23 October, 2009

Comments from the Jury

After the jury had made their cut for the semi-final stage, a session was organized in which those of us who had not passed on were able to meet the members of the jury and receive comments on our playing.  This was our one chance to discover the motive behind the decisions made and to get ideas for what areas of our playing most need improvement.  On the surface, this appears to be the most educational aspect of the competition.  In practice, the whole experience of preparing and going to a competition is educational, and the comments of the jury are merely a cherry on the top of what you will have gained from participating.

Before I begin, let me say that I found it fascinating how much discussion there was, back and forth among the competitors, about the value of the the jury's opinion.  There was definitely no consensus that the jury was remotely trustworthy.  To an extent, this is the nature of music competitions; we all have to believe in ourselves so thoroughly just to have the guts to get up on stage that it can be crushing to receive a negative review.  Either you have to change your self-concept, or you have to convince yourself that the jurors are crazy and/or corrupt, so as to negate the validity of their opinions.  There have been many complaints flying back and forth that competitions are just so political, and this seems to help people feel better when their success is thwarted.  Temporarily leaving aside the scandal of the final awards, I think this is the wrong word; what they really mean to complain about is that the judging is subjective.  Everyone simply has a different opinion of what makes an effective, compelling performance, and different priorities for what to look for in a performer.  Music is meant to touch people on an emotional level, and you can never really know if your interpretation or style of playing will inspire, offend, or simply be lost on any one listener.

I won't share specifics about what the jurors told me or mention any names, since my intention is not to gossip but to make more general points. 

When going to these sorts of comment sessions, I advise that you bring a notebook and a pencil and scribble furiously the whole time!  It comes at you fast, and there is absolutely not enough time to digest what they say.  I was very lucky to get to talk to as many jury members as I did, and I only made it to about half of them.  The things that struck me the most were 1) how strong their opinions were, and 2) how hard it was to extract clear information from them.  Their responses were all across the board: One of them absolutely hated my playing, said bluntly that my technique was not up to the level of the competition and that he/she would have kicked me out after the first stage if only they were allowed to kick out more than four people.  Another told me that my whole conception for how to extract sound from the harp was wrong and that the choice of my modern piece in second stage was a complete dud.  Several others were completely in love with my playing, thought that my modern piece was a ground-breaking work of genius and that I should record it quickly before someone steals it, and had no explanation for why I hadn't been chosen to go on to third stage.  One was so passionate about my particular qualities as a performer that he/she invited me for a whole personal discussion later to discuss my future.  And there's always that one bit of unsolicited fashion advice, this one being that I should draw my eyebrows longer because it might make me look happier...... what?  I'm so confused.

The major obstacle to communication is that everybody defines their terms differently.  Everybody has his/her own vocabulary for talking about technique, sound, and effect.  Whenever you start studying with a new teacher, it may take months before you are actually on the same page, so it's unreasonable to expect that you can really understand the insights of six different teachers within the space of an hour.  The other half of the time their opinions are just not fully formed in the first place.  Sometimes I could tell that I just hadn't been given much thought.  In both cases, I tried to ask for clarification.  E.g. "I just didn't like your modern piece. It was boring." "You mean it was a bad choice for this program? You mean it wasn't well composed? Or did you find fault in my interpretation?"  I don't remember anything productive coming from that comment.  "Your technique is bad." I still have things to work on, but it's not that bad. "Okay, well, what can I do about it?" When I asked that, the general reaction was a look of, "Oh yeah, sorry, I'm supposed to be helpful."  And this produced more interesting recommendations, which I am now following wholeheartedly.


The comments I received were mild compared to some of the other contestants.  I heard that one poor harpist was ganged up on and attacked, and that she had to run out of the room crying to escape.  A perfectly wonderful harpist was told, "You just don't understand how to play the harp.  You see, first you put your finger on the string.  Then you pull the string.  And the string sounds."  She was waiting for the profound insight that was sure to come, but it ended there with, "This is what you have to understand." "Oh thanks!" she thought, exasperated. "If only someone had told me that before!"

By contrast, I was highly impressed when one of the jury members told me that he/she had come to the competition with a conception of how the Krumpholtz should be interpreted (infamously the hardest piece to play convincingly). However, upon hearing other interpretations, he/she had been thrown into doubt of his/her understanding of the piece and needed to go reconsider it, so had decided to entirely refrain from commenting on that piece.  I thought this was incredibly brave and honorable thing to say, and I appreciate this far more than feigning expertise.

One of the contestants suggested that it wasn't worthwhile to hear jury comments after a competition at all and that it's hopeless to know what they are looking for.  I agree that they can be incredibly hard to decipher, but if anything, they have great entertainment value (as long as you have the stomach for them)!  In all seriousness, what I found was that the jury members, having distinguished themselves as outstanding artists, each necessarily has a particular specialty.  One is great because he/she has perfected tone quality and cleanliness, and as a result, that is the primary element he/she listens for in a performance.  One is an innovator and champion of new music, and therefore most appreciates individual expression that goes beyond what we're already used to.  A 12-member jury can hope to be an average of these various specialties, but each individual may be way off on his/her own tangent.


Don't worry about how to please them all.  Just ask, what will be my specialty?

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Brava, and Bravi! I have very much appreciated your words. Particularly as a father of one of the contestants, it helped me feel more in touch with the event far away from my work and home. I am glad you will continue writing. I will continue reading, most appreciatively.
Many thanks!

Janelle said...

Right on Elizabeth! I am going to print this blog and make it required reading for all of my students who compete.

Anonymous said...

Hi Elizabeht & Martha, love the comments here on your blog. Right on the spot. I almost started to hate classical music because the attitute and way of commenting among musicians. I'm happy to hear a different voice from you here!

Anonymous said...

I had to laugh (with recognition!) at some many of your comments...
I've studied with a few "famous" teachers, and recognised so many of the comments. Possibly not the same people, but the same personality type or school of thought.
The comment about putting your finger on the string, pulling it, and the string sounds...made me laugh my head off!
As I did have a teacher say exactly the same thing to me. It was almost like a "rite of passage" for new students, that she'd have them for months just playing one note over and over and nothing else. I'd sit outside listening to these long tortuous lessons, where this new student would have to play the one note over and over, never getting it right, never getting the quality she wanted, but her never really articulating what that vague something was. They'd come out looking bemused, bedazzled, frustrated, or in tears...And finally after they had served their "time" in single note prison, she'd usually calm down and start teaching them something....
People are funny creatures.