Do Orchestra Musicians Earn their Salaries?

Same song, different verse… yet another round of labor disputes is rippling through the world of classical music.  Of course, all eyes have recently been focused on the San Francisco Symphony and its epic meltdown, which just triggered a short strike by the San Francisco Symphony Chorus that killed the Symphony’s season opener.

Also jumping into the breach is the National Symphony Orchestra. The NSO’s management just went on a media blitz saying the musicians only work “20 hours a week,” which obviously gives them plenty of time to pursue “other sources of income.”

Let’s think about the argument that musicians only work 20 hours a week. So, by that argument… NFL players only work a few hours one day a week on Sunday? Forgive me for pointing out the obvious that besides attending weekly rehearsals, professional musicians have to practice several hours a day, every day. Plus, they have to have already learned their music prior to the first rehearsal—i.e. on their own time. This is a basic, universally-agreed upon truth. But although that is a basic, universally-agreed upon truth, the NGO management hasn’t assigned that outside work a number.  Let’s fill that in, and conservatively add 21 hours (3 hours per day).  This raises the total to 41 hours a week, which tends to nullify the argument.

But this is a symptom of a bigger problem. Once again, just like every other time orchestra management trots out these canards, there’s a chorus of people who, after hearing a couple of sound bites bandied about in the press, decide musicians are wildly overcompensated.  Again and again, these people ask, “Where can I get a job with 20 weeks paid vacation, full benefits and $150K, [or whatever the so-called ‘inflated’ salary is that’s been ripped out of context and floated around by the press]?”

What do these musicians do to deserve such lavish compensation!?

When we’re lucky, these folks are asking this as an honest question.  When we’re unlucky, it’s simply a sarcastic retort meant to belittle the musicians.

A few thoughts.

It is always uncomfortable to be put into a position to defend your salary—I doubt many of us would be eager for the national press corps to publicly publish stories about our salaries, or to demand that we justify them.

But let me point out that musicians certainly do earn theirs.

First, let’s drop the romantic notion that musicians just do this as a hobby, for fun.  Most folks don’t realize that to land a permanent job with a major symphony orchestra or opera company, it takes years of highly specialized training, constant conditioning, and huge investments into equipment.  This is non-negotiable, as competition for those positions is fierce.

Don’t just take my word for this… let’s talk to an expert.

A few years back during the Minnesota Orchestra lockout, I had a number of “concerned citizens” contact me, demanding that someone explain why musicians’ salaries were so high. The unmistakable sentiment was: “How hard could it be to get a job? What did they do to actually earn that money when they’re only working a few hours a week? Hell, I could do that!”

Well, he asked… and Manny Laureano, the long-standing and much-respected Principal Trumpet from the Minnesota Orchestra, answered.  His response reflected his own life story, but in the broader sense it provided a vivid account of what it takes to be a professional musician, and why they earn their pay.

As this is an important topic that keeps coming up again and again, I wanted to share Manny’s words with the broader public.  With his permission, I’m adapting this as a stand-alone piece, edited for clarity.  Perhaps other professional musicians could chime in with their own experiences, too.

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Want to land a permanent job with a top orchestra? To get that too-high salary with too-many-weeks of vacation? Here’s what you do:

1) Choose a musical instrument to study and purchase one.

2) Find a qualified teacher of that instrument.

3) Practice for a good 10 years or so.

4) With a good 10 years of primary instruction under your belt, audition for Juilliard, Curtis Institute, The Eastman School, New England Conservatory, Indiana University, The Cleveland Institute of Music, or The Colburn School. Any of those will do. If one of these doesn’t work out, I’ll have a longer list for you of other similar places to try to get into.

5) Study for another 4-6 years at one of those schools if you get in. Once you get in, get ready to take out several loans to go there.
5a) Along the way, attend summer festivals so that you can study more and pay more tuition.

6) Freelance in your city or other locales to get experience playing with professionals in great orchestras. You’ll have to break in based on recommendations and your reputation as a musician and person.

