Category: Columns

Live Streaming 101: Why Live Stream?

When I jumped into live streaming in 2013, I had no idea what I was doing—and my first stream featured a world-renowned pianist performing in a packed hall. The Gilmore Keyboard Festival, where I am on staff, was presenting a concert to the community featuring Kirill Gerstein. Because the concert was being offered free to the public, someone at a staff meeting asked, “Can we live stream this concert?” And from the silence, I blurted out, “Yes!”

You can watch segments of the 4:3 / 480p video here:

At the time, the Detroit Symphony Orchestra had been live streaming concerts for two years. Today, they are a leader in classical music live streaming, presenting around 30 concerts a year online. At The Gilmore, however, live streaming repeatedly brought up one major concern. This concern resonated throughout the office, though I didn’t believe it to be true:

If we offer the concert for free online, won’t it negatively impact ticket sales?

Despite this resistance, streaming a concert live to the internet became a small obsession of mine. With some help from the local Public Media Network, great audio engineers, and the world-class performances at The Gilmore, I managed to get our concerts online, with high-quality audio and multi-camera shoots.

As I gained experience managing small teams of videographers and audio engineers, I learned the ins and outs of the technology, the philosophy, and the social media impact. I even found ways to live stream my own new music concerts—without breaking the bank.

Building off my presentation at the New Music Gathering in Boston this year, during the month of June, I will explore why to live stream, preparing and advertising a live stream, the technology behind various live streaming set-ups, and how to begin collaborating with individuals or organizations to maximize reach and impact.

Why live stream?

If you somehow missed the memo, video consumption is, and has been, on the rise. In 2017, Facebook Live broadcasts quadrupled and 3.25 billion hours of video are watched on YouTube each month. From a marketing perspective, having video content is a no-brainer. But live streaming is a little different.

Live streaming—the act of broadcasting an event in real-time—gives us the unique opportunity to capitalize on the energy of a live performance, while enabling others outside of our community to participate. With advances in technology, it has also become increasingly easy to broadcast live video to the internet.

By live streaming our music, we gain the following:

  1. Expansion of reach and visibility (marketing, social media, locations, networks)
  2. Accessibly for both our current audience and potential future audience
  3. Increasing trust and loyalty from our fans
  4. Excellent content for later use (YouTube channel, website, grant proposals, sharing)

But what about the impact on ticket sales? This is where you need to trust your audience. I would argue that most people are cognizant of the uniqueness of a live concert experience. Given a choice and with no outside barriers, most people would choose a live event over a video version of it. By offering live streams of your events at no charge, you are trusting that the audience members you have will continue to buy tickets if they can. The benefit of the stream then becomes the ability to engage the dedicated fans who just couldn’t be there (thus allowing them to continue to participate in the experience), while also potentially reaching future audience members who are not fans—yet.

FOMO and concert attendance

Although research is limited, current case studies and surveys point to the same conclusion: after watching a live-streamed concert, viewers are more likely purchase tickets to future concerts. It’s like giving a sample of something delicious at Costco.

It’s important to note that many reports come from service providers like Livestream.com, who are trying to sell their services. Still, according to their 2017 survey, “67% of viewers are more likely to buy a ticket to a similar event after watching a live video.” The idea is simple: viewing a great live stream allows current fans to engage with a concert they would probably not have been able to attend otherwise, and allows potential fans to get a sample of a live event they may want to attend in the future. You are building community.

You’re also working off two sides of FOMO. If you’ve managed to avoid current slang and abbreviations, FOMO is the “fear of missing out.” Regardless of what one thinks about FOMO’s powers of motivation, it is a factor at work that everyone on social media experiences at some level. By live streaming your concerts, you can increase FOMO for those who are on the fence about attending your upcoming programming. On the other hand, you may also be able to dissipate some of those FOMO feelings via the live stream by giving your dedicated fans a way to participate, despite not being there.

Post-Stream Benefits

After the live-stream event (and the real-life concert), the video lives on, and some algorithms, like those on Facebook, perpetuate the views for a short while, reminding people of what they missed the night before. If you captured audience emails at your concert, you could send attendees a thank you email with a link to the video. You can also send the video to friends and colleagues who couldn’t be there.

The most important post-stream benefit is the content you’ve created. If you get the chance to clean and mix the audio and re-sync to the video, you have an entire concert to segment into individual pieces for your YouTube channel, your website, portfolio submissions, etc.

Recommendations:

  1. Make sure all content stakeholders are aware and in agreement about how the captured media will be used and distributed well in advance.
  2. Don’t repost the entire concert in full. Only keep the entire performance video up as a result of the live stream.
  3. Segment out individual pieces and create a lead in and a closer for each video, with proper credits to performers, composers, and technicians as text overlays.
  4. Develop a channel/page where all of your media lives.
  5. Use the reposting of video content to strategically activate your social media or blog/newsletter presence.

Upcoming articles

Next week, we will discuss technical preparation, advertising, basic artist agreements, and a complete guide to hosting your stream on different platforms such as Facebook, YouTube, Twitter/Periscope, and other streaming hosting services.

My Year of Awkward Encounters; or, Networking at Concerts

I wouldn’t say I’m an introvert. I wouldn’t even have called myself a particularly awkward person before. But recent events have caused me to seriously reconsider my position on the matter.

Two years ago, I started a job at Boosey & Hawkes as a marketing and PR person. The job frequently takes me into the concert hall, backstage with artists, and out with industry contacts and journalists. This was a significant change from my previous job as an editor, which required little networking and had me working far behind the scenes. There was a lot to learn quickly in my new people-facing position, and in the beginning, I was mainly just learning how excessively gifted I was at getting myself into an impressive range of awkward social situations.

The reality is, a lot of people—even the ones who are good at it—dislike mingling at concerts. Almost everyone you encounter is perfectly cordial, but they’re usually hanging around because they’re looking to speak to someone specific. Conversations are full of unfocused attempts to connect while also trying to be as charming as possible—occasionally opening up large pits of awkwardness to fall into. When did connecting with other people become so difficult?

Suffice it to say, when you’re going to two or three shows a week, that adds up to a lot of pride-snuffing, awkward interactions that eventually you learn to muscle though. For me, those moments have ranged from inexplicably finding myself wedged under the armpit of a major opera company’s artistic director at a crowded post-concert reception, to telling the head of a prestigious London venue during an intermission that I thought her concert hall’s bathrooms were “fantastic!” and the “best in the city.” My experiences as a newcomer to the industry were so reliably and comically bad that my boss got in the habit of asking me each morning after a concert what my “awkward moment of the night” was.

