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Continuing from two posts ago, when I said it was more important — by far — to develop a new, excited young audience than to focus on education and outreach…
It’s time now to say why I think most people in our field don’t seem to think this way.
First, and most simply, I think that most of us can’t imagine that new young audience ever existing. In part that’s because we’re so used to the old audience, made up of people my age (I’m 71). And in part it’s because we can plainly see that younger people don’t go, and mostly don’t want to go, to classical performances.
So reality seems stacked against my idea. In our gut, so many of us —whether we think about this consciously or not — just can’t believe the younger audience could ever happen.
Of course, then we might ask what will happen in the future. Who will the audience be? Not, of course, the same older people who are the audience now. We’ll pass on. So do we imagine, in the future, a new older audience, made up of people younger now, who as they age take an interest in classical music?
I think many people do believe this will happen. Even though there’s no evidence for such a process. The age of the audience has increased over time, and studies by the National Endowment for the Arts (the American national arts agency) show that people born after 1943 are much less likely to go to hear classical music than those born in 1943 and earlier. Some new people younger than 70 do come into the audience, but not enough of them to guarantee a future audience (or future pool of donors) anywhere near as large as the one we have now.
Looking more closely
So now let’s look a little harder at the idea that younger people — as we see them right now in our world — aren’t likely to come. Plainly, they don’t know classical music, and don’t care for it. Some of us blame our society for that, because younger people aren’t educated in classical music the way younger people were in past generations. I wouldn’t take that view — seems to me that the widespread classical music education in the past was the result (not the cause) of the widespread popularity of classical music.
But let that dispute lie for the moment. No matter which side of it you’re on, it’s plain that younger people don’t have a classical music culture. As in fact is true for just about everyone under 70. (Including, for an intriguing example, Nobel Prize-winning economist and New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, 61 years old, who’s a connoisseur of smart pop music, which he loves to talk about in his blog. Here, for instance.)
Many of us in classical music may also imagine that younger people have a dumber culture than we do. Which is another argument. You know which side of it I’m on, but I’ll skip all that here. What’s clear is that if, even unconsciously, you think that classical music culture is smarter, deeper, more artistic than the culture younger people have, then you might also think that the only way to get younger people to classical events is to dumb classical music down.
Which would be another reason not to move heaven and earth right now to develop a new, young audience, at least not as things now stand in our culture. Some people will think that to do this, we’ll have to ruin classical music. I couldn’t disagree more. I think, in fact, that the truth is just the reverse. We’ll have to make classical music a lot smarter than it seems right now, especially to sharp, smart, critical people immersed in current life, who devour the deep cultural probing in TV series like Mad Men or The Wire, and by comparison might find classical music (as currently presented) largely an exercise in nostalgia for a distant (and idealized) past.
That’s another long discussion. But people in classical music who haven’t had it, and can’t (yet) make the leap required to compare a new Quentin Tarantino film with what happens in, let’s say, our opera houses, and find the opera houses lacking…well, people in our field who don’t make this leap might not see how a new, young audience might actually boost classical music higher artistically.
Fear of change
But then we come to what perhaps lies at the heart of all this. Beneath the difficulty in believing that change could happen — that a new, young audience could emerge — may well lie fear of that happening. Fear of what classical music would be like, after it’s reborn. A Quentin Tarantino film? Well, I only used Tarantino as a rather graphic example of something superb artistically, but lightyears away from classical music. Substitute a Scorsese film, or one by Wong Kar-Wai, or a Margaret Atwood or Zadie Smith or Haruki Murakami novel. Or The Wire. Or Judy Chicago’s classic feminist art installation, The Dinner Party. Or Björk’s album Biophilia, which in its alternate form as an iPad app became the first app ever added to the Museum of Modern Art’s permanent collection. Or make your own list of current smart cultural touchstones.
Whatever you might take from other arts to suggest what classical music might become, you can quickly see that, if it follows this path, classical music will have to change. Change a lot! Which means that if you want to keep going to classical performances where you’ll be deeply, and repeatedly enriched mainly by the masterworks of the past, by Mendelssohn and Berlioz, Brahms and Bach, La bohème and Otello (with Mefistofele or a Janáček opera as occasional spice), then a new evolution of classical music might — and I sympathize — fill you with dismay. You’d be losing something you love.
Which would mean — and again I sympathize — that what I’m proposing is beyond the pale. And you might (perhaps without ever having thought this through) avidly urge outreach, education, and advocacy, as strategies to save classical music while keeping everything basically the same.
To be fair, there’s one more consideration. People at large classical music institutions may want to move toward a younger audience, in the ways I describe. But don’t dare do it full steam ahead, because they know they need the older audience, too, because that’s where the money — from ticket sales and donations — currently comes from.
Again I sympathize. But if the older audience is, as seems clear, slowly vanishing, how long can we wait before moving heaven and earth to find a new one?
