The Art of Selfishness: Part 1

It's almost two in the afternoon on a Monday at Manhattan's Mannes College the New School for Music, and I am in my normal spot on the couch in the fifth floor lounge. Orchestra rehearsal starts at two, and I am gathering my music, textbooks, and instrument and preparing to head down to what will be my last class of the day. As I struggle to get up from the broken-in spot I have occupied for the last 40 minutes, I overhear a few phrases pass between two nearby violinists. "Ugh, orchestra," says one as she adjusts her violin case strap on her shoulder. The other one replies, "Yeah, I know. I need to be practicing my Sibelius. Orchestra is a waste of my time. And my stand partner is terrible." 

I observed variations of this sentiment a hundred times from musicians who hailed from a score of different music schools. "I need to do something else. I need to use this time for something that benefits me the most. I...I...I..."

Now do not misunderstand me. I am certain that this person did actually need to work on her Sibelius, and had very good reasons for doing so. Violin professors at Mannes tend to be very demanding, and it is entirely possible that her stand partner was terrible, although unnecessarily putting people down is a practice in which most musicians at Mannes indulge.

The point that I am dancing around is this: music, by and large, is not about the individual. Does it take thousands of hours of individual practice? Of course. Are there soloists who make millions of dollars while reviewers sing their praises in newspapers, magazines, and online blogs? Indeed there are. Can an orchestra have a performance torpedoed by one person who does something terribly wrong? Absolutely. But everyone who thinks that music, in practice and performance, is all about the individual is just plain wrong. Yet, musicians can be some of the most incredibly selfish people.

We live in a culture that elevates personal accomplishments and often praises selfish people, and subsequently wonders why they act selfishly. We praise Tennessee Titans running back Chris Johnson for becoming only the sixth running back in NFL history to rush for 2,000 yards in a season. This personal accomplishment won him all manners of accolades and attention, but did not do much for his team as Tennessee missed the playoffs. Why, then, are we surprised when the same Chris Johnson holds out for a huge contract in excess of 90 million dollars, missing team practices and training camps in the process? We elevate him for his personal accomplishments but are then surprised when he puts himself on a pedestal above his teammates with smaller contracts. This has become a common situation. We feed the ego of someone who is talented, and then wonder why he turns out to be a selfish jerk. 

As a bass trombonist, I often have a lot of time on my hands during rehearsals to observe other musicians. This attitude of selfishness runs rampant throughout strings, woodwind, and brass sections. In the brass section, we would often joke about how selfish the string players were because they would not prepare their music. Many of the violinists and cellists made their disgust with orchestra very apparent. This often would result in the conductor spending extra time rehearsing with them. This led to intense frustration because it took time away from working with the whole orchestra on what he wanted to express. But this was hypocritical because the brass section was frequently selfish by overplaying to ridiculous levels and destroying the balance within the orchestra. I have talked to musicians from many schools and orchestras around the nation, and it seems that every place suffers from the same issues. Everyone is guilty of this selfish attitude. 

Now before anyone sends me a pointed Facebook message about how wanting to follow a non-orchestra career path doesn't make a person selfish, let me say that I completely agree. I am not completely sold on the orchestra way of life myself. Some people just are not meant to be in orchestra. Some people are meant to to be chamber musicians, and some are meant to be soloists. Even among the members of the wonderful MasterWorks office, we have two fantastically talented cellists with two very different callings. One loves orchestral playing, and the other loves chamber music. However, no matter the forum, selfishness is everywhere. String quartets and brass quintets crumble because one member decides that the desires of one person should be more important than the good of the ensemble. Some soloists view other musicians as sub-par scum and make ridiculous demands of orchestras and concert halls. 

Selfishness, no matter the career or the forum, boils down to one thing: forgetting the audience. Obviously, as Christians, our ultimate audience is God, and our main purpose is glorifying Him, but I'll get to that later...

In any industry, the audience or consumer is the most important element of the equation. If Adidas makes the best basketball shoe, but no one buys it, the shoe is worthless. Thus, Adidas spends hundreds of millions of dollars to have athletes like Chicago Bulls point guard Derrick Rose design and endorse the shoe. This pulls in hundreds of thousands of customers to great effect. This system has been proven to work, as Adidas' Derrick Rose shoes were the second best-selling athlete-endorsed basketball shoe last year. But this only works if they are pulling in customers to buy the shoe. And if the shoe is poor quality, the manufacturer loses face and, ultimately, money. 

But what about a performing arts setting? ...Next week I'll wrap this up with more about our responsibility to our audience and Creator as musicians. Please comment or message me with your thoughts and opinions about what I have written.