Allow me to share some of my hard-won knowledge of best practices for navigating the murky waters of networking, in hopes that you can learn from my mistakes—or, at the very least, find comfort in the fact that I’ve probably embarrassed myself in public more than you have.

The Introduction

Once, I was backstage after a New York Philharmonic concert chatting with a bunch of people in a circle, when a famous pianist walked right into the middle. Then—seemingly just realizing he was in the middle of a circle—he slowly turned around and landed his gaze on me. Everyone else in the room stopped talking and stared at me too. After several unbearable seconds, I stuck my hand out and began verbal vomiting: “HellomynameisCarolAnnCheung. IworkatBoosey&Hawkes. It’sanhonortomeetyou. Congratulationsontheperformance.” He shook my hand, then silently turned away and walked back out of the circle.

Introductions can be The Worst. Sometimes people are receptive to meeting you; sometimes they slowly and silently walk away from you. What if the person you want to talk to is surrounded by people you don’t know? What if they’re talking to one person for an interminably long time, and you feel uncomfortable interrupting?

Depending on the situation, when I see a person I want to meet and they’re already talking to other people, I might wait a little bit to see if they wrap up their conversation. If that takes too long, I walk up to a person, get in their line of sight and make eye contact, and say, “Excuse me. Hi, I wanted to introduce myself.” (It can also be helpful in these situations to ask a mutual contact or friend to introduce you.)

What if someone doesn’t want to be approached? Say you walk up to someone and they blow you off. Sometimes that happens with journalists or artistic administrators who get bombarded regularly by people trying to pitch them ideas. That’s fine—accept that this isn’t the right way to establish contact with this particular person and move on. Don’t take it personally.

woman face down on table

Photo by Pim Chu

The Conversation

I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes when I’m caught in a dry conversation and scraping the bottom of things to talk about, I offer a person chocolate from my secret stash in my purse (sneaking snacks into the concert hall is one of my favorite pastimes). That signature move has saved me from awkwardness many a time. (Also, don’t be offended if I’ve ever offered you chocolate. I happen to eat chocolate a lot at concerts.)

On a more serious note, if you’re going to approach someone to introduce yourself, it helps to know what you want out of the exchange—do you have a question for them about their creative projects? Do you just want to introduce yourself and what you do, and then follow up later with a message? Do you want to tell them about something you’re working on?

When pitching ideas to people, understand they’ll probably spot your agenda a mile away. Be a gracious conversationalist and make a point to also ask what they’re working on, what they’re excited about, or have seen lately.

Exit Strategy

Last year, I was at an industry party and spotted a journalist passing by (not a particularly chatty guy), and said hi. The conversation petered out somewhat quickly, and after a few seconds of awkward silence, he raised his glass, clinked it against mine, and walked away. I stood there slightly mortified and thought, “Was that me or was that him?” In truth, it was probably a little of both.

Since then I’ve learned to anticipate the awkward silence and make a quick (but polite) exit when the conversation is winding down. Say, “Great to see you! Hope to run into you at another show soon.”

If you want to continue your conversation, make sure you establish a way you can get in touch again before you step away.

Alternate Networking Strategies

If you struggle as I do with socializing in these contexts, it’s also really valuable to find ways to network that seem more natural for you. The concert hall may be a convenient place to meet contacts, but I’ve found my best and most productive connections were made via casual one-on-one meetings. You’d be surprised how many people are willing to sit down for informational meetings when you simply introduce yourself over e-mail, describe your interest in what they do, and ask to meet up to talk. This was a revelation for me when I first started working; meetings like this have opened so many doors for me professionally.

In Conclusion

I’ve told other seasoned professionals of my socializing woes, and everyone laughs and remembers how much it generally sucked to be in my place earlier in their careers. There’s some comfort in knowing there’s hope for an ugly duckling yet.

I can say that over time I’ve developed a pretty thick skin for these types of social interactions. Gradually, those moments of clumsy introductions and forced conversation have become fewer and farther between as I get to know and work with more people in the industry.

That said, the next time you see me at a concert, go easy on me. Or, come say hi and ask for some chocolate. Let’s get awkward.

Dynamic Music Appreciation

I’ve become a strong believer in the responsibility artists have to invite a lay audience into meaningful dialogue with art. I don’t care which art form any individual chooses to engage in so long as somewhere they are nourishing their lives with art that challenges beyond the delightful entertainment of Hollywood, mainstream pop music, or quick-read books. As full-time artistic creators, we should proselytize for the power of our artistic medium and how the human experience is both defined and deepened by artistic expression. Those of us who engage regularly with our audiences have the opportunity to help them understand difficult but important music. Many of us have had some experience as high school students when a capable English teacher opened our souls to challenging literature such as Shakespeare, Bronte, Steinbeck, or Lee. With a bit of context, questions, and guidance, a new world opened. This artistic nourishing should happen beyond high school, and working artists are in a special position for this task. We have the credentials and passion to stand in front of a classroom and invite people into a deeper relationship with art.

A recent discussion I had with Conrad Kehn, a Denver-based composer and new music impresario, raised new questions about the current practice of music appreciation classes. He shared that a curriculum restriction required that a course he teaches at a community college focus almost entirely on classical music (white, male, European composers). Most of his students, first generation college students, are from non-white, non-European cultures. Is it a form of cultural imperialism to insist they learn only this material if they want to take a music appreciation class? While I love European classical music and hope there is always room to teach these great composers, our world is much bigger. We all have access to music from a variety of genres, cultures, and modes of creative process. Courses can easily include multiple genres and music that falls outside of traditional notation. If the fundamental goal is for a lay audience to have a greater appreciation for music, cross-genre courses are more compelling and inclusive of greater varieties of musical expression. Artists increasingly cross genres and disciplines, and our courses should reflect that.

We have to be passionate about our subjects so that we offer our best charismatic voices when teaching.

Through the success of my music appreciation course “Tragedy and Inspiration”, I’ve wondered what other topics would attract today’s undergraduates. “Music and the Civil Rights Movement”, “Music as Protest”, “Composers Who Cross Borders”, “Self-Taught but Brilliant”, “Opera, Sex, and Violence”, “Music as Ritual and Religious Expression” are all ideas that could examine a great body of music through compelling lenses. The organizing construct is the way to draw in students. All teachers have a body of music that they are well equipped to teach. We have to be passionate about our subjects so that we offer our best charismatic voices when teaching. Our diverse interests and expertise will lead to a myriad of topics that invite the lay listener into the art.

