The topic of my next book

Posted by Susan Tomes on 10 January 2016 under Books, Inspirations  •  1 Comment

Over the Christmas holidays I’ve been talking with friends and family about the topic of my next book. I’ve got some ideas of my own, but one night someone suggested to me that I could ‘crowd-source’ ideas from people who read my blog. If ‘crowd-source’ seems a little hyperbolic, let’s say ‘group-source’.

What would people like to read about? What topics do they wish I would address in my next book? What areas do they feel I haven’t covered yet, or haven’t explored in enough depth? Do they long for me to write about something other than music? I try to imagine people going up to the ‘new titles’ table in a bookshop, picking up my book and saying, ‘Oh good! I see that Susan Tomes has written a book on …..[fill in missing words].’

So if you have suggestions, I’d be glad to hear them. You don’t have to post a public comment on this website. You can email me privately at susan@susantomes.com

In the meantime, Happy New Year!

Who owns ‘perfection’ now?

Posted by Susan Tomes on 5 January 2016 under Concerts, Daily Life, Musings  •  4 Comments

It’s hard to keep up with changing perceptions in the world of music. We classical musicians are used to being the butt of complaints that our concerts are off-putting because of their focus on accuracy and daunting accomplishment. Unfortunately there’s no way round it, because you can’t do justice to this complex music without a high degree of technical prowess. First you have to ‘catch the rabbit’ of instrumental mastery.

For decades now, we’ve been repeatedly told that one of the main reasons for pop’s success is that – by contrast – anyone can have a go at it. You can pick up a guitar or a pair of drumsticks and quite quickly become competent enough to play the chords or rhythms that dominate a lot of pop music. You can play in a band after only a short apprenticeship (or even with no apprenticeship at all, as some celebrity careers have proven). And yes, that short training period has been empowering for many who like music and wanted to perform, but were never in a position to grapple with daily practice.

I’ve grown used to hearing that classical music is boringly perfect while pop music is ‘free’. So I was surprised to read about the Spanish group Hinds in today’s Guardian. ‘Pop is about perfection. We’re the opposite….We get messages from girls – and boys – in their rooms, listening to our songs and just being free. They feel they can do it, too. They see us and see that it’s OK not to be perfect.’

Sorry, what –  pop is about perfection now? People are relieved to see an indie band whose shows ‘fizz with the highwire sense that they could collapse at any moment’?

Perhaps classical musicians should feel liberated. The mantle of tedious perfectionism has been cast over someone else. Let them see how it feels! We never saw ourselves as grim perfectionists anyway, and perhaps now we really don’t need to.

Celebrity Silence

Posted by Susan Tomes on 14 December 2015 under Concerts, Musings  •  3 Comments

I have been haunted this week by articles about the New York collaboration between ‘performance artist’ Marina Abramovic and pianist Igor Levit. You can read all about it here. Basically, Marina Abramovic seeks to ‘get the audience into a different state of mind’ in preparation for a performance by Igor Levit of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. She summons people to relinquish their phones, watches, tablets, laptops and don noise-cancelling headphones while they sit silently for half an hour ‘in cloth deck chairs designed to Ms Abramovic’s specifications’ before the music begins. ‘They want to listen to Bach, so they have to suffer’, she comments drily.

I discussed this conceit with a few colleagues. We were all afraid it would be greeted rapturously by the very people who usually say they don’t go to classical concerts because they hate being told to sit still and keep quiet.

Most classical musicians crave an atmosphere of silence and concentration. To put it simply, the painstaking work involved in considering and perfecting every tiny musical nuance just isn’t worth it if the details aren’t heard. So with mind-over-matter and body language, performers try to create a powerful focus. In recent years, efforts to foster this have included asking the audience to stifle their coughs and turn off their phones. Some players have remonstrated with noisy audience members from the stage. Though some applaud them for doing so, others find them pompous.

The custom of sitting quietly and paying attention in classical concerts is the single most often-cited reason why the public resents them. I’ve lost count of the complaints about the ‘stuffy’ concert-hall and the ‘old-fashioned’ request to keep still and refrain from texting or tweeting. In fact, in the search for listeners, most musicians have desperately been trying to think of ways they can ‘loosen up’ this allegedly stuffy atmosphere – encouraging the audience to bring in drinks, dress down, move about.

