Playing to My Crowd

Since post-concert audience verdicts have recently been the order of the day here at NewMusicBox, I hope you’ll forgive me for making a late reflection on that subject now. I won’t try to top Dan Visconti, whose list is a must-read; the comments section of his article also documents a wealth of awkward moments.

In a really good year, I might see five performances of my music (often it’s just three or four) and most of these performances take place in the academy. I think that this context probably insulates me from most of the really juicy comments that I might receive from listeners, particularly (but not only) negative ones. I get a lot of technical questions, polite inquiries for more background on a piece, and vaguely encouraging nods. It’s fortunate to be able to assume a relatively informed audience; I don’t have to deal with “that’s not music”-type upbraidings after a recital, which is worth being grateful for.

Just as importantly, I can discuss the show with my peers after a performance—I’m lucky to have thoughtful and dedicated colleagues whose opinions I value very highly. Sometimes our performances take on a “studio class” character after the fact, which is great. Nobody has to make a big show of excitement about a piece that doesn’t excite him or her, so when I get a truly enthusiastic response, I know that the piece has really made an impression.

Tailoring one’s work to the criteria of a small group of like-minded artists is a potentially short-sighted plan, but my colleagues here at the U of MN and I are in some ways an ideal audience for ourselves: We know when a piece is a genuine articulation of its composer’s project and when it’s false or indistinct; we take different viewpoints on the aesthetic problems we confront; we have high expectations but are ultimately sympathetic to one another. I hope there’ll be plenty of years to get irritable comments from listeners outside the U, but at the moment I’m happy to keep it to a low simmer with my friends.