“Music and the Civil Rights Movement” could host a variety of styles crossing more than 200 years of American history. The bulk of the class might focus on the core of the Civil Rights era but should include the evolution of African-American spirituals, the early formation of blues and jazz, the emergence of rap and hip hop, and many current genres articulating the ongoing struggle against racism in America. Jazz pieces would include Coltrane’s Alabama, Mingus’s Fables of Faubus, Meerpol’s “Strange Fruit,” Armstrong’s “(What Did I Do To Be So) Black and Blue?,” and Roach’s We Insist! Freedom Now Suite, among others. Gil Scott-Heron, N.W.A., Kendrick Lamar, Macklemore, and Public Enemy are among many artists who have all used the platform of powerful lyrics to highlight the many forms of contemporary racism. Classical pieces could include Nkeiru Okoye’s opera Harriet Tubman: When I Crossed That Line to Freedom, Steve Reich’s Come Out, Wynton Marsalis’s oratorio Blood on the Fields, and Frederic Rzewski’s Attica and Coming Together.

Composers thrive with cultural diversity.

“Composers Who Cross Borders” invites a large umbrella of diverse music. From the Beatles’ work with Ravi Shankar to Toru Takemitsu’s embrace of French impressionism to Tanya Tagaq’s integration of throat singing, metal, and Inuit culture – composers thrive with cultural diversity. A host of musical artists have migrated around the world to embrace aspects of their new countries while maintaining a core identity rooted in their place of origin. Composers Gabriela Lena Frank, Tan Dun, Tania León, and Osvaldo Golijov embrace multicultural influences that define the Americas. Classical composers Béla Bartók, Steve Reich, and Claude Debussy pulled key aspects of their musical language from other cultures.

Teaching music appreciation has also helped cultivate or sustain the passion I have for art music. The process of preparing to teach a subject requires a deep dive that may reveal new insights and invite a fresh look. Finding the words to explain a complex subject has expanded my thinking on many topics and is a constant reminder of the richness present in the works of great composers who make up my chosen art form. Preparing to teach forces growth and informs my own composition. The classroom experience is for both the students and myself. I end up loving this music more each time I teach it, and I am always delighted by unexpected comments offered by the students. The greatest compliment is when students tell me they now listen to music with a greater depth.

Samples of writings by Daniel Kellogg’s students in response to questions in his Music Appreciation classes. (Reprinted with permission.)

Removing Barriers to New Music

My job as a marketing communications manager at Boosey & Hawkes brings me out to multiple concerts a week, at venues large and small, fancy and scrappy, spread out around New York City. Still, you go to enough new music concerts and you start to notice a lot of the same faces. That’s not necessarily a bad thing—part of what I enjoy about this industry is its strong sense of community and support for one another’s work. But it begs the question: Can we develop a broader, more diverse audience base for the new music scene?

As a marketing person, when I consider concert-marketing strategy it’s helpful to think about what barriers keep people from attending a concert, not just identifying the people who would likely come to a show.

So what keeps people from checking out new music concerts?

People want to know if they’re going to like something before they invest the time and money.

1. The Unknown. Will I like this music? What’s it sound like? Does anyone I know like this music? Contemporary music as a niche genre is a big risk with a lot of question marks, with generally lesser-known composer and performer names, and few points of reference in daily life for what the music sounds like. People want to know if they’re going to like something before they invest the time and money.

Can we build points of reference? How much does your music overlap with a more traditional classical music sound, and how much does it overlap with other more broadly recognizable types of music, like pop, electronic, jazz, or rock? Can we appeal to the crossover nature of some of the music being produced today to reach a new audience through different channels, outlets, and creative collaborations?

We should think about how to remove some of the unknowable risk of going into the concert experience. Can we make other aspects of a concert more familiar? An organization like Groupmuse is an example of making classical music less formal and bringing chamber music groups into people’s everyday lives and spaces. LoftOpera has made the experience of attending the opera feel like a huge warehouse party, something that can more easily align with a person’s lifestyle than, say, a standard opera performance. Several larger institutions like Carnegie Hall host free concerts in community venues that invite people who wouldn’t normally go to a concert hall to experience music in a more accessible space.

2. Insecurity. Experiencing new music live can sometimes feel opaque. Will I understand what’s happening on stage? Do you need a degree in music in order to enjoy it? Will I get bored? Will I be uncomfortable?

Those insecurities have proven time and again to be well founded, as new music is indeed often presented in an intimidating way. I once attended a concert that was marketed as welcoming to neighborhood community members and families with children. The lights went down, and two hours of continuous drone sounds passed in almost complete darkness. Then the lights came on and the show was over.

Part of the problem is that even people within the new music scene are unwilling to admit when they don’t enjoy an experience (which feels unhealthy on many levels).

How can we challenge and encourage each other to create better art and produce better, more welcoming concerts? Can we communicate what makes the music interesting both at the concert and ahead of time? Can we dive into a single moment in the music and share what’s meaningful about it?

The podcast Meet the Composer with Nadia Sirota spotlights a composer in each episode, illuminating his or her history and mindset, and dives into the heart of what makes a piece of music so vital, interesting, and emotionally compelling. This past season, Alarm Will Sound presented a podcast-in-concert hosted by Sirota and Alan Pierson at Zankel Hall about the life and work of Gyorgy Ligeti. The performance portions of the evening were energized and informed by the exploration of the dramatic events in his life, and the format gave audience members points of connection from minute to minute.

How else can we create the experiences you want to (and can) engage with?

People read not seeing composers or performers who look like themselves as a cue for whether or not they will feel like they belong at this concert.

3. Not belonging. A very real barrier for many people is not seeing composers or performers who look like themselves—age, gender, or race-wise—represented on stage. People read this as a cue for whether or not they will feel like they belong at this concert and if there will be other people who look like them attending.

Who are you inviting to your concerts? Whose events do you attend yourself? Who do you collaborate with? When we ask ourselves how to broaden our audience base, the best solution I’ve come across is to strengthen and expand our community from within, by seeking out and listening to the ideas and experiences of people from diverse backgrounds.

Helga Davis discussed these questions, among many other illuminating matters of diversity, in her powerful keynote address at last week’s New Music Gathering. She challenged the audience to earnestly look at the makeup of the new music field and reflect on what the industry needs to do in order to connect with and be relevant to a larger community.

Watch Davis’s speech starting at 32:45.

I’ve asked a lot of questions in this space, all summed up by this: How can we create a new music concert experience that is more welcoming, more engaging, and more inclusive? The new music industry has great potential to improve the classical music concert culture. Composers and musicians are already stepping out of the box to create music and experiences beyond the traditional setting, taking risks with the performance experience, and constantly grappling with how to move the art form forward.

