I knew it would be hard to boil down that formative experience from the early 1970s into 500 words, but I gave it a shot. Thank heavens for David Foster Wallace, whose lead I followed when my draft text came in at 1,900. Excising about half of the text as footnotes made it a better read, but still long. So what, I thought, and sent it in. The published and shortened version is at http://admitopia.com/music-as-a-career-choice/.
However, in this spirit of this blog, I herewith present my final submitted and footnoted version, otherwise unedited. At least I've preserved the underlying recollections that bubbled to the surface as I put this together. The footnotes got jostled around in copying and pasting from the original "final" Word document, putting them all at the end of the text. Sorry about that, but at least they have been preserved.
TK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ O O O ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Music as a career choice
By Tom Klemens
Do you need a
college education to be a professional musician? Perhaps not, but nearly every
musician, professional or amateur, who
has impressed me over the years has built upon a foundation of classical training.
In many ways, undergoing the discipline of music school is to becoming a
professional musician like learning to read and write is to becoming a great
author.
Like any college education, studying music is as much about learning
how to continue growing and learning as it is about anything else.[1] And
because making music is such a participation-based activity, there is no
shortcut. No online curriculum will give you the equivalent experience upon
which to build. You simply have to put in your time. The key to making that
time – and your investment – worthwhile is to embed yourself in a high-quality
program and make sure you spend as much time as possible in the presence of
high-caliber musicians.
First, find a great
teacher
Even though it has been years since I earned money making
music, I still consider myself a musician and a great deal of that can be
attributed to my trombone teacher, Byron B. McCulloh.[2] In
addition to being the bass trombonist with the Pittsburgh Symphony and teaching
at Carnegie-Mellon
University
What I learned on my
own
Even though most of my professional life has been spent in
other fields, the music conservatory experience was a success because at CMU I
learned from my own experience as well as from others. Here are a few lessons
learned that have served me well over the years.
- Find your niche. There are a lot of people who hit the right notes and play or sing in tune, but if you’re considering being a professional musician, there’s probably something you do better than most of your peers. Identify that specialty and make the most of it. My wife, for example, is a fantastic accompanist. We’ve both known that for years, but it took a while to realize how unique that skill is. Similarly, a musician friend of ours is a very good vocalist, but her real strength – what sets her totally apart from her peers – is her choral conducting. She’s amazing, and she gets amazing results, but to her it’s second nature. Until someone pointed it out, she never realized how extraordinarily gifted she is in this area.
- Doggedly pursue quality. Do not ever settle for OK. If you realize you are settling for OK, change your major, perhaps to something like business or liberal arts.[4]
- Make
music with other fine musicians. Your best gets even better in the
presence of other highly skilled musicians. It’s like that snippet of
- Plan for other income. For the vast majority of people who make money as musicians, their income doesn’t all come from performing.[6] Many musicians teach music in public or private schools, or teach private lessons. I did both, and over the years my wife has built up a satisfying and lucrative private teaching practice. Others form bands, work in music stores, or take on any number of unrelated jobs to support their after-hours musical activities.[7]
- Take
advantage of your environment. If you’ve chosen an urban school like CMU,
be sure to take advantage of the cultural opportunities the city offers. While
in school in
- Question authority. Yes, you’re being instructed by esteemed faculty members, but they are human, too. Not everything each of them says is absolutely gospel truth. You are supposed to be using your brain while you’re in college to think things through, so spread your wings and ask questions. Develop your own interpretations.[8]
- Try out.[9] For reasons that made sense at the time, I took a pass on auditioning for the United States Marine Band. Several of our classmates landed that terrific, full-time gig, but by not even trying out, I’ll never know if I was good enough.
What I learned from
others
There is also plenty to be learned directly from others,
specifically the faculty. Here are a few tidbits that I have found useful.
- One for us, one for them. That great philosophy for putting together a concert program was provided by the CMU director of bands Richard Strange. The idea is to balance every avante garde piece that music students go crazy over with something – perhaps one of the better Sousa marches – that your parents – who are paying the bill and drove hundreds of miles to hear you play – will enjoy.