7) Travel nationally and internationally to take auditions at your own expense which include air/bus/carfare and hotels. Stay healthy. It would suck if you developed a cold the day before you play after all that practicing and expense.

8 ) Win an audition in a major orchestra. No, not with a community orchestra—a major orchestra that pays a career-level salary.

9) When you do all that you’ll have two years to prove yourself worthy of tenure so that you can stay. If you don’t pass, you get to start auditioning all over again for another orchestra. Yes, great musicians are sometimes denied tenure because he or she wasn’t the right fit in the section involved.

A key point here… all those weeks of vacation? Nope… you need to continue practicing and playing so that you don’t lose your technique and endurance. Sorry. Out of those “ten weeks of vacation,” I only actually take two off in the summer… and it takes me two weeks after I return to get back in shape for the first rehearsal.

And all that practicing does a number on the body.  You’re twisting your limbs in odd ways, repeatedly straining muscles you didn’t know you had.  Repetitive stress injuries are common among musicians the same way they’re common among athletes and dancers.  Health—and healthcare—are on our minds all the time.  When we tour, we always bring doctors, sports massagers, and chiropractors along, and their services are always in heavy demand.

Finally, I failed to mention that the instrument you started your studies on has been upgraded several times… and you’ll probably be needing loans to pay for those if you decided to play a stringed instrument. Non-stringed instruments are generally cheaper but here’s the catch: you will own many more non-stringed instruments than string players do stringed instruments, so, it winds up costing about the same.

My personal collection, you ask? Glad to oblige:

5 C trumpets
3 B♭ trumpets (used to be 4 but I had to sell one after the lockout began)
1 D trumpet
2 E♭ trumpets

That’s a partial list. Those instruments are all made by David Monette. Ask around and find out how much they cost. Be warned, you may need to pick your jaw off the floor… they’re not like the trumpets you borrowed from school or rented to play in marching band.  And yes, even casual listeners most certainly can hear the difference.

So, there you have it…this is what it takes to make it to the big leagues.

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And this is why compensation packages are so critical.  The musicians’ salaries reflect that they are tops in their field. They’ve gone through extensive, specialized training, and in most cases bought instruments (and insure them) for hundreds of thousands of dollars. And to be in a major symphony orchestra means they have to spend hours every day honing their craft. They are working with their instruments daily, in much the same way that an athlete needs to work out daily to stay in shape. This is all done above and beyond their group rehearsals.

The athlete comparison is really quite apt. In many ways, assembling an orchestra is similar to a pro ball franchise fielding a team.

And just like a top spots team…you have to pay for quality if you’re going to play at the big-league level.

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Xochipilli

Saying Goodbye to Stella

Stella, Wait! Damn it, she’s off and running again.

Our rescue pup Stella was motion. Pure, joyous, innocent, and free. She was a wild girl at heart, a 35-pound ball of fur, fangs and enthusiasm. Boundless enthusiasm.

Stella’s speed was one of the things we first noticed about her. A mere week after we adopted her, I experienced her speed in all its nerve-wracking glory. I had bundled her into my car while I ran to the grocery store; there was no way I was letting a one-year-old dog with next to no training roam free in our house alone and unattended. Much safer this way, I told myself.

Ah, but Stella’s speed. When I opened the door in Lund’s parking lot, I was flabbergasted as she essentially vaulted completely over me from the passenger’s side and took off like a shot.

Panic ensued… that less than a week after we adopted Stella, she was going to be killed by running into traffic. I bolted after her, and in my biggest, loudest dad-voice, I bellowed out “STELLA!!!” The unexpected fury in my tone, from a man she had only recently met, got through her puppy brain and she pulled into an immediate, startled halt. I gathered her up in my arms, and now that she was safe, tried to wind back the dad-yelling with bubbly words about how she was a good dog, and thank you for stopping.