What are your thoughts for reaching new audiences? What concerts have you seen that made the music experience more engaging and welcoming?

Misfits and Geniuses

The success of my course “Tragedy and Inspiration” spurred me to think of other meaningful ways to group contemporary music in a compelling music appreciation-style class. “Misfits and Geniuses” became my next course. I started with the attractive idea of creative rebels who bucked traditional boundaries and existed on the fringe. Which composers wrote new rules, expanded the space for music, and crossed dividing lines? This course includes Charles Ives, John Cage, George Crumb, John Luther Adams, Philip Glass (focusing on Koyaanisqatsi and Einstein on the Beach), Meredith Monk, Morton Subotnick, Pamela Z, and Frank Zappa. Undergraduates love the idea of a rebel genius. That simple premise invites meaningful discussion of Cage’s ideas on silence, Zappa’s absurd plurality of styles, and Meredith Monk’s use of the human voice as an expressive instrument separate from the restrictions of language. The variety of styles and artistic approaches again makes for a rich menu of great but challenging contemporary music. We get to discuss spatialization, silence, recreating an imagined ancient musical language, the blurred lines between rock and classical music, extended techniques, deep listening, and the Buchla synthesizer.

Which composers wrote new rules, expanded the space for music, and crossed dividing lines?

The course features nine primary composers. The material begins with some introductory lectures I created and continues with video interviews (available for everyone but Charles Ives), articles, and some critical material. We then focus on three important pieces for each composer representing different aspects of their musical language. A trio of pieces gives a solid overview of their work and generates discussion on the many creative threads that make the composer unconventional.

I wanted to increase the level of student engagement as I developed this second music appreciation course. Current ideas about student learning encourage a steady stream of low level “tasks” that should be completed immediately after absorbing material. I created a “listening assessment” that asks each student to answer eight brief questions. They do this for all 27 pieces featured in the course and get full credit for completing the task. The questions ask simple facts about the music (length, instruments), and they require the students to list some descriptive adjectives and offer a short personal response.

Listening Assessment:

  1. List the performing forces used in this piece. What instruments are voices are used? What non-musical elements are included? Include what you think is most essential to the piece.
  2. How long is the piece?
    1. Under 10 minutes
    2. 10-30 minutes
    3. 30-40 minutes
    4. Longer than 60 minutes
    5. The length is variable (not specifically set from performance to performance)
  3. How would you describe the rhythmic language of this piece? Please check all options that apply:
    1. Fast
    2. Slow
    3. Mid tempo
    4. With an active pulse
    5. Without an active pulse
    6. Complex
    7. Simple
    8. Repetitive
    9. Constantly changing or evolving
  4. How would you describe the harmonic language of this piece? Please check all options that apply:
    1. Complex
    2. Simple
    3. Beautiful and consonant
    4. Harshly dissonant
    5. Moderately dissonant
    6. Organically unified
    7. Disjunctive or fragmented
    8. Familiar
    9. Abstract or unfamiliar
    10. Slow to change
    11. Actively changing
  5. Pick three to five good descriptive words for this piece. Avoid weak words or vague words like nice, attractive, good, and ugly. Find strong words that offer your unique and specific observations.
  6. What personal responses do you have to this piece? Offer a few sentences to describe your unique perspective. There is no right or wrong answer, but listen with attentive ears and offer meaningful insight. What emotions does the music elicit? What aspects of the music are most compelling? Least compelling?
  7. Was this an easy or difficult piece to listen to? Why? Get specific with reasons to support your answer.
  8. Offer one other thought in response to this piece. Possible items to address: What was most surprising or unusual? What moment moved you? What other artist or genre of music might you connect with this piece? If you had to convince a friend to listen to this piece, what might you say?

In this new course, I often ask the students for their opinions about the music, their opinions about the ideas of the composers, and then ask them to decide which of the three pieces are more compelling. While I often tell my first-year composition majors that they should be sponges and suspend judgment on important composers till further in their education, I encourage strong opinions in music appreciation courses. When the student has to offer a judgment-style opinion, they will listen more closely and seek out the ideas that support their argument. I make it clear that it is fine to dislike a piece of music, but they must know why and be able to support their opinion with detailed observation. I may gently push back on a poorly formed opinion, but I find that even a strong negative reaction paves the way for a growing appreciation of the music. That is my goal.

A good portion of the class embraces Cage’s ideas. Others dismiss the ideas as nonsense.

John Cage generates intense discussion. His ideas are easy to grasp and challenge presuppositions held by most people in the class. We begin with Living Room Music, which suggests that anything can be used to make music or serve as an instrument. (It’s also great fun.) We continue with Sonatas and Interludes and end with 4’33”. The discussion of silence, noise, and “what is music?” is exciting. A good portion of the class embraces Cage’s ideas and examines their own favorite music in a new light. Others dismiss the ideas as nonsense. I’m happy with this disagreement so long as everyone knows why they arrived at their conclusions.

I teach Meredith Monk and Pamela Z side by side. Their highly developed and unique vocal technique has shaped the fabric of their musical language. They are performing composers who embody their music with powerful visual and dramatic components. But their music is quite different: Pamela Z often uses technology and words as a jumping off point. Meredith Monk finds the meaning of words too limiting and wants to create beyond the cultural baggage found in words. We look at Hocket, Dolmen Music, and Songs of Ascension for Meredith Monk, and Bone Music, Gaijin, and Baggage Allowance for Pamela Z. YouTube offers great live performances that allow the students to absorb the important visual components of these pieces.

Morton Subotnick and his early work pioneering live composition with synthesizers resonates strongly with the students. Most of the students either embrace EDM (Electronic Dance Music) or some other music heavily dependent on electronics and looping. None of them know of Morton Subotnick’s work, and they quickly appreciate his essential innovations, which made all current mainstream electronic music possible. We listen to Silver Apples of the Moon, The Last Dream of the Beast, and watch excerpts from Jacob’s Room.

There will always be excellent composers and pieces that won’t find room in a semester-length class.

There will always be excellent composers and pieces that won’t find room in a semester-length class. For a final project, I require the students to create a short, NPR-style podcast featuring a composer not included in the main lessons. I recommend they consider Pauline Oliveros, Conlon Nancarrow, Harry Partch, John Coltrane, Joan La Barbara, Wendy Carlos, Alvin Lucier, Terry Riley, Ornette Coleman, Laurie Anderson, or John Zorn, among others. They can also seek permission for a composer of their own choosing. I only require that the composer chosen has a connection to North America and is someone who has worked primarily in the 20th or 21st century. The podcast format allows them to include musical excerpts, which require description and context.

