The Trouble with Music

Musings on a career in music.

Once upon a time, my father was a professional civil engineer. My dad explained how he ended up in engineering. When he was in high school in the 1940’s, he worked on a construction crew during the summer. My dad had also seen how hard his older brother worked during the Great Depression, and had seen his brother go off to war, only to be killed just days before the war ended. When the time came to go to college, dad believed he needed to find a degree that would lead to a good job. One day, my dad’s supervisor advised him, “Don’t be one of “the guys who dig the holes, but one of the guys who tells the crew where to dig them,” in other words, be an engineer. He also pointed out that even when the economy was bad, the government “primed the pump” with construction projects, and there would likely be opportunities for engineers to find work. So, personal advice, potential job security, ability, and a work ethic led my dad into civil engineering. Then and now, arguably only a handful of college majors can lead a young person directly into a job. Because of his circumstances and what the country had just been through, my dad knew he could not pursue literature, art, or any of the other liberal arts. Even though he had played first chair trumpet in the band and had led a successful “big band” in high school, he did not consider majoring in music.

In 1973, I was interested in music and engineering, so I found a college that offered solid programs in both areas. After a year or so of trying to double major, I decided to pursue music rather than engineering. I did this for three main reasons. First, I wanted to set my own course and break away from my dad’s career path, even though I had been told numerous times by people who knew my abilities I would have made a good engineer. Second, I discovered I was known by everyone in the music department at my college and they counted on me to be active in the instrumental music program. I know from personal experience, it is important to be known and valued, to feel “at home,” as opposed to feeling like you are just another anonymous cog in a big machine. Third, I had discovered my passion for music and wanted to give it my best shot, as the saying goes. Fortunately, my mom, and especially my dad, supported my choice. My dad told me it didn’t matter what I majored in as long as I worked hard and did my best. I didn’t realize at the time the window of opportunity for college teaching careers in the arts would start to close in another decade or two. In fact, I didn’t need to think as realistically about job opportunities as my dad had 30 years before. I grew up in the relative “boom” period of the 50s and 60s (at least for certain demographics), so I had the luxury of not worrying too much about jobs in music vs. jobs in engineering. I was aware graduate school was in my future, but I liked music so much I welcomed further study. To make a long story short, I was fortunate to have a long career in college music teaching and freelance trumpet playing.

Just in case anyone thinks I “had it made” in some sort of golden era, I did work very hard. Even in times of relatively good opportunity, one must work hard just to have a chance of making a career in anything. It’s simply the cover charge you pay to open the door of opportunity. While it’s true there are hundreds of potential applicants for each college position now as opposed to only dozens then, getting a job was far from automatic. As an undergraduate, I practiced 2-3 hours every day in addition to rehearsing 6 days a week; I played first trumpet in 4 ensembles as well as in church on Sundays; I took private lessons every Saturday morning, and taught several students private lessons during the week; I listened to countless recordings, led the second jazz ensemble, and read everything I could about how the trumpet should be played. I earned a master’s degree and a doctorate and was nominated to Phi Beta Kappa based on my doctoral work. I also earned recommendations from influential professors and administrators. I applied the same enthusiasm to my career, trying to take on more than required and trying to be of service to my colleagues and my institution. Music, like any other career, is not a matter of earning a degree and resting on your laurels. And, like any other career, you can only get out of it what you put in. Simply checking off all the “requirements” won’t cut it. There will always be someone who practices or studies a little harder or takes advantage of an opportunity you missed.

None of what I’m about to say is intended to dampen the enthusiasm of young people who love music and might want to teach or remain involved in music as much as possible throughout their lives. I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge there are great rewards to teaching as well as performing, and I am very grateful for all the students I’ve worked with and all the playing opportunities I’ve had over the past 46 years. Higher education can be a wonderful career, if a person has the right preparation, opportunities, and temperament. It also helps if the person can focus on teaching along with their performing career rather than advancing their performing career at the expense of their teaching.

To the 17-22-year-olds who might read this, I advise caution in pursuing a career in music. You must determine whether you have “the right stuff.” You must not choose a career in music simply because you really liked your band, orchestra, or choir director, or because playing or singing is a lot of fun, or because you dream of being a professional musician, or even because your mom and dad have told you how “gifted” or “amazing” you are. These are not necessarily good reasons to pursue college music study, let alone a career as a performer.

