Pros and Cons

Is it possible to be both professional and amateur at the same time?

Mark Wigglesworth 10:08am GMT 18th April 2012

I was recently asked whether I'd have rather been an amateur musician. Though the answer, I'm glad to say, is no, the question made me think about what the differences are. The cliché that it's a privilege to spend your life being paid to do what you love is undoubtedly true, but for your passion and your work to be the same thing isn't always a straightforward bliss that one might be assume. People are good at music because they love it and are lucky to have a talent for it. But to be good enough to become, and more importantly, remain a professional musician demands hard work on a consistent basis. To connect 'hard' and 'work' with something you love is a contradiction that can sometimes be complicated to resolve.

I'm aware of the 'grass is greener' syndrome but I can't help occasionally being a little envious of the amateur's lightness of being. I'm not suggesting they don't get nervous, and I know they make exceptional demands on themselves to deliver their best, but there's nevertheless a safety net which prevents a disappointing concert from having any affect on their livelihood. A certain devil-may-care attitude that amateurs bring to performances is extremely healthy and though there may not be many concerts each year, the stakes that fact raises always create a special sense of occasion.

Professionalism is double-edged. I admire the quickness of professional orchestras to solve any musical problems put their way. I'm in awe of their reliability under often intense pressure. But professionalism itself is a dangerous goal, and unless seen as a means to an end, can camouflage a fear of failure that prevents the greatest success. The football manger Luiz Felipe Scolari told his Brazilian team to 'feel more amateur than professional'. They won the World Cup. The professionalism necessary to achieve the highest results mustn't suffocate the amateur defining love for something that is ultimately what communicates so much to others.

The words 'professional' and 'amateur' used to have different associations. A hundred years ago amateurs were respected individuals, whereas the word 'professional' could be derogatory. Nowadays 'amateurish' implies casual and incapable, whilst 'professional' is a significant compliment. But Oscar Wilde's quip about the amateur musician being an example of all men killing the thing they love is unfair. Their commitment and zest create a wonderful sense of life and purpose, and the variety of professions they represent supply a rich hinterland to the expression of the music. After all, as has been pointed out, it was amateurs who built the Ark, and professionals who built the Titanic.

Financial considerations aside, are the two words mutually exclusive? Can professionals maintain an amateur's enthusiasm and spirited freedom every day? And is it possible for amateurs to approach performances with the discipline and reliability of professionals? The answer is yes. In fact, if you combine the best of both worlds, to be amateur and professional at the same time probably represents an ideal of musical performance.

Mark Wigglesworth

Leading conductor Mark Wigglesworth is equally at home in the opera house as in the concert hall – and, indeed, the studio, where his acclaimed Shostakovich symphony cycle for BIS is nearing completion. In 'Shaping the invisible' Mark shares his passion for music and his fascination with the philosophies and psychologies that lie behind it. (Photo: Ben Ealovega)

Comments

A very interesting observation.  I have struggled at times with the pros and cons of, in my case, being an amateur musician (violin).  My experiences vary from little amateur bands to a mix of amateur and professional symphony orchestras.  There have been times when I got slightly frustrated by the casual and 9-5 approach of some professional players.  Some, fortunately not all, professional orchestra players see their job entirely as a 9-5 job, play what is written and conducted.  Pack their case and rush back home. They don't want to talk shop. Often unwilling to discuss music matters i.e. performances by other artists (professionals), reviews or recent recordings. When there is a discussion than most likely about the "bad" conductor.  As an amateur player I probably have had the luck to be able to play in orchestras that performed almost anything, accompanying singers, trying to sing New York, or being part of a performance of Mendelssohn's Elijah. I feel I have the best of both worlds.

I always wanted to work as a professional musician, but, by choice I decided to do something else because of other priorities in life. However, I always try to serve this Art in any possible way, particularly through the collaboration with professionals, organising small concerts of Chamber Music in difficult and "virgin" areas of the world.

My experience indicates to me that, most of the professionals have already made their mindset and they don't always endeavour something daring or new. They try mostly to perfect and fully command their Art. I, as an unofficial but actual producer, provide the ideas I see they can work perfectly, based on the audience, the place, the habits and culture of the country involved. Our collaboration so far has proven very productive, invigorating and inspiring. We never thought how impressively well Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody no.2 could work in a Piano Quartet format or Rossini's Barber of Seville in a Piano Quintet (with Double Bass) transcription as well.

Parla

I live in Cincinnati, Ohio where the general population is somewhere in the 350,000 range and for its size, has a fairly supportive audience when it comes to classical music. However, support towards the visual arts here pales in comparison with symphony crowds and conservatory events. I grew up in Cincinnati (and some on the north east coast) and over time, I developed into an amateure musician. All of my performing opportunities however transpired vicariously from the results of being a professional visual artist at an early age. In grade school, I made consistent money playing a drum kit in a piano, bass and drums trio that played for private parties but I met the pianist at an arts school where I majored in painting and drawing. My first love was classical music but I had zero talent for it and playing jazz in a big city, well lets just say that reality creeped in at some point along the way. Having studied music in various small colleges (ah yes, this is where the reality finally creeped in) I dropped music all together, did an undergraduate and graduate degree at the local Art, Design and Architecture college (DAAP) and am making basically zero money as a result. I have credentials as an artist, tenative professional gallery contracts on both sides of the pond and work collectively scattered in different countries but would be making more money if I were still playing in that jazz trio from my days in grade school. The point that I am trying to make is that my success in the visual arts, makes me a visual artist and that it is an inherent gift that I get to live out on a daily basis. There is no amount of money that could raise my talents in music above what I've accomplish in the areas of sculpture, painting and drawing. Though my work doesn't appeal to everyone, somehow I always get through with a little room to spare and so then my job is to do what's in front of me.