When I talk to my colleagues about “Misfits and Geniuses”, their eyes light up. They each have their own ideas about which great artists could fit into such a class. The pairing of composers and styles is rich with possibilities, and it is exciting to revel in the work of artists who break rules and redefine the musical landscape.

 

Having Conversations About Diversity

Lately I’ve been asking myself how I feel, as a woman of color, about working in classical music, an industry that struggles with a long history of dismissiveness towards diverse voices. Music has been a driving force in my life since early childhood; the music world was a complicated environment in which to develop a sense of identity while also grappling with stereotypes as a music student and later as a working professional at leading arts organizations.

And yet with minority voices now speaking out more frequently and more forcefully about their experiences, it’s an empowering time to be thinking about ways to build a more inclusive music world. People across organizations large and small are willing to support change in the field, but straightforward solutions are hard to come by since diversity issues affect virtually every corner of the industry.

It’s clear that the classical music industry needs to discuss solutions more often, with more people of different perspectives.

Since the path forward isn’t going to come from the direction of any one person, it’s becoming clear that the classical music industry needs to discuss solutions more often, with more people of different perspectives. Here are some thoughts on engaging in this discussion in the workplace, among peers and creative partners, and elsewhere.

  1. Engage a cross-section of people on race and diversity in programming.

When topics and questions of diversity in programming come up at work, make a point to solicit opinions from women and people of color throughout the office, even if their specific field of work isn’t artistic programming. (If there aren’t any minorities in your office, review your hiring processes.) Studies show that most minorities who work in the arts are not in curatorial positions, so while we work to address that imbalance, we can still seek out a range of views by stepping out of our silos.

  1. Ask questions when you disagree.

I recently had a complicated conversation about diversity with an industry contact that ground to an awkward halt when we disagreed. I’ve also been in similar situations in which the other person responded, “Wow, that’s interesting. Can you tell me more?” Complicating conversations on these topics is a fear of being perceived as insensitive or ignorant, despite best intentions. But I appreciate someone taking the time to respectfully ask questions about differences in viewpoints. It creates a space where both parties can learn and engage more deeply.

  1. Be eager to get advice from experts.

Let’s say you want to program a concert of music from another part of the world on your music series. Assuming you’re not from there, be committed to seeking advice from or collaborating with people who are and can bring valuable perspective, authenticity, and richness to the program. No amount of research can replace this. On a related note…

  1. Seek opportunities to add more diverse perspectives to projects.

In the new music industry, there’s no end to opportunities to bring creative partnerships and collaborations into a project. For example, take notice if your creative team for a production is looking fairly homogenous, and consider bringing in someone with a different background.

  1. Inform yourself with podcasts, classes, and lectures.

Even if you’re not in contact with many minorities in your personal or professional circles, there are simple ways to stay plugged into the national conversation about the minority experience, like attending classes or lectures, which are offered at many colleges.

Podcasts are another easy way to listen to really intelligent people talk at length on important topics of gender and cultural equity. Two podcasts that I’m listening to right now and highly recommend are Code Switch from NPR, which talks about race, ethnicity and culture, and Still Processing, a pop culture podcast hosted by New York Times writers Jenna Wortham and Wesley Morris, who give super sharp and thoughtful commentary on the music and entertainment industry.

This is a short list of ideas drawn from my scope of experience in the industry. I’d love to hear what else you all are witnessing in the industry, and what ideas we can pull from these experiences to move our society and culture forward.

Tragedy and Inspiration

A course I’ve named “Tragedy and Inspiration” is my solution to drawing college students in to a challenging but powerful body of music. The course couples tragic events from modern history with great pieces of music written in response to those events. Reich’s Different Trains responds to the Holocaust and how trains were used to transport people to extermination camps in WWII. Corigliano’s Symphony No. 1 responds to the personal and collective loss experienced by the gay community during the AIDS epidemic. Libby Larsen’s Sifting Through the Ruins and John Adams’s On the Transmigration of Souls respond to the deaths suffered when the World Trade Center buildings were attacked and collapsed in 2001. Glass’s Koyaanisqatsi and John Luther Adams’s Inuksuit respond to the crisis of human activity impacting our environment to create life out of balance. The course covers the historical subject, the composers and their musical styles, and the specific pieces.

Artists have responded to tragic experiences for millennia.

To varying degrees, this body of music either serves to process personal grief experienced by the composer, memorialize those lost for those left living, or mark a protest and call for action. These pieces respond to a common darkness that resonates across the many dividing lines that separate people. The pain of death from war or violent world conflicts transcends our differences. All groups of people throughout history have experienced disease, poverty, bigotry, sexual violence, racial violence, and unnatural death, and artists have responded to these tragic experiences for millennia. These subjects also resonate strongly with undergraduates. They understand the violence, pain, and horror involved in an event like the bombing of Hiroshima and can easily make the leap to the abstract and highly difficult musical language of Penderecki’s Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima. We begin with news footage, mini-documentaries, and images surrounding the creation of the atomic bomb and the aftermath of the bombing in both Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Then we discuss the abstract language of extended techniques, tone clusters, noise, aleatory, graphic notation, and sonorism that make up the language of early Penderecki. Lastly, we dig into the music and explore how it responds to the event. (Note: Penderecki originally titled his composition 8’37” based on its length. After the premiere he renamed the piece Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima and claimed the piece was always written in response to the bombing of Hiroshima and only after the premiere did he fully understand that. While the renaming is controversial, I accept his explanation and include the piece in the course.)

Because the subject matter is so real and raw, it is easy to bring these undergraduates into a serious appreciation of difficult music. I ask a lot of questions and invite them to offer their own critique or evaluation. While these students are not equipped to offer profound critiques of these compositions, the requirement for written evaluation requires deeper listening. They must have an opinion on the success of the music and defend their positions. The course requires a lot of written responses, and all of the tests are essay tests. I require that students engage with the material with enough substance that they can craft well-written essays (or aspire to such heights). They also have two opportunities to present pieces of their choosing that fit the subject matter. They often bring music from popular genres (rap, rock, country, R&B, etc.), and I welcome the variety. Having music from multiple genres enriches the course and allows for interesting compare-and-contrast discussions.

Because the subject matter is so real and raw, it is easy to bring undergraduates into a serious appreciation of difficult music.