Considering the number of job openings in performance each year, a student would need to be one of the very best in his or her state to have a chance at such a job, not to mention a chance of being admitted by one of the best music schools or conservatories. The likelihood of becoming a full-time conductor or composer is even smaller. And, one is not just competing only with their graduating class for jobs, but with perhaps a 20-year cohort of fine musicians. In short, the odds of a high school graduate becoming a full-time professional musician are not good. The numbers are much better for those who wish to become public-school educators, but with recent assaults on public education, this profession isn’t what it used to be. College teaching opportunities are shrinking as well because more and more students realize the inherent problem of investing a lot of money in a major with such a low probability of career success. Or maybe, like my father, they now understand they would be better off to choose a major with a stronger connection to the job market. This is not to say students should not take private lessons, play or sing in college groups, or take a few music classes. However, they would be better advised to consider their chances relative to their talent and willingness to work to develop it.

I had a Model T talent with a Rolls-Royce work ethic. I struggled to overcome initial playing problems. I was not a child prodigy, or a “natural” player in any sense. I have seen and worked with a few “natural” players, those with a Rolls-Royce talent, but unfortunately many of them didn’t even have a Model T work ethic. It’s much better to have both a high degree of talent and a strong work ethic, but for many people a strong work ethic can almost make up for a mediocre talent. Any prospective performer must ask the hard question, “am I willing to practice long hours to develop my talent?” If not, music performance is not a good choice. My wife is a fine pianist. From time-to-time someone tells her something like, “I’d give anything to play as well as you.” Her unspoken answer: “No, you wouldn’t. It took me thousands of hours to be able to play like this.” Some people just don’t want to put in the time it takes. Period.

Some players and singers do well in large groups but have a more difficult time with performance anxiety as the group gets smaller or when they’re called upon to be a soloist. It takes nerve to be a fine performer. I have a former student who is a wonderful lead player and soloist. One remark I have heard repeatedly about his performing ability is that he is “unflappable.” It is very difficult to throw him off his game. He has learned to channel his energy into a good performance rather than succumb to stage fright. If a musician cannot get past nervousness, cannot perform effectively under pressure, they must ask themselves if a career in performance is right for them. One need not be a soloist to suffer the negative effects of stage fright. First chair parts, orchestral playing, chamber music, opera and musical roles, and so on, all require performers to sit on “the hot seat,” so-to-speak. If a person constantly crumbles under pressure, many performance opportunities will remain closed. Enough said.

All serious music students must be able to take criticism. My undergraduate conducting professor told us to take advantage of constructive criticism, saying college will probably be the last time we would hear honest comments made to our faces. He pointed out after college, people will still critique us. “Orchestra members will make all kinds of snide comments about conductors behind their backs.” So, college is a good place to get open, helpful feedback from people who care about your development as a musician and potential artist. Unless you receive criticism and act on it to improve, you won’t make it to Carnegie Hall, or even a local orchestra or summer stock. In my experience, some professors are hard to please for a reason: they want you to survive and succeed after you graduate! If you have a thin skin, music is not for you. Also, if you can’t be a realistic critic of your own work, a life in the arts is not for you. You must neither overestimate nor underestimate your abilities – be observant and work hard to improve your weaknesses and perfect your strengths.

A musician must be committed to learning as much as they can about music. This means learning music theory and history, developing their ear, and listening to thousands of hours of music. This doesn’t mean they have to enjoy all aspects of music study, however. A famous jazz arranger once told a group of us, “Let’s face it. Theory can be a drag. But, ya gotta know it.” So, even if all the coursework one is required to put up with in music school isn’t always “fun,” at least it should be recognized as valuable. I hasten to add, if listening to music from different composers, eras, and styles is something a potential musician or teacher would rather not do, or if they need to be required to listen to music, attend recitals and concerts, or play in more than one ensemble, I submit music is not the career for them. I believe one must have or develop a passion for music that includes learning all they can without being compelled to do so. The best musicians I know and admire have done all they can to broaden their understanding and master their craft. If a young would-be musician can’t find the motivation to do likewise, I’d say they had better find another major.

The same thinking applies to music reading too. I’ve played numerous gigs that basically involved sight-reading or only one or two rehearsals. If you can’t learn music quickly, you’re not much use in the professional world. Too often, high school and college groups rehearse so much players and singers end up learning by mere repetition. Yet much of the work most musicians get requires rather instant competence; “ready musicianship,” some call it. Ample rehearsal time is a luxury not even the finest orchestras can afford. If you are not a good sight-reader, or at least a very quick learner, a career in music performance may not be for you.

