for it, then you should hate on Beethoven for the Eroica symphony, hate on Mendelssohn for the Hebrides overture, really hate on Berlioz's Symphony Fantastique, not to mention Haydn's London Symphonies, and Mozart's String Quartets dedicated to Haydn.

And what about music "outside the concert hall?" Who gets to decide what comes into the concert hall, and when? Take, for instance, the Minuet. It is, after all, a dance. One can look back at Baroque Suites and see collections of dances, now made as concert music. Is this as large a sin? Moving forward, do we attack Dvorak for having a furiant and dumka in his string sextet? They are, after all, popular dances in Bohemia. What of the choir in Beethoven's 9th symphony? Or Gorecki's 3rd symphony with it's soloist and obvious homages?

In other words, the whole list makes no historic sense. Kennicott is basically saying "Don't do what others haven't already done." He is another version of Eduard Hanslick, a deeply rooted formalist praising the works of Brahms while attacking Bruckner for being too much like Wagner. But Bruckner was far from writing programmatic music--his biggest sin was probably his poor development of themes, direct repetition, and large lush orchestration. Kinda like Mahler...

But Kennicott has an odd twist. I'm interested to find out what he considers harmonically interesting. What are these great pieces he holds so dear that by today's standards are so harmonically rich? Because, to my ears, if it's diatonically based, more than likely I will disagree.

That does not make a piece "bad." It does not make a piece that should be hid away from kids, because kids shouldn't play such rot! Kennicott must really hate what most young performers play, from Robert W. Smith to original and simplified string works of Del Borgo. Definitely shouldn't later tackle any of the works I put above.

No, young performers need to be taught the widest amount of music as possible from the youngest age possible. It's one of the great problems of our musical society. Too many musicians share Kennicott's (inferred) views that all the great music has been written, and that anything new is not worth pursuing. I came from a different type of upbringing--without the heavy handed lessons and top performing groups, I was as free to play and listen to whatever I wanted. I once quite piano for a year because my teacher couldn't work with me on jazz and she wanted me to play hymns. Later we came to terms and I tackled Bach Preludes and Fugues, works by Edward MacDowell, and whatever else I played. And I played Ben Folds, Train (yes, Train. We were all 15 once), and whatever else I could either buy a songbook for or pick out...which if you know my ears means "buy a songbook."

If anything, we need more outreach to young students, both performers and listeners. They need to hear the wealth of music that's been made, not just the pop music of today and their current genre loves, nor of just the "classics," but a great balance of everything.

It reminds me of the listening I used to do on the first day of music appreciation. I almost always started out with some shock value, usually Penderecki's Threnody. I play it without giving the title, and we talk about it. Then I give the title. THEN I give the story of how he changed the title to Threnody later. Also on the playlist? Mozart, Snoop Dog, Free Speech by Noach Creshevsky, Un Bel Di, and Weezer's Butterfly from El Scorcho. There were a few more, but that playlist hasn't been used for many years...

The classics of yesterday were created during someones lifetime. Music is living, breathing, and evolving. Music changes as people change. To ignore that fact is to ignore history itself. And I go to the museum not to spend my time lost in thought about how amazing this ancient civilization was, but to look at a piece of art, or an artifact, and realize that, just like today, people are making what they feel they need at that moment.

So, young (and old) performers, play new music. Listen to Ingram Marshall's Kingdom Come, and every other piece I mentioned in this post. I didn't even link them, so you'll have to use Google/Bing/Yahoo/Yandex (maybe I have Russian readers?). Or if you're at a university, drop by Naxos, or DRAM, or something similar. And listen. DRAM has an amazing "random" button.

And, soon enough, I'll tackle the "problems in outreach." I agree they are there, but the answer isn't to abandon it--if we do, soon there will be no audiences for our music!

And study your history, or else some guy will call you out on not knowing it...

how'd i get here?

I have been inspired by 2 recent things to write a series on "how i got here." The first was the reminder that it's definitely the time of year people are sending off doctoral apps. We have a prospective doctoral student dropping by UMKC this week. Also, Speak Coffee has started a retrospective of her journey through the MFA process, starting with the application process. I don't have nearly the reader's she does (composers don't seem to keep as many active blogs...at least, none of my friends in the biz do.) but i figure i could offer a little wisdom.

