Archive for category Music

Beginner Mind

I overheard somewhere this last week a martial arts instructor commenting about keeping the “beginner mind,” or as musicians might know it, “practice your fundamentals.”  It made me think about some of the things I’m doing right now, and puts a little perspective on life as a professional.  Professional anything, really.

I’ve long said that we in the Western world need to reevaluate our interpretation of the word amateur.  To say someone is an amateur musician is to imply the quality of their playing, but not the reason or inspiration for playing in the first place.  The word “amateur” says something else entirely.  The root of it is Latin for love, implying that an amateur is someone who does whatever it is because they love it.

As a professional musician, I remind myself constantly to enjoy what I do, even if the gig is rough or doesn’t pay well.  I’ve certainly been on gigs and played with people who clearly do not love what they do anymore, and seem hell-bent on sharing that lack of love with anyone and everyone who will listen.  But I choose to remain positive, and it’s not just sunshine and rainbows: it’s a matter of practicality too.  I play better, feel better, and get more gigs when I enjoy what I do.  It just comes through.

One of the things that struck me about the term “beginner mind” though was the idea of mistakes.  As a professional I’m not supposed to make them.  Even though my very new day job is in software development, I’m a professional there too, and I’m supposed to operate on that professional no-mistakes level.  The thing is though, programming has always been fun, like doing crossword puzzles or playing chess.  And like any game, you can’t not make mistakes; you just have to not get stuck by them.  Same as in music.

And that’s what I guess beginner mind is: you’d never get mad a kid for making mistakes, because kids tend to learn very quickly from their mistakes.  Don’t forget to learn from your mistakes.  And that means you have to let yourself make them

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Avuncular

One of my fellow grad students emailed me the other day asking for job-seeking advice.  I’ve been banging around the adjunct world since 2006, and held a full time teaching job in there as well, have worked summer programs, developed a private studio…  I’m living “the life” as far as some musicians see it.

However, as I see it this lifestyle sucks.  And here’s why: I used to work in computers, and aside from the generous paycheck, the regular and predictable hours provided enormous peace of mind.  Granted, I worked my butt off when I was in software, but I had every weekend free, my evenings were my own to go see concerts, practice, cook good food, sit on the couch with my girl and watch lousy movies, etc.  I didn’t have to manage every minute of every day.

And I do now.  It’s Sunday morning and I’ve already written another section of my dissertation project, formatted several others, responded to several professional emails.  And I need to re-write the assignment I’m going to give out for my class tomorrow and grade the assignment I handed out last week.  On top of that I have a recording session this afternoon, and a rehearsal with my accompanist.

This is my weekend.  And it’s like the weekend of so many other grad students and young professors.  We work because we’re excited about the work, because we want to climb the ladder, because we are the low man on the totem pole.  The problem is that 10 years ago, 20 years ago, the job prospects were better.  At the moment, my cohort is working its collective butt off while tenured professors refuse to retire while trying to recover from the economic slump, and universities tighten their belts and reduce full time jobs.  We do all this work with the expectation that we’ll make a living at this someday.

Don’t get me wrong, I love music, and I love the things I do.  And I feel fortunate to be able to make a living doing my thing.  But I’m tired of always being on.  I know there’s a better, easier, more satisfying way to live.

So when a fellow grad-student asks me for advice on how to do what I’m doing, I have to restrain myself from shouting, “DON’T!”  And after that urge passes, I still want to tell him to get out while he can.

The only way I can think of to properly address the topic is to format it like an open letter to every aspiring music-academic:

Dear Future College Music Professor/Performer:

You’ve embarked on a path to learning, performance, teaching, research, and service.  You get the unique opportunity to mold the minds of the next generation of professionals, advocates, and enthusiasts.  Your contributions will shape the future.  But your training, degrees, and expectations have woefully prepared you for the job market of today.  Your education does not even address the job market of tomorrow.

When you finish your formal education, if “the life” doesn’t happen easily, quickly, go do something else.  Work regular hours, earn a steady paycheck, pay your bills, eat healthy meals and have friends outside of music.  Maybe it will seem weird, and maybe it won’t even be permanent.  But it will change you, it will make a difference.

And don’t play the starving artist card.  You’re not waiting tables, just waiting for your big break.  You’re waiting tables, just like everyone else waits tables.  Own it, love it, live it.

And for goodness sake, don’t work for free.  We’re so trained as musicians to play for the university for free that we forget to attach value to the things we do.  Don’t sell out for nothing.  You’re working that job at the mall to pay bills, so make music to pay bills.  Think of yourself as a business, You Inc., and you’re the CEO.  What is your mission?  How are you going to get there?  Where are you putting your resources? How are you making your money work for you?

After several years of working outside of music you may be happy.  You Inc. is making a profit, is stable for the time being, can afford to daydream.  If so, that’s the point.  Then again, you may sense this growing need to go back to school, to get back into music.  If the music is louder than the paycheck, then go with my blessings.  But for goodness sake, don’t forsake a paycheck in the name of art.  You can have both if you put your mind to it.

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Something to Say

I had a conversation a few days ago with some dear friends, friends I met while working at a summer camp.  My one friend is nearing completion of her Masters degree, and at the ripe old age of 23 is wondering what to do with her life.  She mentioned the possibility of getting a doctorate, but I recommended making some hard, messy, delicious mistakes with her life.  You know, get a job making rugs in a commune in New Mexico, meet and date a painter named Raul, and get a tattoo espousing her love for figs.  All the sorts of things that make for great stories after you get over your embarrassment.

No, I have not done any of those things, though I do love figs.

