You’d think from the number of times I’ve mentioned my jury duty on this blog I had served on a three-month trial. In actuality, I only spent 2 days on jury selection, and wasn’t even chosen to serve, probably due to the fact that, when given the opportunity to ask anything of one of the defense attorneys, I asked if he truly believed in every client he chose to represent. Next.
The other defense attorney possessed an uncanny ability to not connect with any of us. One woman in the front row had written down “reading” as a hobby on her jury survey, so this attorney asked what she was reading currently. “Well…it’s kind of embarrassing: I’m reading Twilight.” “What’s that?” he asked. Really? He has no idea what Twilight is? OK, fine – he doesn’t see movie posters or know any teenage/20-something/apparently 40-something women. Then this attorney got to a guy in the second row, who was probably about 28 and said he handled the booking of pop music tours. “So you like music; do you listen to 90.7 WFUV?” No, the guy responded, I don’t own a radio. Strike Two. Pop music guy asked some question about decision-making on the jury, and the lawyer decided to give him an example from “pop culture” rather than answer his question straight: “Well, you’ve seen the movie Twelve Angry Men, right?” No, pop guy had not. “But most of you have seen the movie Twelve Angry Men, certainly?” Everybody shook their heads except me and a woman behind me, and I was tempted to be a brat and say I had seen both the play AND the movie, but held back. Then we got to the also youngish guy next to the pop guy – let’s call him the “sporty guy” – who had written down “sports” as his hobby. It somehow came up that he had gone to Duke undergrad, to which the lawyer responded, “So you must be a basketball fan, eh? Duke’s not doing so well, are they?” “Well, it’s over, actually,” said sporty guy. Strike Five for the defense, at least.
In his attempt to naturally relate to potential jurors, this poor guy only showed that 1. he had no idea what Twilight was 2. he thought 28-year-olds in 2009 in New York City listened to the radio 3. he figured every juror in 2009 had seen a movie that came out in 1957 and 4. he didn’t know that college basketball season was over. By trying to be like us, he could not have alienated the group more.
On Day Two of my jury selection, the lawyer for the MTA began (it was a case where a city bus had hit a car with two people in it). This should be rich, I thought; no way a room of thirty New Yorkers is going to like the counsel for the MTA. “How many of you love the MTA?” was his opener. The room burst into laughter and eye-rolls. “OK, how many of you hate the MTA?” A few hands shot up, mine included. “When I first started working for the MTA, I asked them: I said, guys, when I’m on the 6 train, and it’s coming into the station, and the 4/5 express trains are across the platform, why don’t they just wait for the 6 train? That’s so annoying!” He continued to complain about the people who sign his paychecks, and then told us it didn’t actually matter whether or not we or he had ever had subway trouble; we had to judge this case fairly. He also said something general about turning on the news only seeing bad news, something, again, that a room of New Yorkers could all relate to. He gets us! He’s like us! Let’s side with him.
This all reminded me of an argument I had with a friend a few weeks ago very late in a bar in Brooklyn. We have a mutual pianist…let’s say “acquaintance”…who I do not like and he does like. I don’t understand why you don’t like her, he said. Because she’s not smart, I responded. Amanda, she is smart. Anyone who plays the piano that well is smart. Not true not true!, I shrieked, continuing, musical-smart does not necessarily equal smart-smart! And anyway, she doesn’t read the news. Or books. She’s getting better at that, he offered. Oh is she now; she needs to get “better” about reading the news? How can she be a relevant artist if she doesn’t know what’s going on in the world around her?
When I got home, I texted my friend, unable to let the argument go, as per my usual. I wrote, and I quote (I found it on my phone): “I have refined my point: If Hilary, Helene, Alisa [meaning Weilerstein, who I know but do not represent] or Gabe were unable to play instruments at all, let alone as well as they do, they would still be fascinating.”
So this, combined with my the recent attorney mash-up, leads me to ask: does it matter if artists have other stuff going on besides their music? Should they be able to completely relate to their audiences, or do they get a free pass because they are exceptional at one thing? Do we want our classical stars to be just like us, or do we like it when they’re on another plane? And if audiences do want to be able to relate to classical musicians, is it a publicist’s or manager’s job to force artists to read books, to watch the news, to get some hobbies? Can having outside interests – and being interesting – be taught?
On classical music stars being “like the rest of us”: to me, it doesn’t really matter if I’m listening to a recording or even watching them at a concert hall, but when they take the time to talk to you and relate to other parts of life, I start to think of them more as great people than just great musicians.
