Those who know me are aware that I have a lot of strong opinions, some warranted and some not. Sometimes I know what needs to be said and other times I should probably keep my mouth shut.

I can think of no other area in my often bizarre and off-kilter life in which this has been more true than in my experiences as an amateur band director. Seven years ago I began an odyssey that has taken me in a direction I did not expect and to this day cannot believe or fully explain. It has been a wild ride, but I am happy - generally.

So, I wanted a place to rant and reflect, to gaze forward and look back, and to put into words all those crazy things that go through my head about music, teaching, learning, and life in general.

I want to clarify to myself where I have been and where I want to go; to share so much of what I have learned, and to find answers to so many questions I have; and to inspire anyone who will listen but also be honest and true to myself.

It is for these reasons and a thousand others that I am compelled to write.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

The End of Optimism Part 3 - Postlude

I never intended for this blog to cover such dark and unfortunate topics, but these are the things that I have needed to talk about.  In the hopes that I can finish this and move on to happier topics (let’s be honest, probably not – see the lack of optimism?) let’s conclude this conversation.

I brought up two very different stories.  Both contained happenings that I attribute to ambition, that wonderful and horrible thing that has led to man’s greatest triumphs and greatest failures.  It would seem that I believe all ambition is bad.  I don’t believe that for a second.  Ambition is the only reason I was able to build Pep Band to what it is today.  Ambition is the only reason I became an assistant conductor in Wind Symphony.  Ambition has largely driven my success in science as well.  I need to admit that I am not always a popular person because of this.

Those who have taken the time to get to know me and, far more importantly, have allowed themselves to fully understand me, know the striking difference between me as a leader and me as my inner self.  The simple truth of the matter is that I am a brutally fast thinking introvert with enough self-awareness to force myself to do what I must to accomplish what I wish to accomplish.   I am also tragically and hopelessly romantic and an absolutely fierce friend.  I am overly patient and too trusting of people all too often.  I am afraid of being let down, afraid of losing hope, and all too often afraid to let go.  On a deeply personal level, I am crippled by self-doubt and have put my heart out too many times to too many people and been hurt deeply as a result of it.  I find myself trying desperately to get what I want and understand what I need without being able to fully realize either.  This is my struggle.  This is why my optimism is being tested.  Suddenly I don’t sound like a very ambitious person anymore.

Yet I often am.

The trick is self-awareness.  I pride myself on being as self-aware as I am right now.  Every day I strive to understand what I’m doing and what I’m feeling, and every day I get better at controlling my ambitions, understanding the consequences of my actions, and understanding the effect I have on people around me.  It’s difficult to face oneself but so incredibly helpful.  I am proud at how far I’ve come and at the same time humbled by how far I have yet to go.  I will keep working on it and I will keep improving.  (Was that a hint of optimism?)  This is all I can ask of myself, and I understand that.

There are two things I want to reiterate:
1 – Self-awareness
2 – Understanding the effect you have on others.

If you remember these two things it is far easier to keep ambition in check.  No one can perfectly navigate the stream of ambition.  We all make mistakes and will continue to do so.  Be self-aware.  If you make a mistake, recognize what you’ve done, work to understand it and why you did it, and own up to it.  Look at what that mistake did to the people around you and if you hurt anyone, let them know you understand and are sorry.  Then be introspective (natural for the introverts among us).  Figure out what the lesson is and change yourself for the better.  Next time you’ll act differently.  Keep trying to improve.  If you still make a mistake, fix it and try again.  You will become a more forgiving person, a more caring person, and you should largely be happier with the person you are.  That’s a pretty amazing thing. 

This is how I have learned to control ambition.  One of my larger problems right now is that of patience.  I am not nearly as patient as I used to be.  I’ve simply been hurt too many times in fairly recent memory.  I am stuck in one of two positions.  Either I am overly patient because it’s easier than addressing the problem (remember that crippling self-doubt?) or I am too short on patience because I’m tired of fighting.  Both of these have caused their fair share of problems.  The later has made me seem far more reactive and difficult than I wish to be (In many ways it makes me seem far more ambitious than I actually am right now).  How do I even these two things out?  I wish I knew.  I’m going to keep working on it.

The well intentioned and observant reader may notice something rather remarkable about the flow of these three episodes on optimism.  Let me assure you that this was not in the slightest intentional – at least not on a conscience level - but rather should serve as a comfort to the reader that I am sincere in what I’m saying here.  Other than give some careful advice, the first part addressed what I saw as a problem and the effect it had on me.  The second part did much the same for a different set of circumstances.  This concluding part provides a lesson, but serves very much as a character study of myself.  This has been my way of addressing those two points I reiterated several paragraphs ago except that I am trying to understand the effect other people’s actions and my responses to them have had on me – in other words, I am trying to understand the effect I have had on myself.  I am trying to heal, thus I am addressing the cards dealt to me in the most self-aware way that I can.

It’s helping.  There’s a long way to go, but I feel like I’m on the right path.

I am optimistic.

