In a post on the classical music career blog Sticks and Drones, symphony conductor Bill Eddins reflected on the paradox inherent in being creative as a career choice. Even the description “being creative” is so wildly open to interpretation (it seems to me) that artists and their audiences may experience a gap in terms of truly understanding what the role of the artist is.

Eddins puts forward that professional artists (specifically, those who make most of their living from a creative skill) may lose sight of the “magic” of creativity and offering their work to audiences. He says,

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.

He goes on to say that professional artists, in this case, musicians, become myopic. Spending hours practicing their instrument or studying scores and only conversing with other serious musicians creates an atmosphere of intense musical scrutiny. As a result, what may be an enjoyable and uncomplicated symphony program for audiences may be looked at as tedious and uninspired to the players themselves. This is clearly not a good way to do business.

Think of every tidbit of business advice you’ve ever gotten. Doesn’t “Have passion for what you do” rank somewhere at the top? The paradox for the classical musician lies in the fact that because he is involved in the business of entertaining and educating, he is subject to the whims and desires of the audience. He is simultaneously grateful someone is willing to listen to his craft and resentful he must play a few crowd-pleasers to get them in the door.

Eddins points out,

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.

He goes on,

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?

I have to admit, it is precisely because of what Eddins describes that I decided to leave a career path dedicated solely to becoming a professional vocalist and trying to get into a conservatory for a Master’s degree. After I graduated with my Bachelor’s and did a bit of legwork to find out what “real” musicians did for a living, distinct from the fun and games I experienced taking classes in school. I realized I wasn’t too thrilled about their careers or lifestyles.

I met a lovely woman whose bread and butter was singing Mozart’s Queen of the Night. This sounds great, right? Well, to me I thought the idea of singing The Queen, night after night, on stage after stage for 30+ years sounded just as banal as some desk job. In fact, I promptly got myself a desk job, since at least the competition was less fierce and the income stream more steady. It seems I am just like the musicians Eddins describes, but I could read the writing on the wall long before I dedicated myself to a performance-only career path and did audiences the service of bowing out. I find much more enjoyment out of performing the things I want, when I want, and this way (I hope) my performances remain fresh and inspired.

I am thrilled Eddins’ is pointing to multiple, complex, issues in classical music requiring problem-solving and soul-searching among creative professionals. Perhaps those seeking a creative career will finally understand the will of the audience must come first about 80% of the time and personal creative expression is perhaps only 20% of the job, and those who are not comfortable with that will choose another career. However, perhaps audiences will realize that the “magic” of being creative is not magic at all, but hours of toil, practice, and research – creative muck-raking, if you will. No creative professional rolled out of bed, inspired and creatively perfected. Their needs to be appreciated for their uniqueness is just as great as that young girl with the desk job. To them, playing a well-received Beethoven symphony is rewarding – but it’s been done so many times, they yearn for something else.

Eddins is on to something. I will have to keep mining this topic for clarity and insight, and I know this is just scraping the surface.