If a player or singer wants to be a soloist, or perform leading roles in operas or musicals, the ability to memorize music is essential. Most world-class chamber groups memorize their repertoire as well. If you can’t memorize music, chances are you will not become a national or world-class performer. Even in regional groups, memorization is important to bridge the gap between the performers and the audience. Almost nothing stands in the way of audience communication as much as music stands full of printed scores.

Musicians today must be aware of and competent to perform in a wide variety of styles. If a young aspiring musician doesn’t like this or that style or can’t be bothered to learn different styles, their options will be limited. It’s fine to love orchestral music or opera, but you also better be prepared to play in a big band or sing in a Broadway musical, among many other possibilities. Versatility is very important, so if a young musician doesn’t have eclectic tastes, they may not get many opportunities to perform.

One way for young musicians to measure their ability is to participate in county, district, regional, and state bands and choirs, as well as solo and ensemble competitions, particularly those in which one can win a prize or become an official finalist. It’s not enough to take the word of your teacher, or your mom and dad. Of course, your mom and dad will complement you. If they don’t, either you have a serious talent deficiency, or they are trying to discourage you from pursuing a career in music. Nevertheless, an outsider, someone relatively impartial, might provide better feedback. Having some success as a paid musician in high school and college is also a good indicator. If you haven’t performed for money or been a church soloist in high school, this fact is telling you something.

Then there is the matter of being accepted into a good music school. My opinion on this may step on some toes, but here it is: If you can’t get into a top-tier program, or maybe a second-tier school at the very least, perhaps you should reconsider your choice of major. There is a reason Juilliard, Peabody, Eastman and several others are considered top-tier. These schools can reject 19 out of 20 applicants and their graduates can demonstrate international success. Competition is so intense for performers it makes sense to attend the best school you can find and be surrounded by other talented and dedicated young musicians. That said, it is not impossible to attend a small midwestern liberal arts university and still become a success in music performance. After all, a lot depends on a person’s talent and work ethic. But, like it or not, graduates of major conservatories and major university music schools have a head start. In music, you are known by the company you keep and the connections you have built. I have personally witnessed the advantage a Juilliard grad had over grads from schools like IU and Oberlin, even when they had earned more advanced degrees. So, especially in the arts, if you can’t get into a top program, select a major in which you can be selected for a top program.

And now a little secret: in my opinion 25-30% of the schools that offer performance degrees probably shouldn’t – they are offering that option only to maintain enrollment. Keep in mind, any school’s decision to admit you or not is also their opinion of your talent and preparation. It’s possible you might need to work harder and prepare better to “follow your dream,” and if so, you should do that and re-apply. On the other hand, it’s possible you are being told music should be your avocation, not your major. And, who knows, after more years of practice and study, you could prove even the mighty Juilliard wrong.

My overall point should be obvious. If young players or singers really want to be performers, they must be ready to do everything in their power to master their instrument and improve their knowledge and capabilities. If you must be constantly nagged about practicing, or “required” to go to recitals and concerts or listen to recordings, or if you would rather be any place other than a rehearsal, music theory class, or music history class, you must question your choice of major. There must be some course of study that will not be such a burden for you. Then, you can just play or sing for fun. Maybe you’ll catch a break, maybe you won’t, but with the right major you will be more likely to graduate with some marketable knowledge and skills.

Many years ago, I worked with an advisee who told me she didn’t feel motivated to practice or come to rehearsals. She also said she was having a hard time with her music classes. I asked her if she felt motivated to attend any class she was taking. She said she was taking “Introduction to Communication” and really felt like she was learning a lot. I told her the trick was to find a major that made you want to get up in the morning, one where you would work hard, but it wouldn’t feel like work. I advised her to speak with her Communication professor and get some feedback about her aptitude and information about what to expect in other courses. To make a long story short, she switched majors and came back at the end of the year to thank me for my advice. She said she felt at home in the Communication major, and work didn’t feel like work there. For many years, I have felt that way about music. Thousands of hours of practice, reading, writing, gigging, and teaching don’t seem like work when you have made the right choice.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about whether I would make the same choice if I were 18 again 45+ years after the fact. I can’t go back in time, but I can look at what I might decide in the light of current conditions. So, while I can’t have a “do-over,” I might be able to provide some guidance to those who might seek a career in music.