I’d like to comment on the concept of classical music outreach and education and how it might relate to the idea of building a new, younger audience for this music.
First of all, I think we need to realize that classical music, in its form as what is now called a genre, did not exist until the culture industry created it in the early twentieth century. If you had stopped Brahms on his way to lunch at the Roten Igel to tell him how much you loved classical music, especially his latest symphony, he would probably have thought you were an idiot and brushed past you in a hurry. There was no classical music, there was just music. We cannot imagine a time when we didn’t have these categories, all competing with each other for the public’s attention.
But I’m afraid that what we really can’t imagine is “classical music” as it existed prior to the academic educational industry’s assumption of its custodianship. Mr. Sandow’s critique of the attempted outreach and educational approach to generating interest among younger people may be controversial enough, but what I have found to be the ultimate of the verboten is the suggestion that academia, with its professional degrees and cronyism in the control of and distribution of “new” music, has permanently removed all possibility of the perpetuation of our beloved classical music.
There was a time when this music was current, a natural component of a contemporary society’s culture. Unfortunately for us in the USA, that culture was a long time ago and in a different part of the planet. It was never here, despite the best efforts of many brilliant composers. Recall that at the turn of the twentieth century, academic kingmakers of classical music in America such as Horatio Parker ridiculed all attempts by composers to incorporate indigenous musical elements into art music. He even attacked Dvorak. This mentality was a short step away from the soon-to-come twelve tone juggernaut which would begin to consume what was left of the audience for the music of old Europe. The ultimate oxymoronic absurdity has to be the once common genre, “contemporary classical.”
We cannot really even have this discussion. Virtually everyone in classical music—composers, performers, conductors, critics—has bought into the “system” in order to survive. And the system has enabled countless musicians and teachers to have at least a middle class lifestyle. What’s not to like? I think it’s great that so many of us have found successful careers in our field. But the price that has been paid for the professionalizing of music is the surrendering of real artistic freedom to boards of examiners, prestigious degree programs, and an academic form of nepotism yielding the much vaunted “emerging” composers, poised to take the concert halls by storm. Add to that the very personal notion that “I had to do it, now you have to do it.” Could it possibly be any other way? (Keep and eye on the world of “creative writing.” The “Breadloaf-ization” of the publishing industry is already taking its toll: gotta have that MFA.)
No one is mourning the passing of the stagecoach, though there are still intrepid individuals who can build one. (Colonial Williamsburg?) No one wants to fly to Europe in a propeller plane. Yet the are many aficionados still flying prop airplanes. So it will be with classical music. We’re living in a bubble world. “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”
Only one group of people could revive classical music, and they don’t exist and never will. I mean composers capable of writing new music compelling for a wide audience. The success of classical music in the past was down to the composers, and the non-existence of living composers who write works compelling for a large audience is the real cause of the current problems,
Classical music was mortally wounded by Modernism, but it has endured for another century because the core repertoire is wonderful, supplemented by a variety or fortutitous technological and social reasons, which are now winding down. It can’t be revived because the academic musical establishment would never allow what is needed – the promotion of new works compelling to a wide audience – even in the vanishingly improbable circumstance that composers arose who were capable of writing such works..
I am English and I was born in 1972. I discovered classical music on my own initiative in my teens. By the age of 18 I had worked out what was wrong with classical music, and since that time I have accepted that wonderful though classical music is, it is a fossil. This cannot be changed. Discussion of orchestral musicians, soloists, conductors, divas, general managers, critics, PR people, etc. etc. is a distraction from the real issue: the non-existence of contemporary composers who do anything for classical music in the eyes of non-specialist audiences.
Yet I don”t want to hear anything that is more than a 100 years old. You have a point, but the average classical listener only wants to hear “muzak”.
Actually, I believe it is possible to write new works in the classical tradition that appeal to a broad spectrum, if those works develop into familiar grooves or use a groove motif as a developmental catalyst. These grooves are the folk music of our time, familiar and dance-able for the potential new audience. Mozart, Haydn, Brahms and even Tchaikovsky used folk and dance elements in there music, often as contrast to more serious intention. It is this alternation that is more the classical ideal than the baroque. Listen to two tracks at my website for examples: Pork ‘n Beans and City of Trees.
It’s important to remember that concerts of the future are not MEANT for yesterday’s audiences. In the meantime, we need, and there is room for, both, any and all.
I agree with you about orchestras not playing works by current composers that appeal to a wider audience. I don’t agree, however, with your point that these composer don’t exist. They do – outside of the academic circle you have described. But their more accessible works are not taken seriously enough to be played by the established orchestras who are set in their ways by 1) sticking to the old repertoire and 2) playing only new works from the academic pipeline. Anything else is assumed to be “muzak” as Richard says. Yes, there’s a lot of ‘muzak’ out there, but if you search harder outside the box, there are accessible composers of substance. But searching outside of the box is scary.
