The following contains excerpts from the book, The Art of Possibility (Benjamin Zander).
At our music school in Odessa, Texas we believe that music is much more than sound, rather, it is relationships. The subject of relationships envelops the understanding of Leadership. Relationships, leadership and community are enhanced and even defined by music and the arts.
“Historically, artists have been employed by leading institutions to bring emotional truth to established principles. Yet in our new global society, not institution has the wide acceptance to create values and direction for the majority of people. Markets in free societies are rapidly replacing governments and religious institutions as regulators of the highest authority, and markets perform without values…revolutionary shifts in the operational structures of our world seem to call for new definitions of who we are and what we are here for.”
Being a Contribution
Zander tells a story, “Strolling along the edge of the sea, a man catches sight of a young woman who appears to be engaged in a ritual dance. She stoops down, then straightens to her full height, casting her arm out in an arc. Drawing closer, he sees that the beach around her is litter with starfish, and she is throwing them one by one into the sea. He lightly mocks her: ‘There are stranded starfish as far as the eye can see, for miles up the beach. What difference can saving a few of them possibly make?’ Smiling, she bends down and once more tosses a starfish out over the water, saying serenely, “It certainly makes a difference to this one.”
“The story…reveals nothing about the ‘success’ or ‘failure’ of the rescue mission…all we hear is that the young woman was smiling and serene. Absent are the familiar measurements of progress. Instead, life is revealed as a place to contribute and we as contributors. Not because we have done a measurable amount of good, but because that is the story we tell.”
By way of his own personal testimony, Zander states, “The drive to be successful and the fear of failure are, like the head and tail of a coin, inseparably linked. They goaded me on to unusual efforts and caused me, and those around me, considerable suffering. Of course, the surprising thing was that my increasing success did little to lessen the tension…I settled on a game called I am a contribution. Unlike success and failure, contribution has no other side. It is not arrived at by comparison. All at once I found that the fearful question, ‘Is it enough?’ and the even more fearful question, ‘Am I loved for who I am, or for what I have accomplished?’ could both be replaced by the joyful question, ‘How will I be a contribution today?’…I constantly judged myself by what I believed to be other people’s standards. Nothing was ever quite good enough. When I began playing the game of contribution, on the other hand, I found there was no better orchestra than the one I was conducting, no better person to be with than the one I was with; in fact, there was no ‘better.’ In the game of contribution you wake up each day and bask in the notion that you are a gift to others.”
At our music school in Odessa, Texas we understand the value of competition in a certain way. However, we believe music and the arts function, in their truest form, on a different plain. Instead of competing, they are completing. In other words, unity and cooperation are sought above comparison and competition.
Leading from Any Chair
Zander admits that the role of a professional symphony conductor may be one of the last bastions of totalitarianism in the civilized world. “This kind of domination of the orchestra by the conductor- widespread, if not the norm, fifty years ago- is less common today. But vanity and tyranny are prevalent in the music world even in these enlightened times, and the picture of orchestral musicians as infantile and submissive, caught between willful conductors, insensitive management, and hypervigilant unions, is not as rare as one would hope…it suddenly dawned on me that the conductor of an orchestra does not make a sound. His picture may appear on the cover of the CD in various dramatic poses, but his true power derives from his ability to make other people powerful. I began to ask myself questions like ‘What makes a group lively and engaged?’…I began to shift my attention to how effective I was at enabling the musicians to play each phrase as beautifully as they were capable…certainly I could tell a lot by looking into their eyes- the eyes never lie, after all- and at their posture, their whole demeanor, and I could ask myself, ‘are they engaged?’”
One of the most important lessons we try to instill in students of our music school in Odessa, Texas is the value of personal responsibility and the ensuing autonomy that comes with that realization.
He once made a mistake in a rehearsal, and later caught it of himself, and apologized to the orchestra, something that is rare if ever done. “I was amazed that no less than three musicians come to me separately and in private to say that they couldn’t remember the last time they had heard a conductor admit his own mistake…I initiated a practice of putting a blank sheet of paper on every stand in each rehearsal. The players are invited to write down any observation or coaching for me that might enable me to empower them to play the music more beautifully…they began to support me, not by bolstering my authority, nor my ego, but by giving recognition to my role as an essential conduit for the full realization of the possibility of the music.”
Learning to be authentic and honest is something we endeavor to help students in our music school in Odessa, Texas embrace. This is, ultimately, the only way to gain acceptance with an audience.
“A monumental question for leaders in any organization to consider is: How much greatness are we willing to grant people? Because it makes all the difference at every level who it is we decide we are leading. The activity of leadership is not limited to conductors, presidents, and CEOs, of course- the player who energizes the orchestra by communicating his newfound appreciation for the tasks of the conductor, or a parent who fashions in her own mind that her children desire to contribute, is exercising leadership of the most profound kind.”
As we teach students in our music school in Odessa, Texas, we want them to understand how much we value them and their potential. We seek not to be esteemed in our own right, but rather to serve their progress and make them feel supported as they grow.
Listening for passion and commitment is the practice of the silent conductor whether the players are sitting in the orchestra, on the management team, or on the nursery floor. How can this leader know how well he is fulfilling his intentions? He can look in the eyes of the players and prepare to ask himself, ‘Who am I being that they are not shining?’ He can invite information and expression. He can speak to their passion. He can look for an opportunity to hand them the baton.”
It is our desire to see the ‘light in the eyes’ of each student at our music school in Odessa, Texas. When we do, we know that we have succeeded in our work as teachers.