I\u2019ve had a number of questions in the olde mailbag the last few weeks. I\u2019m sorry to keep you waiting, but I do love hearing from you, so please keep them coming.<\/p>\n
Today, \u201cG\u201d asks-\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n
Hi Ken,<\/p>\n
I hope you don’t mind a question from an amateur and (even worse) a choir member.\u00a0 One thing that I’ve noticed through the years is that all too frequently the ‘peak performance’ ends up being the final rehearsal before the real performance.\u00a0 It’s so frustrating to receive accolades after a performance with the knowledge that they didn’t hear the very best performance that could have been.<\/p>\n
Is that ‘typical’ for the orchestras that you conduct?\u00a0 What do you do to make the performance the ‘peak’ performance?\u00a0<\/p>\n
We had an incredible rehearsal of Handel’s Messiah with the________ Symphony on Monday night, and an adequate performance last night.<\/p>\n
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Well, part of me wants to simply lie, and say that I\u2019ve never, ever conducted a concert that was not as good as the dress rehearsal.<\/p>\n
Unfortunately, what \u201cG\u201d describes is so common that I don\u2019t think anyone would believe me if I claimed that.<\/p>\n
Evgeny Mravinsky, the legendary conductor of the Lenningrad Philharmonic, was not a fan of concerts in his later years, and often turned them over to his assistants, preferring the intimacy and control of the rehearsal environment. In the EMI documentary about his life, a\u00a0 number of players talk about experiences in rehearsals that were so shattering, so overpowering that Mravinsky knew it could never be that good in the concert, so he simply didn\u2019t conduct the concert. On one level, it bothered the musicians that he abandoned them when they went before the public, but they also recognized that, like many geniuses, he had his quirks. On balance, I think they felt that it was their privilege to be a part of those moments in the rehearsals.<\/p>\n
I\u00a0couldn\u2019t imagine abandoning my colleagues in the orchestra for a concert, but then again, I\u2019m neither as old nor as famous as he was. However, I have many times had the feeling in a rehearsal that something so magical was happening that the concert could never equal it. Frankly, some music is more suited for an empty hall than a full one anyway- sometimes playing into a silent, empty space is ideal. Much as I always want the audience to experience our very best, I also recognize that these moments are our privilege as musicians.<\/p>\n
That said, I think most conductors try to save a little something in the rehearsals, and to not \u201cpush\u201d too hard in a dress rehearsal. Sometimes that works, sometimes it backfired. I used to assist a well-known conductor who had taken holding back in rehearsals way too far- the musicians loved him as a person and a performer, but the lack of energy in rehearsals was a very sore point. On the other hand, as we all know, sometimes, when you back off, you get more- whether it is playing or conducting. You can step back a bit in a Bruckner symphony then gradually realize that something momentous is building, and you have to decide whether to pop the balloon or not. Don\u2019t pop the balloon- chances are you\u2019ll just ruin the rehearsal and not help the concert.<\/p>\n
If a concert fails to take flight on the same metaphysical level as a rehearsal, that\u2019s one thing, and I can live with it. Frustrating as it is, if someone gets nervous, I can understand that too- we\u2019re all human. What makes me CRAZY, however, is when the level of basic concentration between rehearsal and concert falls off. The same thing often happens after opening night of an opera or on the middle performance of a 3 night subscription run. Everyone is so relieved to survive that first run-through that they just don\u2019t mentally prepare as well for the next one.\u00a0This may happen, but it shouldn’t, and\u00a0one should feel bad, and it’s not okay when it happens.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The other thing to remember is that you may not be the best judge of how your performance, or that of the entire group, is coming off. I recently came across this excellent blog post<\/a> from my fello CCM-er Alban Gerhardt, written after his performance in my home town of Madison.<\/p>\n
I just finished playing another Elgar performance in the very charming little city of Madison – I think it wasn\u2019t a bad performance, but somehow I didn\u2019t feel the closest of all connections with the audience; there was quite some coughing in the first minutes of the piece, and I guess it\u2019s my upbringing to look for the blame in myself. I didn\u2019t manage to engage them and draw them in with what I had to say with the music which resulted in the fact that they weren\u2019t quite with me.What can one do if one realizes that? Start throwing some antics at them? No way, bad idea, even though it might do the trick, but I tried to just give as much intensity and emotion as I could to make the coughers be silent, and maybe I am wrong, but I think it worked later on.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Alban seemed rather cross with himself that he wasn\u2019t able to create more of an atmosphere and dispel the coughs in the auditorium from the first note. I sympathize with the frustration at the coughing- I sometimes feel like I\u2019m conducting in a flu ward, and it does bother me. However, Alban seemed to feel that he\u2019d somehow not been able to connect to the\u00a0 audience, when the comments on that post show that he\u2019d made a profound impact on the audience and the musicians.<\/p>\n
I heard the Saturday performance. I admit I was not prepared for what I heard, because I\u2019ve never much liked the Elgar concerto (or much of Elgar\u2019s other orchestral music \u2014 it seems to meander so), and I\u2019d already heard it four times in the last two years. No, what I heard was something completely unexpected. The intensity of your performance brought the work into focus for me, and my attention was riveted throughout. You may have changed my opinion of the work.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Most of the time, thank goodness, I\u2019d say performances I\u2019m in go to another and better level than the rehearsals, and that everyone in the band recognizes that. However, if the concert doesn\u2019t exceed the rehearsal by orders of magnitude, I\u2019ll find that members of the orchestra are usually quite divided about which one was better. Likewise with multiple performances, although I would say that the first performance of three or four tends to always be remembered as the best. Often, I can go back to the recordings of a run and see that each concert got better. They get better because you learn so much from each performance, but the more you learn the more you expect. By the last performance, you know it so well and expect so much, that you might not enjoy it at all, BUT, it might sound amazing to the audience, so don\u2019t throw in the towel.<\/p>\n
In fact, it\u2019s important to remember to trust that the music is more powerful than your performance of it. A good piece of advice I got from older conductors early on was not to try to push every concert to be \u201cgreat,\u201d because pushing can cause people to make mistakes or simply strangle the music. I believe in the wisdom of that advice, but, like Alban, I often find myself giving it everything I\u2019ve got onstage then coming off feeling like it wasn\u2019t enough. To say that it\u2019s more important that the audience loved it than whether I did is too simple and neat.<\/p>\n
I think that at the end of the day, you have to accept that sometimes, your best work goes unheard by the public, and you have to live with the knowledge that only you and your colleagues experienced it, but also, that sometimes, you\u2019re not going to enjoy your own best performances at all. I vividly remember my second concert with the GRSO- we were doing Haydn 104, and I spent the whole performance mad at myself, the audience and the musicians. Things didn\u2019t sound in tune, didn\u2019t sound together, the balances felt wrong, the audience was coughing. By the end, I was in a FOUL mood, in spite of it being joyful music. As soon as the applause died off, my friend Ed, who was about the most cultured and knowledgeable musician in the orchestra, came knocking on my door- \u201cman- that was the best the orchestra has ever played!\u201d he said.\u00a0 Further conversations convinced me we’d had a little triumph, but one that I hadn’t enjoyed one bit- at least until people started telling me how great it was.<\/p>\n
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BTW- The review of Alban’s concert had one of the funniest headlines I’ve ever seen- “Cellist Alban Gerhardt finds the sadness with the Madison Symphony Orchestra<\/a>.”<\/span><\/p>\n