Some years ago, when I was living in Cincinnati, my roommate George was finishing his Masters and we had a similar conversation.  But he wasn’t interested in a doctorate, only in where he should go next to further his education.  George made a very astute observation: he said, “You do a doctorate when you have something to say.”  A doctorate is about having something to share with the world, and needing the support a university can provide.  Because he knew he didn’t want that, he chose an alternate route, and has had great success.

I meet plenty of folks in the classical/academic music world who look at a doctorate as the next logical step after earning a masters.  I’m not one of those folks.  It’s not because I don’t believe in the degrees, but because I believe more in the power of experience.  The university experience is often so guided that it stops resembling the groping-around-in-the-dark that frequently is life in the real world.  The degrees provide a great experience, great learning opportunities, but I think George hit the nail on the head.  That’s not what the terminal degree really is; it’s shelter so you can craft your ideas, hone them into a message, and get that message out there.

I have had the good fortune of taking several years in between my degrees; as a programmer, then as a college teacher.  Those years were every bit as instructional as my time in college.  But in a way, they were more important because it’s as a programmer that I learned time management.  It was as a teacher that I questioned the materials and techniques I had been taught and developed my own.  It is through my extracurricular experience that my curricular experience has gotten its flavor.

And as I sit hacking away on my doctoral document I am glad I have something to say in its pages.  I don’t know where my next step will take me; maybe out of academia altogether.  But truly having something to say, and being given the time and guidance to say it has been priceless to me.

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Formal Education

It’s been about a year since I began my “formal” education in arts and non-profit management and I’ve learned a lot.  A lot of my classes have been fun and enlightening and my teachers the sort of people I want to work with or for.  But the things I’ve learned have by and large not been what I thought I would learn, and not from the places I expected.

UNCG does not offer an arts administration degree or even a focus.  As some of my readers know, I’m currently finishing my doctorate in music at UNCG, but it struck me one day that I needed to go into arts administration.  In part because I was seeing so many people do it wrong, and in part because I know that I’ll be good at it.  I believe I’ll be more than good, in fact.  But back to the problem of UNCG not having an arts administration degree: I got creative and talked to people around campus and discovered resources no one in the music school knew about.  There is coursework and a certificate in non-profit management through the political science department, entrepreneurship classes, the MBA program, plenty of stuff to work with in crafting a minor that addressed my interest.

A year after drawing up my plans (and revising them when new information comes to light) I have some observations about arts administration that seem obvious now, but did not occur to me when I saw the world only as a performer:

Observation Number 1) There is no right way to do it.  There is no text book.  There are no instructions.  You are given a mission statement, a problem, some resources, and you have to figure it out.

Observation Number 2) Coursework and academia are not a substitute for experience.  The coursework I’ve taken helps me understand the problem, but it doesn’t give me tools to tackle all of them.  And keep in mind, I constructed my coursework after thoughtful consideration of what I will need (based on asking people who DO the job) and from multiple departments and sources.  I am suspicious of Arts Administration degree programs because if they are anything like degree programs I’ve been in, there’s a lot of fat in the degree, and not a lot of thoughtful planning.

I had an instructor in one of my classes (actually she was in charge of the non-profit program) who had lots of degrees, lots of ego, and little experience or practicality.  I discovered that I could fake my way through assignments, not do what was asked, and still get high marks.  As a teacher myself, I caught myself sliding into bad behavior and self-corrected.  However, in the real world you’re either competent or incompetent.    When I discussed some concerns with her, it became apparent that she was of the latter kind, and I dropped the class.  It was the first class I’ve ever dropped, and she’s in charge of the program.  Titles and degrees don’t make for experience.

Observation Number 3) There are two categories of people who end up in Arts Administration; those who go into it from other careers because they feel a passion to do the job, and those who sort of “end up” in it because it was what was available.  I tend to be passionate about whatever it is I’m doing, but I am also an opportunist so I can identify with both groups.  However, I have worked with people (personnel managers, marketing directors, etc) in the arts who clearly fell into the job and just like the title and income.  Having worked with aspiring performers all summer, many of them were naively surprised to discover that I am a musician, and have no concept of making a living other than playing.  Many of them will be disappointed to learn that playing jobs are few and far between and will end up in administration somewhere, if in music at all.  I sincerely hope they learn passion for the job or get out.  It’s not a high salary field, so if you don’t like what you do you’re in for a lean and unhappy career.  If you discover passion for the job, you can have a full and happy career with the same paycheck.

Observation Number 4) Most of my learning has come from deciding to learn.  Now that I’m paying attention to arts administration, I find I can take lessons from anyone or anywhere.  Lessons aren’t limited to books or coursework.  I feel so much wiser about the world just from seeing in from a new viewpoint.  It’s the same world, and I have the same “job” as before, just new eyes.

I mentioned that I am suspicious of degrees in arts administration, but I don’t want that to mean I don’t think they are a good idea.  Just know that learning is a process.  Completing a degree is not the same as completing an education.  Never stop learning.

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The Music Notation Show-Down

As a teacher of music technology, I try to not teach the tool, but the concept.  An important tool for any musician is a notation engine.  There are two major players in the music notation market: Finale and Sibelius.  Over the years both have developed into feature-rich, stable programs.  There are a few different points of view about which one is best.  I am not going to throw more wood on that fire though.

Read the rest of this entry »

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Motion is Everything

The title of this post are from a sign hung from the wall of my teacher, Dennis AsKew.  It states unequivocally the purpose of music and musicians.  Move yourself, move your audience.  I suppose I could go on for a long while about how deceptively simple those words are, and how hard they are to live up to.  But after years of living as a musician, I don’t feel I have to.

Instead, I think I’ll muse on those words in other aspects of life.  Read the rest of this entry »

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