Speak Coffee starts at her MFA process. I'm going to start with undergrad. why? because explaining my MM or DMA process to date wouldn't make sense without it. Most of you know this story, some of you may not. Dunno who reads this blog. lol.

I didn't come into this world knowing i was going to major in music. I played piano starting at a very young age, took lessons, hardly practiced. In late elementary school, i joined band, played trombone, because i accidently checked trombone instead of tuba. My family wasn't poor at the time, but we didn't have extra money floating around so i was supposed to play a "school" instrument. Alas, i checked the wrong box. heh

High school was a bore. I went to a small rural public school in Indiana. it didn't have all the fancy advantageous of bigger schools, or richer schools. The main form of music was the competitive marching band. In my time from 7th grade till 12th grade, i had 4 directors, and an assistant director. One director was a bit more influential than the rest. He had charisma oozing out of every pore. We all wanted to be music majors after hanging out with him.

At the same time, i did a lot of work for a community theater. It's a moderately successful group, the musicals tend to sell out a 500 seat auditorium at least one night of the run. not bad for a theater situated in a town of 6000 or so. It wasn't quite the draw then, but i still landed a major singing lead at 15 (Edward Rutledge in 1776. Yes, at 15 I sang "Molasses to Rum to Slaves." the archival camera, which patched audio directly from the board, actually shook when i hit the final high note. talk about clipping...). I was a theater brat. my mom has her BFA in theater design/acting/directing (yes, triple major. and almost a music minor, but didn't take theory.)

So, yeah, i didn't know what to do. I knew HS sucked, so i started looking forward to college. During my sophomore year i started planning. I was getting materials sent to me from all over the country. I clearly remember some of the schools i considered before i even nailed down a major: Claremont-McKenna, University of Miami (Fl.), John Hopkins/Peabody Conservatory, DePaul, DePauw, Lawrence University, Case Western Reserve, Carnegie Mellon, Tulane. Obviously, i had no idea what kind of school i wanted to attend or what i wanted to major in. That runs the gamut, i'd say. the only thing was a push away from major state schools and toward private schools. The question to most seniors at my school was "Purdue or IU?" i ran away...

After much soul searching, i decided upon Music over Chemistry. i still miss the feeling i got doing all those experiments, but i've replaced it with other types of experiments now. I narrowed down the schools even more- DePaul, DePauw, Lawrence, Peabody, U Miami. I sent applications to DePaul, DePauw, and Lawrence. Peabody's sat finished, waiting for me to do a recording. U Miami cost more than i was willing to spend (it was, at the time, $110 application fee.)

I didn't understand liberal arts education. I wanted my degree to be more specialized, actually learn SOMETHING rather than a little of everything. I never dreamed of going to grad school- to me a bachelors seemed terminal. I had no idea the difference between a conservatory and school of music and just a music department (my mom tried to explain that a conservatory is usually more hardcore.)

I auditioned at DePauw and Lawrence. my decision at the time was 100% based on money.

What did i learn from this?

1) Start looking at schools early even if you don't know what you want to major in. There are thousands of choices, and, depending where you are, your guidance counselors will be no help. this is especially true in music. The only people who can help are the ensemble directors/music teachers in your school, and they may not know that many programs. I know, i wouldn't have been able to tell students jack after i finished my undergrad degree.

2) Look based somewhat on where you want to live. Close to home? far far away from home? i can tell you, it's nice to have your mom be able to drive down for a concert, but have it be far enough away that it's a special trip. Gave me lots of freedom, but if i needed to get home for some reason, i could. not true anymore.

3) visit the schools. don't send a tape. go audition. do an overnight. talk to current students at ALL levels. find out as much info as possible

4) check your mail...it was in Decemeber, 2002, after i started at DePauw that i found the letter from DePaul. they had offered me a large sum of academic scholarship and wanted me to come audition. i don't regret my decision, but i do wonder a bit what would have happened at the other schools.

Thus shows my pre-undergrad years. It was a lot of indecision and fumbling around, wondering where to go and what i needed to do. There wasn't much help at my school, other than my band director giving me a few suggestions (of course, his alma mater first. lol).