My initial response to the question, “would you do the same thing today?” is that I would be hesitant. I would ask myself about all the potential troubles listed above. I would take a hard look at my other talents, other job prospects, and some of the weaknesses in my makeup that have made music difficult for me over the years. For example, I have developed into a pretty good sight-reader, but my memorization ability is only mediocre. I have fought many battles with stage fright and lost more than I wish to think about. (These are reasons it was a better choice for me to become a teacher rather than a full-time performer.) I have a pretty good, but not exceptional, ear, and I have listened to and performed in a variety of styles. I have a strong work ethic and have overcome many physical limitations on the trumpet, enough to win a Performer’s Certificate and a Brass Solo Competition at IU. (These are reasons I’ve been a pretty good teacher.)

My level of interest in science is very close to my level of interest in music – so close as to make science practically interchangeable with music as a career option. Had I selected physics, engineering, or architecture, chances are I would have done well if I had managed to find the proper motivation. Based on what I now know about music teaching in higher education and the intense competition for positions, I would probably stick with a STEM field if I had to do everything again. In the end, my work ethic in music was not enough to make up for moderate talent and recurrent attacks of stage fright. I also believe the exploding number of underpaid adjunct instructors in higher education, especially in the arts, does not bode well for careers in college music teaching. It is likely by the time a current student earns a master’s degree and doctorate, say 8-10 years from now, job opportunities will have become so scarce they might deeply regret their choice. Many already do. The cost of college is also 7-8 times what it was when I went to school. It seems to me if a person is going to take on massive debt, they need to consider a major that will actually help them pay it back. So, unless a person is very gifted, with a great work ethic, and has no trouble memorizing music or playing in front of a crowd or a committee, it might be wise for them to stay away from music performance as a profession.

I know a lot of 18-year-olds have been told to “follow your dreams.” In my mind this is a phrase that sounds good but is exceptionally poor advice. Chris Rock told this anecdote about freshman orientation at his kid’s school: “People come up and speak and just lie to children. That’s all that happens all day is people come up and lie to children about the future. And I’m sitting there, and this lady comes up and goes, ‘I want you children to know you can be anything you wanna be. You can be absolutely anything you wanna be.’ I’m like, ‘Lady, why are you lying to these children?’ Maybe four of them could be anything they wanna be. But the other 2,000 better learn how to weld. Shit, I’m looking at these kids right now. I count at least 60 Uber drivers. They could be anything they wanna be…Shut the fuck up. Really? They could be anything they wanna be? Then how come you’re a vice principal? Was that the dream? Did you dress up like a vice principal when you was a kid? Put your little vice principal hat on? Tell the kids the truth. Tell the kids the fucking truth. Say, ‘Hey kids, check this out. Check this out. You can be anything you’re good at. As long as they’re hiring.’ And even then, it helps to know somebody.”

It’s important to do something “you’re good at,” something for which you have the talent and the motivation to work hard, something that doesn’t make hard work feel like work, and something that can pay your bills. I may have dreamt of being a movie star, a jet pilot, or a pro basketball player, but these are not what I was “good at.” I was good at physics. My college president friend and once upon a time college roommate, who holds a doctorate in electrical engineering, told me a few years ago, “physics came so easily to you.” We need to be realistic about what we are “good at.” Dreams are lovely, but we can’t all sing at the Met, dance at the Kennedy Center, or play in the trumpet section of the LA Philharmonic. A select few can. The rest can enjoy music along with what they are good at, which with any luck will pay their bills and make it possible for them to make music whenever they want to. I knew a cardiovascular surgeon who was also a fine jazz drummer in his off-hours. He told me he took up surgery to “support his music habit.” He was good at surgery. He was also good at drumming. Surgery paid his bills, but drumming wouldn’t. Hospitals were hiring. Jazz clubs, not so much. And he even knew a lot of guys. Yet, he still made music with his friends, played gigs, raised a family, and bought an outstanding collection of LPs with his surgeon’s paycheck.

Music can be a wonderful avocation. Einstein played the violin to relax. My friend played drums. I once taught a state senator who played trumpet. Many people who are doctors, lawyers, engineers, nurses, teachers, and so on during the week, play or sing on weekends. Most musicians do not earn a full-time living in music, but they love it dearly and wouldn’t think of giving it up. It seems to me they understand the trouble with music: It can take everything you’ve got and then some. I think it’s wise for people to know what they are getting into.