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But she never really did stop. The running continued. Always continued. Even in her dreams, she was clearly running… chasing something. Lighting speed, beyond any dog I ever had. Our fence—specifically, our first, four-foot fence—did nothing to slow her. After some time, we could observe her running up to the fence, considering, testing. And finally, figuring it out. With a running head-start, she could leap and clear the top, bound into the neighbor’s yard, and bolt for glory.

Slow down…! You keep running. Why are you always running?

Once she was clear of our fence, there was no catching her until she paused for a breath. We thought the first time might be a aberration. We hoped so at least. A few weeks later we hosted a cook out in our back yard, and hoped that the novelty of new people and food passing freely around would keep her interest so she wouldn’t bolt.

They didn’t.

“Wow, she’s fast,” our friends remarked as she cleared the fence and flew across the street. We told everyone “The house is yours! Back soon!” as we took off after her. We were mortified. Our guests thought it was the most entertaining party they had been to in some time.

We built a higher fence.

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Stella didn’t naturally do well with other dogs, but Jill really put in the work to get Stella to a point where we could bring her to off-leash dog parks. Where she could run and run and run and run. She never actually ran herself out—such a thing could never happen—but running in the parks worked to take a bit of the edge off her.

And when she couldn’t run, walks would certainly do. The second time Jill suited up to take her on a morning walk, Stella decided—and expected—that that was now an essential part of every day’s morning ritual. Walks. Everywhere walks. Down to Minnehaha Falls. Around the lakes. Along the Mississippi River. Stella sniffing the pee-mail and taking in everything.

She’s off running again. Geez, Stella, slow down already!

It wasn’t just Stella’s body that was fast—so was her mind. Our good girl was a problem solver. A dog who figured out angles to cut off squirrels in mid-chase. We had a doggie puzzle box that occupied her, but not for nearly as long as we would have liked. She had a favorite toy, the “purple thing,” shaped like a small dumbbell that you could fit treats into and she would have to work them out. She quickly realized that if she ran to the staircase and threw it down, the treats would bounce out much more readily. She figured out how to open cupboards. She understood directions and pointing. Dogsitters noted that it only took one day for Stella to have figured out their entire personal routine and act accordingly.

And of course, there was the time she needed stiches on her front left paw and had to be bandaged up, with a “cone of shame” to keep her from worrying at them. Imagine my surprise when a few days later I turned the corner to witness her using the cone of shame to actually remove her bandage—essentially pinning one end of the wrapping with the edge of the cone, and pulling her paw back to unwind it. Never in my life have I admonished my dog with “STOP USING TOOLS!”

We had to bring her back to the vet to get a bigger cone.

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C’mon Stella, you’re gonna wear yourself out already! Slow down!

Our wild girl loved us with the same reckless abandon with which she ran. She… so desperately wanted us to be happy. To make us happy. No more than we wanted her to be happy.

Wait, Stella… you’re running too fast… running away….

She was constantly checking on us. Always shadowing us. Always curious to see what we were up to. When she came around a corner, she’d scan the room with her bright eyes to find us, and then come over to interact with us. Snuggling when she could; she always preferred to be in physical contact. Enjoying the feeling of having her back against our legs, or resting her chin on our feet. Proudly coming to find us when she figured out some new puzzle we’d just as soon she had left alone.

Please Stella, slow down… I can’t keep up. Won’t be able to catch you…

Stella got us through pandemic, adjusting to our now-constant presence with joy, figuring out our routine, and herding us like a border collie to go to where she knew we were supposed to go. Walks, always an essential and exuberantly looked-forward part of her day, extended and became more frequent. Sight-seeing road trips became a new treat.

Stella? Stella? …are you… gone…?

Stella’s gone.

Stella passed quickly. Woke us up during the night in distress, unable to move and making a terrified whimper that shattered my heart. We could only hold her for the last hour of her life.

Her endless run through life finally stopped. She is at rest.

In place of her exuberant love, we are left with shocking silence. And a terrible stillness.

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And I guess that’s what’s left me so devastated. That sudden absence of her desperate, selfless love. That big booming exuberant love that knocked you down. You couldn’t help but be swept up into it. To revel in it. Even as she aged, it was still there. Exuberant love and excitement.