Resistance to change is a basic human problem; I suffer from it myself. All across our culture we see institutions resistant to change, in fields where change is desperately needed. There are many examples in the music world, such as music schools teaching music theory in the same way as ever, even when students aren’t familiar with, or even interested in, the music that relies on that kind of music theory. Attempts to change the curriculum have mostly resulted in things staying the same, not because people aren’t aware of problems, but because humans and their organizations resist change.
All kinds of activities resist change. I heard about a prominent school of orthodontics that declined to hire the best and most innovative applicant for a faculty position, presumably because the current faculty didn’t want any disruption of the way they had been teaching. Even though we hear a lot about successful innovative businesses and their famous entrepreneurs, recent history is full of businesses that failed to innovate when they had opportunities. I heard an interview with the guy who created “Mad Men,” the TV series Greg refers to. It took him years to convince executives to program “Mad Men.” They had never seen anything like it, they didn’t understand what it was, and so they declined. Once it finally aired and became successful, it became easier for similarly smart shows to get produced.
Of course some people love to consider new possibilities. But I think most people prefer whatever they’re used to.
Resistance to change is due to many factors, not just fear. Maybe one of the biggest factors is that it is that it is just plain hard to imagine things being different from the way they are. That’s why a new type of show like “Mad Men” gets rejected over and over, and then when it finally happens others are able to imitate its qualities. Creators and executives dealing with subsequent shows don’t have to make imaginative leaps that are quite as big.
Logic and urgent need don’t necessarily make much headway against resistance to change. (Jared Diamond pointed out that entire cultures have chosen oblivion over change.)
Lately I’ve been thinking that if classical music is going to rejoin the current culture, it will do so only after some musicians and organizations show the way. Once we have successful examples to imitate, more organizations will change. Until compelling examples are easily visible, most organizations and most people won’t be able to change, because most of us are not innovators, but we’re good at imitating. So classical music needs somebody to produce the equivalent of “Mad Men”—something nobody thinks will work, that turns out to strike a nerve and become successful. Then everybody else will have something to imitate, to vary, to implement in different ways.
I’m hoping some readers of this blog know more about what helps change to happen. I’d love to learn more about it.
Last night I went to a San Francisco Symphony concert that started at 6:30pm-that’s Friday night. In the audience was several groups of young 20 something women and lots of young couples. It was an eclectic program-two works for chorus only-one by Foss and Ligeti’s Lux aeterna. Ives Three Places in New England and two works by Strauss-Richard’s Also Sprach Zarathustra and J. Strauss , Jr., By the Beautiful Blue Danube Waltz. Obviously the second half related to Kubrick’s movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. But those young people probably wouldn’t have known that movie, made in 1968. Why were they there? Then I noticed that after the second choral work, a couple of young screams arose from the audience. THEY HAD FRIENDS IN THE CHORUS! And MTT went out of his way to verbally comment on the Foss and the Ives! The SFS has a series that starts at 6:30, and the programming is not always known composers. But to these young professionals, everything is new!
I am so discouraged. I just saw a performance last night at UC Berkeley – The Mark Morris Dance Group dancing the Rite of Spring as played by The Bad Plus – what could be cooler than that? It was an exhilarating show. Attendance looked OK – I’d say that the hall was about 85% full. The discouraging thing is that student rush tickets were available for about $10-15, and there were still so many empty seats. It is a series of four performances, but I feel that every seat should be filled for each performance. This is not at Large State University in Sticksville, it is at UC Berkeley!!! If you can’t bring in a young crowd there with that program, where and when and what program is going to do it? My old (54) brain cannot imagine the “new evolution of classical music” that would solve this problem (so I will continue to avidly read your blog!).
As a director of an education program at a symphony, I have to say I’m quite confused by most of this commentary. First I am surprised by the repetitive use of the word “outreach” which is an outdated word by most who take this work seriously. Outreach implies that we are giving something needed to those who don’t have the ability or intelligence to seek it out on their own. The word “engagement” is much more appropriate, even if it is overused, because it directly suggests a two-way dialogue between two groups, who have something to learn from one another. You are right, orchestras don’t need to do outreach and education, they need to learn from their audiences and communities by listening and responding.
Secondly, I would argue that this model of artistic mission and education mission as two separate goals is completely outdated, but perpetuated by the dichotomy of artistic vs. education. “Education” departments know a lot about audiences – all ages of audiences. I happen to believe that many adults want the same thing kids do – surprise, curiosity, social interaction, personally-relevant experiences – but no longer know how to ask for them. “Educational” activities and experiences can be tweaked and embedded in artistic ones, and artistic quality for family concerts should be a no-brainer, not the exception – we need smart well-designed concerts for all ages.