I begin the course with a screening of the first 26 minutes of the documentary A Strong Clear Vision that features Maya Lin and her work to create the Vietnam War Memorial. This remarkable story follows her experience entering a competition for the memorial while still a graduate student at Yale, winning, and defending the design through horrendous public criticism and bigotry. Ultimately, the design has become one of the most celebrated war memorials ever created, and it has had a profound impact on subsequent memorial designs. (The World Trade Center memorial is a prime example.) This is a great documentary and draws the students immediately into the substance of the course. The memorial has served thousands of Vietnam veterans in their grief and healing. She created the piece when she was only a few years older than the undergraduates in the class and stood by her strong vision against tremendous odds. It is an amazing example of the power of art in the face of tragedy.

Here is the content that comprises the rest of the course:

Module 1: War

  • Steve Reich: Different Trains
  • George Crumb: Black Angels: Thirteen Images from a Dark Land
  • Vietnam War Protest Music and Woodstock
    (This unit involves a collection of pieces including):

    • Richie Havens: “Freedom” (performed at Woodstock and based on African American song from slavery)
    • Jimmie Hendrix: “The Star Spangled Banner” (performed at Woodstock)
    • Country Joe and the Fish: “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag”
    • John Lennon: “Give Peace a Chance” and “Imagine”
    • Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young: “Ohio”
  • Krystof Penderecki’s Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima:

Module 2: Environmental Crisis

  • Philip Glass: Koyaanisqatsi
  • John Luther Adams: Inuksuit

Module 3: World Trade Center Attack

  • John Adams: On the Transmigration of Souls
  • Libby Larsen: Sifting Through the Ruins

Module 4: Social Justice

  • Gil Scott Heron and issues of inner city poverty and racism
    • “Whitey on the Moon”
    • “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”
    • “The Bottle”
    • “Home is Where the Hatred Is”
    • “Winter in America:
  • Frederic Rzewski: Attica and Coming Together, written in response to the Attica Prison Riots
  • John Corigliano: Symphony No. 1, written in response to the AIDS epidemic
  • Tonja Tajac: music written in response to violence against women, bigotry towards indigenous people, and environmental concerns
  • Jazz and the Civil Rights Movement
    • John Coltrane’s Alabama, written in response to the 1964 bombing of an Alabama church and Martin Luther King Jr.’s eulogy for the four dead Sunday School Girls
    • Charles Mingus’s The Fables of Faubus, written in response to the circumstances surrounding the integration of schools in Little Rock, Arkansas, in 1968
    • Billie Holiday’s famous performance of Abel Meerpol’s “Strange Fruit,” written about lynching in the south

Bonus

  • Kellogg on Kellogg: Dust Returns, written in response to the untimely death of the composer’s mother

This diverse and strong body of music allows discussion on a range of topics and the many artistic responses. We cover extended techniques, aleatory, spacialization, satire, spoken-word verses sung-word, amplification in classical music, film without narrative, site specific work, noise, chamber music versus symphonic music, classical instruments versus non-classical instruments, etc. We talk about pieces written in the moment compared to pieces written with the perspective of years. We compare Meerpol and Holiday’s searing depiction of racial violence in America (“Strange Fruit”) with Mingus’s absurd and satiric approach to school desegregation (The Fables of Faubus). We compare Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima with On the Transmigration of Souls. We explore what role art can take in healing from tragedy. All of this comes with a menu of great and diverse music. The majority of the course is music that the students likely would never have encountered outside of the class.

The course culminates with students creating their own piece of art in response to tragedy.

The course culminates with students creating their own piece of art in response to tragedy. They pick an event/subject that they resonate with (personal or historical) and create a response in an artistic medium of their choosing (film, poetry, music, painting). They write a self-evaluation in which they state their artistic intent, describe the process, and evaluate their own work. Because this is not a class for art majors, I am lenient about artistic success and focus on the self-evaluation and effort. Some of the projects are stunning as students dig deep and discover creative veins they did not know they possessed. The topics vary widely, and the students share their work in the final classes.

The bulk of the content is offered online. I utilize YouTube, Vimeo, Spotify, and archived web articles to create the content for the course. The students engage with the material through laptops or phones at their chosen time and location. The classroom is reserved for discussion and questions. We typically sit in a circle, and my student teacher suggested we routinely ask short questions that everyone answers with a word or two. This helps everyone in the room have a voice while sending a message that each voice should be heard. I always give a talk about respecting each other when approaching complex issues of racism, genocide, sexual violence, etc., but the conversation always has remained appropriate.

Teaching the class is rewarding and energizing. Many students tell me they will never listen to music the same way again, and they think about their own favorite music in a new light. We get to discuss some raw topics and investigate the power of art to heal, challenge, and memorialize. My greatest hope is that they have a lifelong invitation to seek deeper artistic experiences in their lives. Most of them will go on to have mainstream careers as engineers, business owners, or scientists (the three big majors at the University of Colorado). I want them to find room for art in their lives, and I treasure this brief opportunity to share some great music.

Making Connections: Helping Presenters Market Your Music

Say you’re a composer whose music is getting presented on a concert series that employs an in-house marketing team. You think, “Blessings! I finally don’t need to worry about concert promotion.” Not true! Just because a presenter has dedicated staff does not mean you’re off the hook. Administrators at traditional music institutions often struggle with promoting new music—how to convey to their audiences why this unknown piece by a composer they don’t recognize is compelling and intriguing and worth taking a risk on.

What I’ve noticed in my years of working at different music institutions is a distinct line drawn between the communications staff and the performers and composers. Generally speaking, there are a lot of middlemen in our industry: The director of an organization contacts the artist’s manager or publicist, who then get a response from the artist, and then that information (hopefully) makes its way back to the communications person.

Here’s the issue: If the communications person doesn’t have enough information to write compelling marketing copy about the new work on the program, s/he is likely going to focus on promoting another aspect of the concert instead. Suffice it to say, this is a huge missed opportunity for emerging composers.

It’s important to lean in—not step back—when you have a marketing team promoting your work. When you equip people with the right information, you empower them to use their resources to push your music out broadly to new audiences.

This is why it’s important to lean in—not step back—when you have a marketing team promoting a concert (or CD release, creative project, etc.) with your work on it. When you equip people with the right information, you empower them to use their resources to push your music out broadly to new audiences.

Bridging the Gap

The first step is simply to let the presenter know that you’re willing to work with their marketing team on promotion. I’d suggest reaching out to your contact at the organization, probably an artistic administrator, about two months before a concert (or earlier, if you’re in touch with them before). If the concert is arranged through the performer, have the performer introduce you before you jump in to offer help.

