Composer on K Street

We’re currently in the midst of a major search process here at the University of Minnesota—our School of Music needs a director. I always jump at the chance to take part in faculty searches; it’s a great way to acquaint oneself with the candidates’ work, of course, but it’s also a valuable window into what committees are looking for when they interview applicants. Most importantly, though, it’s an opportunity to shape, in a tiny way, the future of the institution.

During searches with the goal of hiring a composer, I feel like my work is more or less cut out for me. Identify the individual who writes the most badass music, the individual with the best classroom skills, and the individual I can most easily stand to be around: Whoever meets those criteria most comprehensively wins my endorsement, for what it’s worth (usually not much). In the present situation, however, our target is an administrator, and I always struggle a bit to construct a definition of “qualifiedness” when it comes to arts administrators. When a position in composition is at stake, I don’t worry even for a second about how the hire will affect other branches of the school’s music community; in the search for someone to take much broader control of musical activities, though, maybe I should consider the School of Music’s needs beyond my own.

Or maybe not. Maybe my job is to advocate most strenuously for whoever promises to give the composers what we want, concert band and Schenker courses and accordion lessons and music therapy be damned, on the assumption that these other special interest groups also have their lobbyists on the case. Nevertheless, the idea that my university music program has developed some sort of penny-stakes K Street is disheartening. After even six years in higher education, I don’t have much patience for turf warfare and petty grasping. It would be nice to see someone take one for the team, just once. Of course, as a student, I don’t get a vote—so I’ll have to rely on those higher-ups with clout to see the big picture.