Looking at an orchestra through the four frames, I don’t see any space designed for innovation, imagination and open questions.
I don’t see anything like a workshop.
What do I mean by ‘workshop’? I mean a room where you go to prototype ideas and solutions to problems. A room that can suspend ‘real world’ systems and relationships. A room where you get better at your craft as well as tackle specific projects.
Myself and just about every musician I know has a room like this. We call it a practice room. In the practice room you try to identify what the problem is; you suspend real world relationships and break things apart (like pitch, pulse and rhythm); you design solutions and prototype them. You try your prototypes in the real world (‘at tempo’), observe where they fail and go back to the drawing board.
An orchestra could use a room like this. A funded room that sidesteps silos and brings teams of musicians, staff, volunteers and invited guests together. A room where ideas to make better things are prototyped, tried in the real world, observed for failure and retooled.
In the workshop, absent traditional, structural roles we could try on new roles and see projects from different perspectives. There’s a chicken and egg relationship between the structure and culture of orchestras. An unstructured room gives us an opportunity to play with the future. To see the value proposition of new things (structures, power, relationships, etc.) without demolishing the status quo. Could it lead to our picking up new things – tools, relationships, ways of doing things? Maybe. If so, it would be because we’re interested in the things that we’ve prototyped and experienced in the real world – as opposed to being asked to put down current tools, relationships, ways of doing things for an untested promise. Or, worse, under threat.
Regardless of how much a workshop – an ‘unstructured room where it happens’ – shifts the whole landscape of a professional American orchestra I think it’s a hack worth trying. I think it could help us do more creative, valued work.
The ancient Greeks had several words for truth. One was Aletheia, which roughly means “creating a space where truth can appear.” For many orchestra musicians, the practice room is not so much a place for exploration, as a place to routinize highly codified performance practices. In that sense, it’s not so different from a rehearsal hall.
So one must ask, is the space where truth can appear physical? Or is it at least first created by opening our minds?
Psychological studies demonstrate that people in authoritarian situations like orchestras desire very clear directives, and a strong sense of authority. If it is lacking they develop anxiety. [See: Piperek, Maximilian. Stress und Kunst. Gesundheitliche, psychische, soziologische und rechtliche Belastungsfaktoren im Beruf des Musikers eines Symphonieorchesters. (Vienna, 1971).]
If orchestra musicians were put into a space without the strictures they are accustomed to, they would probably feel strongly disoriented. They might see the freedom simply as anarchy. A range of unproductive emotions and reactions might result. (One can also observe that orchestras temporarily without General Music Directors often descend into internal disputes that tear them apart. Only the big, bad wolf keeps the piglets working with each other.)
If the workshop you mention were created, it might be best to begin with some clearly formulated questions and goals on to which a select group of orchestra musicians known for the open-mindedness could grasp. The transition toward freedom and genuine creativity would need to be measured and taken in steps.
By contrast, one could put a group of jazz musicians or a contemporary music ensemble into such a workshop, and they hardly miss a beat. They’d likely go right to work with very few directives and very little stress.
So are we asking an orchestra to grow, or are we asking it to be something it is not, and cannot be, like trying to get a Model-T to fly? There seems to be a pattern that experiments with new forms of structural organization cause orchestras to simply dissolve over time. Memphis would be an example. As the orchestra art form dies, it seems like the only thing holding them together is exactly their ossification.
Anyway, I think orchestras could grow, but the transitions would need to be slow, carefully planned, and with a clear eye toward long-term consequences.
Hi William, apologies for the delayed response and thanks for your comment.
Much of your assessment of orchestral musicians and orchestra life rings true – like the desire for clear directives and authority. In terms of your assessment of what happens in an orchestral musician’s practice room – I think you sell us short. It’s true that one of the chief jobs of an orchestral musician is to ‘stick the landing’ (or as you say, routinize highly codified performance practices). But in our practice rooms we’re still exploring – how to play more expressively, with a better sound, with more ease. Admittedly – maybe not unlike the work a repertory theater actor does on their own – a lot of our time is spent learning and running our lines. But like the actor, we’re not just memorizing sequences. And yes, that’s not the same kind of practice as the improv actor or the writer. But its not devoid of creativity or artistry.
I think your skepticism of orchestras’ ability to grow and change is fair and probably hard earned. Still I”m glad that you think that growth is still possible! I’m glad because I’m bought into the idea that orchestras can change – that we can occupy a different space in communities, that we can serve people differently, that we can tell different stories, that we can cultivate musicians practice differently. The idea that orchestras can change was one of the things that allowed me to envision a practice for myself and inspired me to make the long slog into the professional ranks.
Change won’t happen just because we make changes to our structure. Among other things, it will also require new definitions of success, new goals, the development of new skills and new applications of old skills. Your last point is right on: change needs to be planned.