So what are we to make of the fact that a celebrity performance artist is lionised for making the audience surrender their phones and watches and sit in enforced silence for half an hour? And how should we respond when a starry-eyed audience tells us the experience was revelatory?

Life with and without managers

Posted by Susan Tomes on 25 November 2015 under Concerts, Daily Life, Musings  •  Leave a comment

While baking a cake this morning, I listened to an excellent BBC Radio 4 programme, ‘The Joy of 9 to 5’, about managers. Presenter Lucy Kellaway investigated what managers actually do, and introduced us to some new approaches to management, emanating in particular from the United States.

Some American companies act on their belief that a happy and fulfilled person is more likely to make a good contribution at work. Therefore, some companies will pay for employees to learn a new hobby, such as how to play the guitar, or even how to fly a plane. The company might also pay for a family holiday to a special place a team member has always wanted to visit.

The programme pointed out that many people have little control over what happens at work, and are very conscious that their efforts go towards making someone else rich. Employees’ sense of boredom or imprisonment often leads them to put creative energy into flouting the rules or getting away with less work than they could be doing. It makes sense to tackle any potential alienation by giving team members a sense of control and influence, or by facilitating their non-work-related dreams, in the belief that (for example) an employee who’s just been to Morocco at the firm’s expense is more likely to work with a will and be nice to everyone when they get back. In a way you could say this approach is just another form of calculation about how to extract meaningful work from employees, but what a wonderfully constructive way to do it!

Lucy Kellaway ended by saying that she has always worked for conventional organisations and is willing to exchange autonomy for the pleasant knowledge of having no responsibility. She concluded that being managed by someone is actually better than being managed by everyone. I was struck by this because I’ve never worked for a conventional organisation. All my music groups were ‘managed by everyone’ in a very hit-and-miss way. We all had influence, but were sometimes not very wise about how to use it. Nobody ever brought modern American-style managerial principles to our lives or worked out how to get the best out of us. We all did actually give of our best, whenever we could. But this morning I found myself thinking that these new approaches to creating happy team members would be a great thing to experience.

Reaching out to new audiences

Posted by Susan Tomes on 13 November 2015 under Concerts, Musings  •  3 Comments

I’ve just finished reading James Rhodes’s book Instrumental. Nobody can put down the book without feeling intense sympathy for him and admiration for the way he’s turned his traumatic experiences into positive motivation for life as a concert pianist. No-one can doubt his love for the music he plays, or his skill in communicating his feelings about it.

All the same, I couldn’t help feeling stung by his many comments about the failure of classical music to reach out to new audiences. James writes extensively about how he blames classical musicians, promoters and agents for the fact that classical music remains a niche interest. He castigates them for not trying to do things differently, for being stuffy and stuck in patterns of the past, for not realising that today’s audiences need a new approach.

If it were as simple as that, I would have to put my hand up and say ‘Mea culpa’. But the fact is that I, and all my classical colleagues, have tried very hard to reach out to new audiences, and have been trying for years. I and my colleagues in Domus devoted several years of our lives during the 1980s to taking classical music in a tent to new audiences in unlikely places. Although our standard of performance was very high, we had almost no money, no grants, no opportunity for the modern exposure of mass media, no agent eager to exploit the possibilities we presented. Many classical musicians in the years since have played in schools, in universities, in community centres, art galleries, train station concourses, prisons, old people’s homes. We’ve experimented with different clothing styles. We’ve tried different seating plans and concerts of different lengths.

We’ve done crossover collaborations, pre-concert events, late night concerts. We have commissioned new music.  We have talked to our audiences. We have collaborated with young musicians. We have played for free. Every classical performer I know devotes time to ‘outreach work’, and we all know that it’s important.

It’s hard to analyse the situation. Today’s audiences for popular music, particularly young audiences, are highly attuned to image, personality, ‘human interest’ stories and the cult of celebrity as expressed on social media. James is a master of all this. If all classical musicians were to become skilled in these ways, would a mass audience for classical music miraculously appear? I doubt if it’s as simple as that.