The only motion now is the running of my tears. And I can’t seem to stop them.

Stella’s gone.

I have to let her go. To pull myself together and begin the process of unwinding her from our lives. To move her beds away. To finally clear that muddy smudge of a paw print she left in my back seat. To pack up unopened bags of treats. To pull back my hand that still instinctively reaches down to scritch her ears while I’m working.

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Memories. Fourteen years of memories. Of her hating her snow boots. Of her trying to play with our onery cat, and later “telling on him” when he started doing things she knew he wasn’t supposed to. Of her destroying a pillow and covering our entire living room in fluffy down. Chasing chipmunks she didn’t know what to do with once she caught them, and looking to us for help. Her deer-like leaps when on the chase. The way she gently flipped her head in glee while bringing her purple thing to me to be filled. Bedtime snuggles and morning greetings. The way she gently “hummed” when truly content. How she loved camping along Lake Superior.

I have to let her go. God help me, I don’t want to. But even as it breaks my heart to do so, I call out the only thing I can:

Run Stella, and never stop! For 14 years you were life, and love, in pure motion… don’t stop now. Don’t worry—we love you and always will. Run! Run and be free!

Until next time, sweet girl—when between time and space, our spirits will meet again.

And when we do, we will all run again… together.

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Osmo’s Top Concerts with the Minnesota Orchestra

Yesterday I wrote out some personal reflections of Osmo Vänskä’s tenure as Music Director of the Minnesota Orchestra.

It’s important to keep in mind that Osmo himself always spoke through his music. And so in that spirit, I’m offering a list of my favorite Osmo concerts, that I think collectively sum up his time here. Some are epochal events that will be talked about for generations… some are simply on the list just for personal reasons. I freely admit that I’ve performed in many of these concerts as a singer in the Minnesota Chorale—this is less a case of nepotism than it is a reflection that these will always be close to my heart. Moreover, I’ve written about many of them before, either here on my blog or a journalist for MinnPost. Enjoy.

And I’d be curious what others’ choices are…?

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Osmo: The Right Person, in the Right Job, at the Right Time

Well, I suppose it’s time.

Time to write a farewell to Osmo Vänskä as he steps down from his 19-year tenure as Music Director of the Minnesota Orchestra.

He joins the ranks of several other venerated conductors who have made their mark on the ensemble, but ultimately moved on—greats like Dimitri Mitropoulos, Antal Dorati, Neville Marriner, Eugene Ormandy.  And now Osmo.

I’ve been dreading writing this out for a while… well, maybe “dread” is too harsh a term. I’ve thought many times about writing a retrospective, about trying to give Osmo the send off he deserves. But it’s harder to do than I thought. Hard to imagine this end to an exceptional era.

Publicity Photo from the Minnesota Orchestra

It’s curious. We’re hardly bosom buddies, but I can’t help but note how deeply he has been intertwined with my life over the last 22 years. He started as Music Director with the Orchestra at about the same time I started on as a full-time staff member. While I have not had the pleasure of close-knit, near-daily interactions with him like the Orchestra musicians, or even the senior staff at Orchestra Hall, I have had a surprisingly rich and varied series of encounters with him. I’ve worked worked closely with him as an arts administrator on staff of the Orchestra, performed with him as a singer in the Minnesota Chorale, served for a time as his translator in Cuba, interfaced with him as a member of the media, interviewed him as a program annotator… and served him drinks as a bartender.

An altogether strange mixture of experiences. So many experiences that I’m not even sure where to start, if I am to give a proper retrospective.

So I guess I’ll start here: simply put, Osmo was exactly what we needed. The right person in the right place at the right time.

He was and is an incredible musical talent, and I think his legacy will ultimately (and rightly) be judged on his exceptional contributions as an artistic leader. But there is more to it than that. He was also a pivotal organizational leader… and I’m not sure if his contributions in this arena get the credit they deserve. And finally, Osmo was a perfect fit for Minnesota… both the state, and the Orchestra.