- Someone has to be in charge and it might as well be you. These words sum up the wisdom of Oleta Benn, the school’s grande dame of music education. Each year she greeted the incoming class by saying she had been “waiting for 26 years on this stool for you people,” then proceeded to instruct them on how to manage being the ones in control.
- Practice. Nobody else can do that for you. Many were the times that BB reminded me he was there to guide my path, not to listen to me practice.[10]
- Become a well-rounded person. Learn to do something besides play your horn.[11] You are capable of many things other than making music. Even though you’ve decided to devote the majority of you time and energy to studying music and practicing and perfecting your art, do some other stuff while you’re in college. It may be a long time before you again get the chance to take a class taught by an expert in pottery, or Greek mythology, or contemporary poetry. Exercise your brain[12], stretch your limits, dig deeper into whatever interests you, and enjoy your college career.
Tom Klemens taught public school music for four years
before enrolling at the University
of Pittsburgh
[1] The
years my classmates and I spent in the music conservatory program at Carnegie-Mellon University
[2] The CMU
faculty included a dozen or more members of the Pittsburgh Symphony including
BB, the bass trombone player. That in itself was a lesson. BB was a dwarf, just
slightly more than four feet tall, which meant that for him to reach the
farthest end of the trombone slide required a slide extension. Of course, by
the time I became his student, overcoming much of the strife in his life was
history. At the Eastman School of Music BB’s major had been composition, but he
also studied trombone with Emory Remington, who at that time was the best of
the best. At CMU, BB simply continued to practice his craft through his
playing, teaching and mentoring. The years we spent together in weekly lessons
left me a changed person because, far from being just trombone lessons, they
were lessons in living. [back]
[3] My wife,
who also majored in music at CMU, was similarly mentored by her organ professor
and other faculty. I believe we both were lucky in that regard. [back]
[4] And if
you can’t figure out what quality means in making music, that’s another reason
to change your major. [back]
[5] Of
course, the other thing to think about while you are in music school is that
these may be the best musical organizations you will ever be a part of, so
enjoy yourself! [back]
[6] Just as
it is with major league sports, only a precious few musicians make their entire
livelihood as center stage performers, and that’s OK. Performing, or
participating, as an avocation actually takes a lot of the pressure off and you
may be able to enjoy yourself more. [back]
[7] Charles
Ives is a good example. He sold insurance to make money so he could be a
composer after hours. You need to plan on alternative income sources, too,
because you’re likely rely on them. [back]
[8] Many
professors actually like it when you engage them on a rationale basis. I
innocently overlooked the last page of the first test in one of my electives –
cell biology, if you must know – and asked the professor to adjust my grade
accordingly. It was a learning experience because I was not used to challenging
authority, but also because he said to wait and see how the rest of the
semester went. He was right – I did just fine in the course, and he didn’t have
to grant that exception. Win-win. [back]
[9] All
modesty aside, I was a pretty good bass trombone player. BB was a great teacher
and I learned and I practiced. In my senior year I joined the Pittsburgh Local
of the musician’s union and played in pickup bands for a bunch of summer
concerts in the park as well as some big touring shows including the Ice
Capades (I’m dating myself with that, but you can Google it). But the market
was tight and openings for major positions were rare. I passed on the one real
opportunity that came up – auditioning for the U.S. Marine Band – and as a
result, I’ll never know if I was really good enough. Hence, this admonition:
try out! [back]
[10] It’s
true, you know, that old joke asking, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”
Practice, practice, practice! [back]
[11] This
idea was explicitly enunciated by Professor John Sandberg who taught “Culture
and the Schools,” a class required of everyone pursuing teaching certification
at CMU. He was a lifelong professional educator, and delighted in telling the
story of how he took a sabbatical one year to learn to make picture frames,
saying he wanted to learn to “really do
something.” [back]
[12] I had a
penchant for taking electives that were far outside those normally selected by
music majors. For one memorable philosophy class we spent the semester in a
very remote classroom discussing exactly how we knew what was reality. I swear
that class later served as a basis for “The Matrix.” [back]
