Beginnings

You know that Seinfeld episode when Elaine’s conductor friend insists that everyone call him “Maestro”? Don’t feel too bad if you don’t, but…that’s exactly the kind of nose-in-the-air snootiness that Main Street associates with classical music. I’m an orchestral conductor, and I’ve spent my life feeling a bit, uh, embarrassed by the fusty, slightly out-of-touch image classical music still manages to conjure up in the minds of most. It doesn’t have to be that way. All we need is a little information flow.

Like most areas of human endeavor, music becomes far more fascinating and approachable (not to mention addictive) the more you know about it. Kind of like Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time. Sure, you’ve got it on your shelf – like a trophy – but have you read it? Come on, be honest… A little knowledge of relativity and string theory goes a long way when cracking the spine of that puppy. Same thing with music. If you go to a concert with no information, no conception of what this experience is about, one of two things could happen:

1) You could hear an amazing performance, recognize how amazing it is, and be hooked for life.

2) Something else could happen (confusion, boredom, sleepiness – come on, admit it, you’ve nodded off in a concert before!).

The truth is that scenario #1 doesn’t happen very often. Whether it’s because most performances are not amazing (I know, SACRILEGE!) is debatable, I suppose. However, let it be said – by me, at least – that an amazing performance is an absolute prerequisite for the kind of giddy schoolgirlish glee I suggest is possible when experiencing classical music. Amazing music played un-amazingly can be heartbreakingly annoying, if you know just how amazing (love that word, apparently…) it could be. And if you don’t know enough to be annoyed, well, that’s where the confusion, boredom, and sleepiness of scenario #2 come into the picture.

This blog aims to level the playing field a bit for those of you who didn’t graduate from Juilliard or have an epiphany while listening to Leonard Bernstein LP’s under your covers at age 5, shining a flashlight to read the back of that hilariously large, floppy insert. Those guys have already spent vast amounts of time amassing the information and life experiences that make classical music what it is for them.

And I’m not just talking about music theory and history here. I’ll also talk about things like the pecking order in orchestras and how much money they make. Consider it “office gossip”, if you will. I want to help you peek underneath the hood of the huge, monolithic beast that is classical music and give you some tools – tools that will hopefully allow you to access some of that giddiness and glee I promised above. Not to mention sadness, despair, pain, anguish, love, death, resurrection, and nirvana. The entire wealth of human experience is available to you. All you need is a phenomenal performance and some information.

And because I’m not just a conductor, but a soon-to-be second-time dad, husband, chocolate snob, inveterate home fixer-upper (my second calling, really), and “24” fanatic (even if the plot stays the same every season!), among other things, I’ll most likely be including posts that have nothing to do with music and/or conducting. I can only hope that you find these musings engaging as well.

So, without further ado, let the information flow begin!