When I was a young conductor stricken with impostor syndrome, my greatest fear was conducting anything by Mozart. As a child, his music had been a lifesaver; he was my confidant, my best friend. And for many years I avoided conducting this most treasured music out of fear that I’d ruin it for myself, and him.
In my early 30s, I made my conducting debut at Carnegie Hall in New York with the Orchestra of St Luke’s and finally mustered the courage to take to the podium and conduct Mozart’s Symphony No 40. I was a mess; my hands were shaking, my heart smashing in my chest, and I worried my sweats of anxiety would leak through my jacket. But as the music swelled those 40 individuals came together in perfect synergy. Through the sublime drama of this symphony, they trusted and listened to each other. I took a breath and soaked this up. I realised that I didn’t have to conduct “the perfect” performance of Mozart because there is no such thing as a definitive performance. My performance would simply be unique to me, neither “better” nor “worse” than anyone else’s. This team of orchestral players worked together as the perfect team to create the ultimate display of individual – and collective – expression.
I’ve always disagreed with the notion that the conductor is the leader of an orchestra. An excellent orchestra does not need a boss. It needs teamwork. The congruence, the extraordinary teamwork at play in the orchestra has captivated me since I was a child. The beauty of an orchestra is that there is no clarinet, trumpet, or cello player who is more important than the rest. They all have equal importance and an absolute determination to make everyone else in the room look (and sound) good. Everyone has their chance to shine until they come to support someone else. In that sense, you could argue an orchestra in performance is the most evolved form of democracy in human experience. And if someone slips, the rest can – metaphorically – pick them up, support them to shine once again.
My job as conductor is to bring a cast-iron sense of the architecture of a piece of music to the orchestra, creating a magic, safe and trusting space in which everyone’s talents can shine their brightest, creating an environment in which everyone can be their very best. There have been plenty of times when I have conducted the same symphony with two different orchestras in the same week, in different cities. If I am doing my job properly, I will get two completely different experiences of that symphony. Each musician in either orchestra will bring their own uniqueness to the piece. My role is not to make the players uniform but rather to create a circle of trust so that they work together as a team. The best orchestras represent the ultimate virtuous circle.
To my mind, no other orchestra better epitomises the value of teamwork than Paraorchestra, the integrated orchestra of professional disabled and non-disabled musicians that I founded a decade ago. Out of our large orchestra, 40 players identify as disabled, and I’ve noticed that it is especially these musicians who make the best team players. There is a simple and logical explanation: teamwork is often essential to a disabled person’s daily life to overcome logistical challenges. To use a very basic example: if you use a wheelchair, just getting on a train involves more than just yourself.
In many ways, the orchestra can reflect the society we live in and the teams we inhabit at work or at home. Several parallels can be drawn between a business and an orchestra. Both require listening to each other, supporting each other, and working in unison. Many of the world’s greatest CEOs are great listeners, which is why their companies thrive. The same can be said for an orchestra.
But if the orchestra is a true reflection of society, then how has it not continued to evolve? The last permanent instrument to join the orchestra was the tuba in the 1840s. The orchestra’s main function today seems to be as the custodian of a tradition. New music is written all the time, but the orchestra’s art, story and pattern has remained largely unchanged for almost two centuries.
I don’t believe that orchestras need to be confined to theatres and concert halls. They can also perform in nightclubs, on beaches, in airports or shopping centres. And, if the orchestra is music’s most fantastic colour spectrum and sound resource, why can’t it include electronic instruments and embrace technology? For a start, this is one way of being more inclusive – many disabled performers use technology to make music. My mission has always been to reinvigorate people’s perceptions of the orchestra, challenging narrow definitions of what an orchestra is, or can be, armed with a gloriously wide range of music, from all comers of the musical spectrum. Alfred Schnittke can happily coexist with Scott Walker, Pauline Oliveros and Hildegard von Bingen. Mozart with the music of Super Mario Bros. The possibilities of an orchestra stretch so much further than we might think. Humans are marred – and graced – with flaws and unique characteristics. But when we harvest those foibles, when we work with mutual compassion, with full disclosure and comprehension of each other, in harmony and in rhythm, that’s when we are our very best. And nothing epitomises this more than the orchestra.
• Reinventing the Orchestra with Charles Hazlewood airs weekly from 6 June at 9pm on Sky Arts and Freeview. More about Paraorchestra here.