Friday, November 15, 2013

The End of Optimism Part 2

It’s been a long time since July 9 when the first part of this particular conversation was written.  A lot has changed, but what is concerning is that so much hasn’t.  Let’s give a quick rundown.  We know I resigned from Pep Band.  That is a decision that was made on the night of July 9 although I chose to let the fates decide exactly how that would transpire.  I honestly think things are working out for the best.  Unfortunately, I still feel plagued by many of the things that were only alluded to in the first part of this.  This is incredibly frustrating.  No matter how hard I try, I can’t quite seem to figure some of this stuff out.  Very frustrating.  This is not a conversation for this blog.  Thank goodness.  So very much remains unsaid and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t quite bring myself to say it.  I will say that I am tired of being crippled by self-doubt and fear, but I’m going to leave it to that.

As things stand, not nearly enough has changed, so I am still struggling to be optimistic.  I’m trying, but generally it hasn’t been working.  With that in mind, let’s get back to the matter at hand.  I promised two stories.  Let’s get to the second one.  We were talking about ambition.

Today’s story involves the curious case of the student attempting to pursue a career in music performance.  A worthy and noble cause, I suppose.  This story has more to do with the general state of music education than it does this particular individual, but it’s an important case study nonetheless.  One that makes me lose hope in the future of music.  I am now nearly completely convinced that classical music (this includes jazz) is self-perpetuating its own demise from within the industry itself.

I have the unusual pleasure of being a professional musician (up to this point, I have been paid to conduct.  This makes me a professional in some sense.) who is within earshot of the Eastman School of Music and is more-or-less completely disconnected from it.  An interesting place to be, as it turns out.  I’ve also had the unfortunate opportunity to watch a very dear friend enroll at the school and attempt to complete a graduate degree.  Talk about the end of optimism.  Over three years I watched this friend change.  I saw bitterness increase, patience decrease, and ambition coming closer and closer to the forefront.  Devastating.  To watch a friend descend into this oblivion is the worst possible fate.  It has filled me with an almost inexorable sadness.  It’s just easier to no longer be optimistic.

Here’s what I see.  I see a school that teaches students that they are the best there is.  Enter ambition.  Furthermore, it teaches students that they are competing against their classmates and fellow professionals for the rest of their lives.  Beyond that still, it teaches students that their profession is dying.

Let’s just think about this for a minute.  You simultaneously tell your students they are the best ever in an ever shrinking job pool in which they need to fight against each other to succeed.  Furthermore, you tell them that they should be afraid of amateur musicians who are willing to do your job for far less money, or worse yet, for free.  This is a recipe that can only result in failure.

An environment has been created where the performers hate each other, and they are fully disconnected from their audience, and thus source of livelihood.  I now believe that classical music is dying because of this above all else.  You cannot disconnect yourself from your audience, and you cannot disconnect yourself from your fellow musicians.  Of course classical music is doomed if this is the case.  There is no hope for it while this attitude permeates the schools of higher learning for music.  Lincoln said that “a house divided against itself cannot stand.”  I believe classical music is locked in an epic civil war.  Not a traditional, two sided war, but rather a more nefarious, harder to define struggle in which individual players are pitted against each other, even when they get along.  It’s like a family who, deep down, doesn’t like each other but still tries to put on a happy face to the outside world and to each other.  Those on the outside can sense that something isn’t quite right, but it’s hard to put a finger on what exactly the problem is.  In the case of classical music, the net result is the disenfranchisement of the audience.  If the audience disappears, the money disappears, jobs disappear, and the internal fighting in the professional music community increases which in turn reduces the audience further.  It’s a vicious cycle.  This is what happens when you teach someone to be ambitious.  Ambition takes over and things go south.

How does this relate to the story I allude to?  Over the span of three years, I saw my best friend - that curious individual pursuing a career in music - fight these beliefs, but it’s not possible for one person to change the status quo at such a powerful institution.  It makes me incredibly sad that he succumbed to the atmosphere there.  I believe he still thinks he’s doing good, but I have lost faith that he actually is.  There’s a clarification that needs to be made here.  He was sent to Eastman by his previous mentor with a mission.  That mission was to single-handedly change the Eastman culture and quash this dog-eat-dog mentality.  He was destined to fail.  I will never forgive his mentor for doing this to him.  It was doomed from the start.  I had faith he could do it three years ago, but not anymore.  I now see the error that was made, but it’s far too late.  This friend was sent into a place where ambition is not only taught, but celebrated, after being given the ambitious task of trying to ‘correct’ the culture at the institution.  In hindsight, it seems all too inevitable that ambition would eventually drive further ambition. 

The end result is the loss of the best friend I have ever had and the recession of this friend further into the professional music culture.  How could I possibly understand the challenges he faces?  How could he possibly understand the challenges I face?  The answer is simple.  Communication.  All we have to do is sit down and talk.  I’ve reached out to him, but he doesn’t want to talk.  Ambition kills a friendship.

I give up.  I’m still broken and still sad.  I am out of optimism for today and probably for the foreseeable future.


DISCLAIMER HOORAY!:  This addresses a systemic problem that is by no means as black and white as I just made it.  Many seem to understand this problem – most notably The Cleveland Orchestra – and are working on it.  As with all things, the color is strictly gray.  I still believe the lessons here are valid.  Furthermore, I am not being kind to my friend, but let's recall this is called the end of optimism.  I suspect if he sees this he will not appreciate it at all, but I feel compelled to post this so it's off my mind - at least for a little while.  Perhaps I am the one being unfair.  Only a conversation between us will reveal something closer to truth.  I leave it in fate's capable hands.  Let everyone show their true colors.