New Avenues in Collaboration

By Hilary Hahn
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In a time when artistic organizations are vying for attention and burgeoning public access to formerly "elite" art forms is setting a new stage for the future, artists are being challenged to rethink the definitions of their craft. They are forging lasting connections across genres and culture, some joining together over a geographical divide, others meeting up in person to make creative history. In music alone, the last few years have brought unprecedented inter-genre collaborations, as well as forays into experimental film, dance, live photography, narration, and cooking. In all fields of the arts, however, countless projects await discovery. It is clear that inventive types are pushing their own boundaries, attempting to meld their training to something out of the ordinary without losing their professional values or respect for tradition.

The latest collaborative trends incorporate little of the crossover inclinations of the past. The label "crossover" refers to mixed genres: classical plus bluegrass, rock plus classical, or plugged-in, amped-up, alternatively decorated versions of standards, to name a few.  Those experiments are now considered old hat, and much of the controversy surrounding them has died down as they have established themselves in the mainstream public's awareness. Recent developments, on the other hand, are neither mainstream nor genre-driven; instead, they are organized by the artists themselves and favor pursuits that show each participant at his or her perceived strength. If anything is mixed in such projects, it is the best qualities of the performers. Through those elements, the audience is led full circle to the initial source of inspiration: the art itself.

Like most musicians, I have ventured into unfamiliar territory. Any new project is a bit of a gamble; one hopes that someone else out there will appreciate the attempt. Most recently, I completed a tour with singer/songwriter Josh Ritter. In a joint effort, we split a recital, presenting it as solo artists (he without his band, I without a pianist) in classical concert halls, on classical concert series. The content of the program was important to us, so we shaped the project around our particular musical partnership and our individual musical preferences. Each of us performed core repertoire, and we linked our work - I joined him on some of his songs, stepping into his musical world, and he entered the classical realm in an intelligent, thoughtful way. Some onlookers thought it risky, but the entire undertaking could not have been more organic. Happily, the unbiased reactions of the concertgoers proved that listeners are ready for a challenge, ready to be led beyond their existing frames of reference. They revel in projects that performers believe in. They enjoy discovering the unusual. Most importantly, they want to be taken seriously by both artists and presenters.

For any artist, the benefits of free-flowing exchange are invaluable. I know my own experiences best, and I am grateful to my colleagues for their influence on me; working with them is an education unto itself. From fellow classical musicians, I learn mostly by example, from elements of their interpretations that catch me by surprise. Many concepts are directly applicable in performance; I try out ideas right alongside the people who inspire them. Through these colleagues, I also discover more about my artistic heritage than I knew existed. When I step outside of my classical comfort zone, on the other hand, what I pick up is more basic but equally stimulating: improvisational techniques, stylistic adaptations, abstractions in creativity, and a greater understanding of the channels of artistic movement. Sharing experiences with non-classical artists galvanizes me to reevaluate my contributions within classical music. This is not unusual. Even at our most divergent, performers from different backgrounds have many of the same goals and needs.

The creative cycle extends behind the scenes as well: administrators, too, struggle with artistic dilemmas. In trying to forge something enduring but exciting - a forward-looking community in which art can thrive - they are restrained by pressures of ticket sales reports, budgets, personnel coordination, and board meetings that few performers experience firsthand. Adding to the difficulty, relationships between office and stage can be complex, and misunderstandings are frequent. We can start small in bridging that gap. Perhaps business or administration courses could be required for performance majors. A seminar could be held about the creative demands placed on artists. We could organize a few more no-holds-barred venues for experimental projects. One item in particular should be immediately addressed: the dearth of secure forums to discuss industry frustrations, where colleagues from all disciplines can offer constructive solutions. Supportive networks are so important. Too often, in the interest of politics and jobs, people keep problems to themselves or share them only with like-minded coworkers, fostering resentment and destructive "us versus them" mentalities. With positive input, however, the smallest effort can offer infinite opportunities for development and collaboration.

Let's not forget that most people in the arts have embarked on careers of ideals. This can be divisive, as one person's ideal can undermine another's, and close-held convictions can lead to passionate disagreements. In moderation, though, such friction is a good thing, since creativity is one of the few qualities made more worthy by conflicting beliefs. We can strike a healthy balance. The future of the arts will be driven by the age-old battle between reverence and rebellion - but neither side should win.

To hear more from Hilary Hahn, read her online journal.  
To learn more about NPAC sessions such as "The Art of Living or Living for Art: A Survival Guide for Artists", visit the website.