And I’d like to say a few words about why.

(The usual disclaimers that I’m writing this simply from my own perspective, based own experiences. I do not presume to speak for others or any of the organizations I’m involved with.)

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How I Met Osmo

The Minnesota Orchestra is now about half-way through its Sibelius Festival. Which has been a thing of joy for the ages… I can’t remember the first time a soloist got a standing ovation after the first movement of a concerto. I mean, Osmo had to all but shush us to be able to continue….

This is not, strictly speaking, the Big Finale celebrating his time as Music Director of the Minnesota Orchestra, but you can’t escape the feeling that this is a finale of sorts. A final victory lap of incredible music that he—and the Orchestra—feel deeply connected to.

And the fact that we just heard a stunning performance of the Sixth Symphony—which just happens to be my favorite piece of music—I wanted to come full circle and share another story, about another Sibelius Sixth. And how it healed my soul.

It’s the story about how I finally met one of my musical idols, at what ended up being a pivotal moment in my life.

And, it is a story that I reflect upon repeatedly, as the season winds down….

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A Classical Playlist for Cinco de Mayo

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

It’s a curious holiday with a curious history—it commemorates the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, between the Mexican army and invading French forces sent by Napoleon III, who hoped to conquer the country and bring it into France’s orbit.

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BattleofPuebla2

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The French troops landed at Veracruz and marched inland toward Mexico City. Mexican forces, who had been beaten badly in a series of skirmishes, retreated back to the heavily fortified city of Puebla.  The French commander, believing he could end the Mexicans’ resistance with a single stroke, chose to attack the city from the north.  It was a costly mistake.  The Mexican defenders held, and as the French pulled back Mexican cavalry flanked them and turned the retreat into a rout.

The world expected the French to easily conquer the country, and the Mexicans’ unexpected victory served as a huge morale boost for the beleaguered defenders.  That said, the success was only temporary; the French regrouped, and with the arrival of additional troops were able to win the Second Battle of Puebla in 1863.  The French moved on to capture Mexico City, where they installed Emperor Maximillian as a pro-French puppet.  This “Mexican Empire” survived until 1867, when Mexican forces under Benito Juárez defeated the last remnants of the French army and had Maximillian executed.

With this background, it’s easy to see why Cinco de Mayo remains more of a mid-level holiday in Mexico today—it was a plucky, momentary victory on the eve of a large-scale defeat.  In truth, within Mexico the holiday is mostly celebrated in and around Puebla itself.

That said, Cinco de Mayo has taken on a new life north of the border, where it remains a major holiday among Mexican-Americans.  Here, it is a festive expression of cultural pride and a time for the honoring of cultural symbols.  In this way, it shares strong similarities to St. Patrick’s Day, which is a much larger event in the US than it is in Ireland.

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Mexico is an intensely musical place; it is the home of a wonderful range of musical styles and forms, in both popular and “formal” styles.  In the spirit of today’s holiday, allow me to share some recommendations of works in a more classical vein. Continue reading

Singing Truth to Power: A Musical Protest during the Aztec Empire

The gathered musicians were, unsurprisingly, terrified.

They were about to take part in a musical protest of sorts, using a specially-written song to challenge their oppressor face to face, and demand justice for their people. But their oppressor was the most powerful person they could imagine… the leader of the Aztec Empire.

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Christmas Carol Disasters

It’s that time of year again—a season filled with joy, wonder, hope… and for musicians, raw terror.

Christmastime.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Like most people I absolutely love all the joy, wonder and hope.  I love the closeness of family, the laughs of sharing memories, and finding that perfect present for my sweetie.  And I love sense of religious joy that pervades the season, as we seem more willing to let Light into our lives.

But I’m also a musician and I know the challenges December can bring.  The accumulated run of concerts, worship services, pageants, and other performances can leave you feeling more burned out than a year-old yule log.  Come Christmas Day I’m usually hiding under my bed… with a bottle of tequila.