Lastly, I would say that yes, we might have an age issue with our audiences, but focusing on age is not the answer. I know of very few people, young or old, who like being categorized by their age. And the more intelligent the audience member, the more likely they are to be open to events that speak to their philosophy, attitude towards life, general life-style choices, than events that are designed for their age group. We should focus on attributes, attitudes, and needs/wants of particular audiences, and perhaps we end up targeting a much wider age group. An obvious example of this are adults who have children. These days, people have kids throughout their 20s, 30s, and early 40s. They have a lifestyle that centers around their children. Their lifestyle has completely changed in a very short period of time, and they are seeking new opportunities to survive this incredible life change. This abrupt break in lifestyle patterns is a huge opportunity to engage a new generation of listeners – both children and adults – yet we treat this group as second fiddle. This once very enticing group of “young people” for our marketers are now just boring parents who are too busy to go to masterworks concerts . How fickle we are! How could we capitalize on this life change and build on tried-and-true evidence that people who experience classical music when they are young have a much higher incidence of returning to the concert hall when they are older?
However this age issue is not just with parents, it’s also for groups of people who love experimenting with new kinds of music expereinces, or those who love nights listening to romantic music in the concert hall. We should do a better job of studying audiences and would-be audiences by their attributes – that go beyond age, sex, race, and income.
Kelly, nice to see you here. Thanks for taking the time to write such a detailed, thoughtful comment. A very helpful contribution to the discussions we have here. Certainly you’re in a position to speak with some authority.
My impression is that people still talk about outreach, or, even more, say the same things that have long been said under the outreach label, while using other words. I can see that “engagement” is a better label — more inclusive, for one thing — but I think the premise is much the same as it was when people in your position accepted the old idea of outreach uncritically. The practice may be refreshingly different, in some ways, but the premise might be similar. Namely, that we’re here, they’re over there, and that ways have to be found to bring them to what we do. Now we’re going to engage them, rather than speak to them from on high, but I think we still work from the assumption that there’s a big gap between us and them. And that we can’t cross the gap without special engagement and education work.
I’d propose two thought experiments. First, imagine commercial companies doing engagement and education, on the scale that we in the arts (and certainly in classical music) talk about. Imagine Coca-Cola doing it, or HBO, or on a smaller level, Warp Records, the important British electronica label. My guess is that none of us can conceive of that happening. Why would HBO set out to educate its audience? Their presumption — like Warp’s, or Coke’s — would be that they have a dependable market, and that they can keep giving the people in their market things that they like.
Commercial companies generally operate that way. They might take two approaches. First, to find out what their customers want, and give them more of that. I can imagine Coke does that a lot. And, second, to take the road laid out in famous quotes from Steve Jobs and Diana Vreeland, who both said their job wasn’t to sell what their customers wanted, but rather to sell what the customers didn’t know they wanted yet. Apple’s biggest successes were founded on exactly that, and HBO was surely acting that way when they first aired The Sopranos. Who in the cable audience would have said they wanted a show like that? But HBO didn’t educate anyone to want it. They simply put it on the air, having made an inspired artistic and commercial judgment.
That’s what I’d like to see us do. But I think we don’t really believe it’s possible. And that’s why, if you’ll forgive me, we engage in special pleading for ourselves, under labels like engagement and education. “You don’t want us now, but maybe we can get you to want us.” Rather than putting on performances whose style and content is something a new audience simply can’t resist.
The second thought experiment would be to imagine your orchestra without its engagement and education efforts. (Not that I want to take your job away! But I think you’d do fine under the new regime I’m proposing.) All it would do to bring people to it is what Coca-Cola, and Warp, and HBO, and of course Apple all do, which is to go into the market with things their target audience just can’t resist.
I think a lot of people in our business — maybe not you, Kelly, but a lot of people — would feel naked if this happened. If they had to give their performances and trust to their intrinsic appeal for an audience, rather than (forgive me) shyly hiding behind engagement and education fig leaves. I think we have a deep assumption — so deep that we might not be aware of it — that people on the whole _won’t_ be interested, and so we have to take special steps to draw their attention even in a small way.
That, to me, is a losing assumption. We start by assuming we’re defeated. One reason for that, I think, is what might be our equally unconscious presumption that we have to keep on putting on pretty much the same kind of concerts we’ve been giving, maybe with small tweaks, or maybe even some notable ones, but still basically the same. While in our hearts we know that the culture has changed too much to make that sustainable.
I think we have to be bold, and make some very big changes, very radical ones. Maybe along the lines proposed for university and conservatory music curricula in an astounding paper just released by the College Music Society. It’s at http://www.music.org/pdf/tfumm_report.pdf. Should be required reading for everyone in our field. They’re not just saying, “The world has changed, so let’s engage people to make them like us better.” They’re going all the way, and saying, “The world has changed. It no longer thinks the way we do. So let’s think the way it does.”