The best concert I’ve ever been to in my life was Gil Shaham “and friends” (Adele Anthony, Masao Kawasaki, Paul Neubauer, Alisa Weilerstein) playing at the Perimeter Institute in Waterloo, ON (an all-Brahms program). All the musicians were outstanding (look at that list! How could they not be?), but that concert has easily been the most memorable in my (relatively short) life because of what happened after the show: a few friends and I were invited up to the in-house bistro to dine and drink with the world-class performers we just saw (and there were only 4 other people at the table other than the musicians and my friends)! When we complimented them on their playing, they were friendly and warm, and thanked us with true sincerity; we got autographs, pictures, asked what it was like to be a professional musician (Alisa Weilerstein was about to head off to play the Brahms double with Janine Jansen), and had some good conversation all around. Shaham was even nice enough to pull out his Comtesse Polignac Strad and Tortue bow to show us, and Neubauer let us look at his 1619 Amati viola as well.
My point? Sure, the night would have been good with a wonderful performance by some of the world’s best musicians, but their ability to open up and relate to a bunch of kids in their early 20’s made them really special in all of our minds.
I was recently involved in an “entrepreneurial musicianship” consulting project for NEC, to make sure their students acquire all the professional and personal skills to be successful musicians in their chosen careers. It was tempting at first to conclude that all musicians must be knowledgeable about world affairs, popular culture, finance, etc., in order to relate to today’s audiences. While this “knowledge” may be of value and interest to some musicians, it is not as critical a factor in their professional success as having the “skills” as performers to:
-Collaborate musically with other performers
-Demonstrate appropriate stage presence
-Engage and interact with audiences musically in performance
-Develop creative concert programs that are appropriate to diverse audiences and
-Communicate succinctly and clearly with audiences about the music
What distinguished the MTA attorney was not that he knew more answers to popular culture or current events trivia questions than the plaintiff’s attorney. It is that he focused his energy and attention on the jury, rather than himself. Similarly, musicians who focus the passion of their performances outwardly to audiences, in my view, who are generally more successful than those who are self-absorbed, regardless of technical ability.
In my experience, my biggest successes were when I let the artist be the artist rather than trying to coach them into being something else (and believe me, I’ve done it both ways).
I think you responded to the MTA attorney because he connected with YOU. He was successful at building “relationship” using a technique of finding common ground (we all hate the subway) rather than the pathetic attempts of the other attorney (who was trying a different technique and was clearly not successful).
Perhaps you want to think about the question — can you help folks learn to ‘build relationships’ and I’m not sure of the answer to that. Many classical musicians — especially the older ones — spent their formative years locked in a rehearsal room with their instruments so, perhaps naturally, they relate better with metal, wood and strings than they do with living breathing humans.
In addition, in order to achieve greatness as a singer, conductor, or musician – they had to have an almost singular focus. In regular life, to achieve greatness as a banker, writer or publicist — you have to have BREADTH and DEPTH if you know what I mean. No great writer ever got great just writing in one style and one topic.
Anyway, I think you can help musicians understand that in order to make an impact for what they want to SAY (on stage and in an interview) they have to learn to get that message “across the footlights” in the same way that they try and get their musical message “across the footlights.” One musician who clearly understands this is Michael Tilson Thomas, who can TALK and PLAY and CONDUCT, but even he has been accused of sometimes being awkward one on one.
No easy answers here, but YES, I think we do have a responsibility to make sure our artists can have the impact they want to have in every situation.
It’s not that the first attorney didn’t know much about contemporary culture but that he made an apparently lame effort to engage on that level. (Perhaps someone had coached him to do this?) Maybe if he’d been his own attorney-self and not “tried so hard” you would have formed a better impression of him. After all, it’s easy to respect and like an authentic, honest personality, even if he doesn’t have much in common with you, and it’s easy to lampoon someone who’s acting out of their comfort zone, perhaps unnecessarily.
I have known and worked with musicians who are naturally comfortable in what you could loosely describe as the world of contemporary culture. I’ve known other musicians who probably wouldn’t know about the basketball season and won’t have read Twilight (or the equivalents of these things). But they live their lives in full and rich ways, and they have genuine passions of their own – musical or otherwise, esoteric or mundane. And it’s possible to have wonderful, fascinating conversations with both kinds of artist because in both cases they are being authentic and true to themselves.
Joe captures the essence of it as far as performance is concerned: it really doesn’t matter how cool or up-to-the-minute your extra-musical hobbies are if you don’t have the stagecraft to put your performance of the music across the footlights. Richard Tognetti (AD of the Aust. Chamber Orch.) is a keen surfer, but when he’s on stage that counts for nothing – what’s important is that he can really play and that he has distinctive ideas about the music.
The other part of it – the non-performance part – is about connecting with other people, e.g. the social situation Andrew describes. And that comes down to courtesy and thoughtfulness for other people. But again, those qualities are quite independent of one’s hobbies and interests. I’d rather go to a post-show dinner with a good-mannered musician whose life and passions are totally centred on music than with someone who lacks social skills, no matter how broad and fascinating his or her interests.
I was going to leave a long comment but instead I posted about it on Sticksanddrones this morning and linked back to you. Suffice it to say, that if a musician is lost in the music and in themselves, and the audience is lost in the music and themselves, then everybody is lost!
Here’s my post: http://tinyurl.com/q7mxlk
Ron Spigelman