The good/bad dichotomy is amplified when you are a professional caroler… as I was in my younger days.

In terms of the good, you personally bring the holiday spirit to people.  For example, when we were caroling through the airport, travelers would always brighten when we passed by, forgetting their delays, lost luggage, or general fatigue.  In various malls, shoppers would immediately surround us with huge smiles, sometimes joining in if the song was familiar.

Plus, we were privileged to sing some wonderful music—tunes that have survived the centuries because they are good. Years later, it’s still a point of pride for me that I can rattle off the words to most of the verses to nearly every Christmas carol the little baby Jesus has ever heard.

But over time, and uncounted hours of caroling… well, let’s just say that I’ve seen my share of Christmas-related disasters. Continue reading

Merry Christmas [sic] from the MET

Merry Christmas! What better way to celebrate the joy and wonder of the season than by… picking a mean-spirited labor fight, when everyone is reeling from the pandemic!

And that’s just what Peter Gelb is planning for the Metropolitan Opera in New York: an aggressive labor action to lock out the MET’s stagehands. In a piece in the New York Times today, Mr. Gelb lays out the plan: he seeks to lock out its stagehands at midnight after the union representing the workers balked at the company’s demands for pay cuts.   

First, I want to say that as someone who is on the Board of an important arts organization, and as someone who is a professional fundraiser, no one is more aware of the financial challenges groups are struggling with right now. The pandemic is clobbering the arts world.

But it is… grating to have the MET generally, and Mr. Gelb specifically, arguing that the only way to meet the ongoing storm is through draconian cuts. Which will conveniently come exclusively at the expense of the workers trying to make the MET a success. And just as conveniently are a carbon copy of the arguments he made to force union concessions during the last MET labor dispute in 2014.

As a counter argument, the Minnesota Orchestra, which faced a major labor dispute of its own at nearly the exact same time as the MET’s last one, has gone on in a completely different direction. In response to the pandemic and the financial challenges it has unleashed, the Orchestra has made changes, negotiated cuts in good faith, and still gone ahead with presenting arts programming and delivering it to the community. No universal furloughs at all.  Moreover, the Orchestra has worked with our local PBS station and public radio to deliver performances live, in a virtual format. And best of all, the Orchestra has completely overhauled its programming so that it is much more innovative; each performance includes works by composers of color and/or women. They have done heroic work to keep their musicians and staff engaged… and paid.

So, it can be done.

The MET, however, gone in a different direction. It has furloughed everybody, and has once again decided that it’s going to cut its way toward prosperity. To justify this, it has pulled out—in some cases literally—the exact same talking points from the last major labor dispute in 2014. The weakness of the arguments back then made it clear that Mr. Gelb was interested not in sustainability, but rather in extracting union concessions as an end goal. And it seems that that is the same plan this year, too.

A few observations.

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Let’s Drop Christopher Columbus, and Celebrate Bartolomé de las Casas

Across the USA, there is a movement brewing that is asking us to reconsider historical figures from the past, asking if we should continue to revere them today. Christopher Columbus is often brought up in these discussions, and for good reason—it is hard to reconcile his boldness and visionary qualities as an explorer with the fact that as an administrator he was a monster, even by the standards of the time.

Given the problematic nature of Columbus’s legacy, let me suggest that we remove him from the pantheon of cultural heroes, and replace  him with a different figure from the Age of Exploration… a man who moved in the same circles as Columbus and experienced many of the same things as his contemporary did, and yet took a very different path. Let us consider life and times of Bartolomé de las Casas.

Back when I was a working Latin American historian, I wrote the following as an article for the Encyclopedia of American History: Three Worlds Meet – Beginnings to 1607 (Facts on File Press: 2003), which in the age of Wikipedia is long out of print. Because it’s a published work, I’ve pretty much left it as-is, retaining the format of an encyclopedia article. It has not been updated to reflect new research, nor have I updated the reading list at the end. Please note that the capitalized terms indicate linked entries in the print edition that curious readers could turn to for more information. Continue reading