The Psychology of an Emerging Composer (Part I)
Some performers have massive repertoires (For example, strings and piano). They are often encouraged by their teachers to play this repertoire, believing that their success is tied to it. Composers are often encouraged by their teachers to write for these traditional ensembles even though the teachers of these same performers, ironically, are often encouraging their students to avoid new music. Perhaps composers should focus more time on writing for instrumentalists that need more repertoire and perhaps as a result, want to play new music.
What follows is an all too common hypothetical …….
You have written a trio (piano, violin, and cello). It’s your best work to date. You are currently a graduate student at Generic State University. There is a concert pending and you are seeking performers to play your piece. You approach a cello player (sorry cellists, nothing personal) with apprehension and shame. You ask the cello player if he or she can play your piece. You have anticipated and now see the reluctance on his or her face. It’s subtle but you can read the imaginary cloud emanating from above his or her head. It reads, ‘Oh shucks…. Ok… Hmmm….’ They say, “How many rehearsals will it take?” A good performance of your piece requires around 6 or 7 rehearsals. Of course, to expect that many rehearsals would seem delusional. You are just hoping for around 3 rehearsals and a performance that reflects your intent. The cello player says that they will do one or two rehearsals. You gratefully say, “Yes, thank you so much.” You accept the one or two rehearsals and hope that it all works out in the end. You have spent months writing the piece and now you spend hours organizing the rehearsals, trying to coordinate everyone’s schedule.
All too often, this situation ends badly with a performance that leaves the composer both embarrassed and humiliated a unique combination with adverse results for the composer’s psyche. However, let us channel an alternate reality that isn’t so obvious.
What if they play your piece at the concert and it goes very well. The audience likes it and the performers love playing it. Your success and future performances of the piece are now a foregone conclusion……… Only… it never happens. The cello player, after performing your piece, remarks that it’s one of the best new pieces he or she has ever played, perhaps the best. The trio has future performance engagements. He or she talks about programming your piece……. But it never happens. Why?
We’ll get to that later.
But first, the psychology of being a composer.
What happens to a composer who is always apologizing for the piece he or she has written? A composer’s self worth is often under attack, performance after performance…. piece after piece. The composer has spent months, if not a year, investing their entire talent into a work, only to be meant with indifference and apathy. The piece doesn’t get enough rehearsals. In a worst case scenario, the performance reflects the lack of rehearsals and doesn’t reflect the composer’s intent. It’s witnessed by your piers and your family and friends. You are humiliated and embarrassed. But you trudge on… writing the next piece and hoping for things to change.
How does this affect your writing? Do you write more simple pieces to accommodate the lack of rehearsals you have come to expect? If so, how does this affect the state of composition when you multiply it by the number of composers who are experiencing the same? Does this encourage an educational environment where composers learn, not only form their successes, but their mistakes? Do composers feel empowered to take chances or resigned to playing it safe?
No one likes to be humiliated. Is it not understandable that a composer would perhaps alter the complexity of his or her music? Perhaps all they yearn for is a good performance… to not be humiliated in front of their piers, their friends, and family.
However, this is not entirely fair to performers. More of that in the next post.