Once you’ve established contact, here’s what you can offer:

  • program notes
  • written interviews or videos in which you discuss the piece or your music in general
  • pictures related to the work
  • audio of the music
  • anything else that can be shared on the company’s website, via social media, in marketing blurbs and press releases, etc.

These materials can (and should) also be readily available on your website. The more content a marketing person can easily grab online without having to ask, the more likely s/he will push your materials out from the institution’s different platforms.

You can also offer to sit for a video interview, help with social media outreach, or answer a written Q&A interview for their blog. If marketing content is created (e.g., e-blasts, flyers, artwork), offer to send it out through your channels and suggest other networks that might be willing to give a shout out (e.g., the university you teach or studied at, ensembles you work closely with, a cultural society you’re part of).

[A word to the wise: There’s a fine line between being helpful and being overbearing. In all your interactions, remember to be respectful and let people do their jobs in the way they think is best. Writing the actual marketing copy for a marketing person or offering unsolicited feedback, for example, is ill advised. If you don’t like the marketing copy that’s written, try to let it go; if something is actually inaccurate or offensive to you in some way, then you should let someone know.]

It Begins with the Program Note

The composer’s program note is the first thing a marketing or PR person reads in order to quickly download what your piece is about. (Next, they read your bio, and then they read press to see how critics have described you.) Program notes help promoters figure out how to describe your piece, frame it in the context of the program, create fun marketing campaigns, and determine what angle to pitch to which press outlet.

Keep in mind that people are busy and don’t have a lot of time to get to know your catalog, or even listen to your work. You can make it easier for them by providing a program note that includes descriptive language they can use to write about your music.

Also, ask a friend to proof your program note to confirm it makes sense. Sometimes composers submit notes that are convoluted, vague, or overly technical—and administrators are not likely to come back with questions or suggested revisions because they don’t want to insult the composer.

What Marketing/PR Folks Want to Know

When marketers research your piece, they’re looking for details that might be compelling to audiences or journalists. Here are some things they’re keeping an eye out for, and what you can consider including in your program notes (or somewhere on your website or in an interview).

  • A narrative: Is there a story within the piece or behind how the piece came about, or is there a human interest angle involving yourself that explains why you wrote this piece?
  • Novelty factor: Are there any unusual/new techniques or instruments that you use?
  • Inspiration: Did you draw inspiration from something you saw, heard, read about, etc.?
  • Are there any themes in the music that are relevant to events happening today?
  • If you wrote the work specifically for this performer, is that somehow reflected in the music?
  • How is this piece in line with your musical identity/style [also: What is your style]? How is this piece different from other pieces you’ve written?

Here’s an example of a piece with multiple points of interest: Last fall, Sebastian Currier wrote a work called RE-FORMATION for the Minnesota Orchestra and Chorale. The Minnesota Orchestra had commissioned Sebastian to write a current-day version of Mendelssohn’s “Reformation” Symphony to mark the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. Sebastian responded with a piece that embedded fragments from Mendelssohn’s work, but also focused its attention on current environmental issues, which Sebastian felt mirrored the corruption and excesses that Martin Luther was battling five centuries ago.

There were a lot of angles to work with here: the Reformation anniversary narrative, the Mendelssohn inspiration, and the present-day environmental theme. To help explain all this, Sebastian wrote this program note, worked with filmmaker Michele Beck to create this video, and participated in this Q&A interview. We handed all this over to the Minnesota Orchestra, which then pushed the content out across multiple channels and were able to secure some superb press.

Being able to share this type of nuanced and specific information with the communications team leads to better-informed, more powerful messaging on the whole. The more we can open up channels between the communications people and the composers and performers, the stronger we can convey what music is being created today and what’s important to us as artists, and hopefully invite more curious people into the room.

New Approaches to Music Appreciation

My first classroom teaching gig was a music appreciation class at a Jewish Community Center on the outskirts of downtown Philadelphia. The JCC asked for an eight-week course based on the Philadelphia Orchestra concert schedule. For one hour a week, I stood in front of 50 retired adults and talked about music. I loved it, and I selfishly focused on the contemporary repertoire and began to find language to share my love of 20th-century concert music. This was important work. I had a special platform to proselytize the power of contemporary music and to help these non-musicians have a deeper experience when they went to the concert hall. It helped that my students were already ticket buyers for one of the world’s greatest orchestras. They sat with serious interest as we discussed John Corigliano, Claude Debussy, John Adams, Igor Stravinsky, Aaron Copland, and other master composers who found their way on to the orchestra’s calendar that season.

I am filled with joy as a young composer discovers some bit of music that will forever change the way he or she thinks about music.

Fast forward ten years and I am teaching composition majors at the University of Colorado in Boulder. My favorite class— “New Music Styles and Practices”—is a model composition course for undergraduates. We spend two weeks looking at the music of Stravinsky, and then the students are asked to write a piece in the style of Stravinsky. We go on to cover Bartók, Messiaen, Babbitt, Lutoslawski, micropolyphony, minimalism, American nationalism, aleatory, and a host of other composers/aesthetics. It is a semester of discovery for many of these second-year students who have not yet encountered the masterpieces of 20th and 21st-century concert music. I take special delight as they investigate Reich’s Different Trains or George Crumb’s Black Angels for the first time. In some cases, these modern masterpieces shatter the students’ limited aesthetic bubbles. New possibilities or modes of expression open before them like a hiker arriving at a grand vista. I am filled with joy as a young composer discovers some bit of music that will forever change the way he or she thinks about music. By the end of the semester most of the students are different composers. They have encountered brilliance and now savor the seductive invitation to seek new heights and aesthetics within their own music. Like a tour guide, I decide where we stop, which juicy stories get told, and what might be the best angle for a selfie. I am the curator for an exquisite body of music, and my audience is eager.

I paint a romantically rosy picture of teaching, but I think that is important. Teaching has highs and lows, and I need to constantly remind myself of the big picture ideals that put me in front of a class. My voice should convey a conviction that we are studying something important and that I am personally on fire for the subject. I fondly remember Daron Hagen saying that all music classes are essentially “music appreciation” classes. They help us dig into the core substance of musical brilliance and deepen our love of our chosen art form. At least that is how learning and teaching ought to work.

I hold a core belief that art is relational.

