Here Comes Treble: Making Sense Of It All
...Running an orchestra is very different from playing in one. It is a position requiring a huge number of managerial skills, which I was learning the hard way, mistake and success alike. Little of it came naturally to me...
Musician and writer Isabel Bradley tells of the organisational and emotional demands of running a small orchestra.
As sound poured from my flute, lungs, fingers and lips, eyes, body and mind co-ordinated and working effortlessly, my inner-self heaved a great sigh of satisfaction and relaxed. “Of course,” I felt rather than thought, “this is what life is, this is where the joy lies...”
For weeks I’d been bogged down with the minutiae of running the small orchestra, of which I was elected chairman a while ago.
A large portion of being chairman consisted of soothing people with prima-donna temperaments and unusual crises, such as, “Isabel – I lost my piccolo on Tuesday evening! I packed it up, put it in my bag as usual, went home, and went to bed for three days ‘cos I was so sick… when I went to get it out to practise for this afternoon’s concert it was gone! Do you know if anyone found it after I left?”
Later, further soothing was required when it was established that no-one had found the piccolo, and the conductor had informed her it was her own carelessness that lost the valuable musical instrument. Mediation of disagreements between musicians and between them and the conductor is a regular part of the job.
Each musician, to a greater or lesser degree, believes they are the most important member of the ensemble. They want rehearsal schedules to be altered for their sole benefit, a personal librarian to track down their lost sheet music, and as many compliments from as many people as possible.
There were all sorts of administrative matters to conquer, such as juggling the programme so that copyright wouldn’t be charged for the items we were performing, budgets to be drawn and re-drawn and then re-calculated and hall rentals to be agreed on and signed.
Protocol reared its ugly head: requiring a decision on whether or not the ladies in the orchestra should be permitted to add gold or silver accessories to their plain black outfits. Who took the banners home after the last concert and did they need ironing before using again? How much were the tickets to be sold for? Once that decision was made, the conductor insisted on a last-minute change of pricing which would be sure to get me into trouble with the committee.
Advertising and marketing the concerts was necessary and I agonised over what to do and where and how much to spend and what is the difference between advertising and marketing anyway? How to transport the three huge timpani from one venue to another?
With so much to think of and fret over, I became agitated and emotional. I was trying to keep my finger on the pulse of this rather small amateur orchestra, and was grateful it wasn’t a larger, professional organisation.
Running an orchestra is very different from playing in one. It is a position requiring a huge number of managerial skills, which I was learning the hard way, mistake and success alike. Little of it came naturally to me.
So it was that I somehow forgot the joy of music and the reason for my hard work. Each rehearsal was fraught with my having to make spur-of-the-moment decisions, resolve other people’s arguments and complaints. I lost focus.
By Wednesday afternoon, I was ready to resign from the orchestra entirely and crawl into a hole somewhere and hide. Worse than that, I was tempted to phone my pianist and cancel our appointment for a rehearsal of our demanding recital programme.
With the recital drawing near, however, we couldn’t afford to miss a chance to work together. Besides, I thought in sudden rebellion, the orchestra should not smother all other activities that I actually enjoy.
So Susan and I played together that afternoon and the physical, spiritual and emotional joy of the music soared through me. My sense of personal balance and purpose was restored.
The orchestra will remain a time-consuming task for the duration of my time as chairman. However, from now on, I won’t allow it to take over my inner life, to obliterate the meaning of the music.
Everyone has their own sense of that which creates meaning in their lives. For some, it is the creativity of writing, or the joy of being an efficient administrator, of helping others’ lives to run smoothly, the successful restoration of a motor-car engine, or baking a perfect cake.
Whatever your joy in life stems from, always hold it in your mind and your heart, never lose sight of it, and never cease to experience that joy as often as you can. That source of joy is what makes sense of it all!
Until next time…. ‘here comes Treble!’
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by Isabel Bradley