This same passion for teaching music to composition majors fuels my passion for talking to lay audiences. I hold a core belief that art is relational, as we share unique and poetic visions about the human experience. The artist has something important to offer that can nourish and elevate the soul. Life without art is pale. I embrace opportunities to share insight into the richly complex and abstract—but highly expressive—medium of art music. I hope to help build an audience for my own work. More importantly, I desire to elevate the listening experience of the average person so that there is a bit more room in their lives to engage art music with meaning and joy. The cynic in me scoffs at this naively optimistic view. But my optimism brings energy and clarity when I speak to audiences. It is a privilege and a responsibility to embrace these platforms and draw an audience towards great music—whether Beethoven or Monk or Reich or Zappa or Higdon.

After a few years of teaching music majors full-time at my university, I became a bit nostalgic for teaching contemporary music to non-musicians. I missed the delight and challenge of inviting a lay audience to engage with abstract art music. So I began to imagine a class for undergraduate non-music majors that focused on art music from the last 100 years. I wanted to provide a compelling and meaty class, filled with contemporary art music, for the average University of Colorado student who came to study engineering, business, or environmental design. I remembered that often an audience merely needs a great invitation into the heart of a piece before they are ready to drop any bias and listen with open ears.  With a good guide, even a contrarian or major skeptic can find meaning in music they once disliked. Over a few years I created two classes—“Tragedy and Inspiration” and “Misfits and Geniuses”—to fulfill my desire to bring art music to non-musicians. These courses have enriched my teaching menu beyond composition students and allow the regular delight of opening ears to music I love.

Hey Jealousy: Social Media’s Envy Effect

How many times have you posted a pic like the one above on social media, or seen one and rolled your eyes? Guilty as charged on both sides of the coin. So what’s that about, and why is it important?

Sometimes I can’t take your perfect life anymore. Logging into Facebook makes me want to vomit. Your exciting new job, the beautiful kids, the throwback Thursday photos of your beach wedding that I wasn’t invited to.

By Tamar Charney

It’s no secret that social media is basically just a highlight reel. In my case, yes, I’m playing great concerts at prestigious venues here and there, and I’m grateful. But that’s not my day-to-day reality. I’m also changing blow out diapers, dealing with toddler tantrums, making budgets, writing grants, and practicing scales. Also in reality, someone has hit my car twice in the last two months, and I have only a handful of gigs scheduled for this summer. That can be scary. Would I put that on social media? Not in a normal situation. Too scary, right? But I’m probably gonna share this article on social media, so I’ll let you know how that feels after the fact.

Here’s the deal. I’m creative, so I just started a record label and production company called Bright Shiny Things. It’s fun! I only have a few performance gigs this summer, but that means more time having fun with Bright Shiny Things. I will also have time to attend awesome stuff like Mark Rabideau’s 21cm Institute entrepreneurship program and the mind-blowingly good Silkroad Global Musician’s Workshop run by the undeniable multi-genre cellist Mike Block. Also, in reality, less gigs means more time with the family and wife. (Maybe I can learn to prevent blowout diapers?) Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy parenthood and business building as much anyone, but I don’t post that on social media because I feel like I need people to focus on what would be considered the “successes.” Social media is all about good news—a filtered view of how we want others to perceive us and how we want to be seen.

But back to the eye roll…what’s that mean? Sometimes it means we’re jealous.

I don’t think jealousy within an ensemble is something people are comfortable admitting to or talking about.

Why is that important to talk about in our art? I don’t think jealousy within an ensemble is something people are comfortable admitting to or talking about, but I’ve experienced this first hand, as have so many of us.

My colleagues in Sybarite5 are all great musicians, and they are also entrepreneurs. They have a lot of super legit performances and projects going on at all times, and rightfully so.

Violinist Sami Merdinian is in demand as a concert soloist in South America, performs often with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, and founded the New Docta International Music Festival in Argentina.

Sarah Whitney is no slouch either. She plays violin with the Seeing Double Duo, as well as in a trio project with fellow Sybarite5ers Angela and Laura called Trifecta, and she launched an interactive concert series called Beyond the Notes in the Boston area.

Angela Pickett, in addition to playing viola with Sybarite5 and the above-mentioned Trifecta, is in demand as a solo fiddle player in Broadway’s Tony award-winning Come From Away. She also posts beautifully curated vegan food pics on Instagram.

Laura Metcalf, our cellist, is also a soloist, as well as having a duet called Boyd Meets Girl with her husband and classical guitarist Rupert Boyd. She is a long-time member of the cello/percussion ensemble Break of Reality and just launched a pretty kick-ass concert series called Gather NYC.

The list goes on and on.

I have to be honest, when I found out about some of my colleagues’ projects on social media my initial reaction was probably tinged with some…jealousy! How dare they? Would this mess up Sybarite5? #JELLY #JELLY #JELLY. But now I’m just proud of their accomplishments. How did I get there?

First, I had to figure out what jealousy is about.

Jealousy is based in fear, not in love. A little bit of jealousy can indicate a little sense of threat or fear is occurring. A lot of jealousy means there is a lot of fear. … With jealousy often comes possessiveness, suspicion, anger, controlling acts and a lot of other negative behaviors.

YUCK, right? So, jealousy is based in fear, but if you read my first NewMusicBox post, you know that I’m not interested in having more fear in my life. So let’s unpack this a little.

It’s pretty obvious to me why I’d be jealous of the outside gigs the people in my own ensemble take on. It’s the fear of losing these great colleagues to other (better?) projects and the risk of damage to Sybarite5, something I’ve worked so long to create. Then how will I feed my kids? Any parent knows this is real and powerful fear.

But there is a solution to this: you have to confront your fear. For me that happened recently. We had our first sub with Sybarite5 in nine years. You know what? It was fine. The concert was fine. The residency was fine. It was more than fine! We had a great week, and I’m not afraid of it anymore. Poof. My fear is gone, and my jealousy along with it.

So now I’m happy to say that I’m not afraid to lose the above because of what someone else is doing. I will still be able to do my own thing, with Sybarite5 or otherwise. I have to have confidence in this. I created Sybarite5, and I can continue to create new things. It’s part of who I am. It’s never gonna stop. I like making stuff! So I don’t stress anymore if I see those posts on social media celebrating success because the jealousy is so unhelpful to the creative process.

So when you see this #thrilled2announce stuff posted, know a few things:

1. Objects in the mirror are not as large as they may appear.
2. While that person is probably mostly excited about whatever they are posting about, that person is probably also struggling with things in one way or another, perhaps just as much as you are.
3. You may be jealous, but you don’t have to be once you let go of your fear.

This is post four of four, so I want to give NewMusicBox a real thanks for allowing me to write. It’s been a great experience, and I think I learned a lot about what makes me tick. It’s my sincere hope that these articles help others find their own path a little quicker than I did.