The End of the Violinist-Composer
Between 1644 and 1913, there was just under an average of one violinist- composer of note born every year. From 1913-1964, a 51-year period, only five were born, and since then maybe another fifteen. That is about a 65% drop in the last century compared to the consistent pace of the previous 269 years. This also does not take into account how many more violinists, in general, exist today as the world population has skyrocketed in the last century. So why the sudden drop?
In 1913, Henry Ford introduced Mass Production to the world. It was a logical, even inevitable outcome of industrialization and the growing prevalence of capitalism. Historians, social theorists, and philosophers have long studied the cultural and economic consequences of the production line, and none more than Karl Marx. Marx wrote extensively about the separation of the worker from the means of production. Essentially, he theorized that Capitalist societies result in a system where the worker does not have the means to fully produce something and is therefore alienated from it. This creates a rift between a worker and his product - financially, emotionally, spiritually, etc. - a rift that has extended consequences on group culture and the individual psyche. Further, it separates the worker from both the invention of the product, and its consumption, and by doing so makes the worker more replaceable.
Because of the universality with which these systems went into place throughout Western cultures, it shouldn't be surprising that artists - maybe especially musicians - who were brought up in such cultures were impacted significantly by these prevailing philosophies. Thus, the worker (the musician) became separated from her means of production. It was no longer thought right that she should invent her own product (compose), but instead must participate in the production line (ensemble), do her part, and go home, whilst others collected even in many cases the cultural capital that results from a musical production. It was indeed in the 20th century - in tandem with the developments and changes in Western culture - that the Symphony Orchestra as an institution truly came into the fore of classical music production. These institutions were filled with "workers" completely separate from the creation of their product and its consumption, even more so with the necessary addition of unions to these institutions.
The 21st century is seeing further development in this regard, but in a more fractional way in that there are two observable reactions happening. The first is that of those larger institutions of music, Symphony Orchestras. These institutions have the greatest economic demands, and as a result, are
unknowingly increasing the alienation of its workers. They find themselves with the perceived need to diversify programming in the genres of their product presented to the public. Musicians then who have spent their lives studying one kind of music are having notes put in front of them from all other styles that they were previously unaware of or only remotely aware of. But because these notes can be put on paper the same as Beethoven's notes, just like the same manufacturing plant can be maneuvered to produce a wide variety of products with little impact on its workers, to the consumer the quality of playing remains the same across genres. In addition, it is the conductor's responsibility, like a supervisor or manager of sorts, to make major decisions when questions inevitably arise. The worker's experience, on the other hand, becomes one of further alienation.
The second fractional reaction is in direct opposition to this separation. This banner is held by those groups and individuals who are committed to being completely responsible for, or at least invested in every aspect of the creation of their project. Notable examples of this movement might be Patricia Kopatchinskaja, Caroline Shaw, Edward W. Hardy, A Far Cry, The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, Kronos Quartet, and the recently passed Jaakka Kuusisto, just to name a few. These musicians have carved out their own niche of an audience (perhaps the same one or perhaps with only some overlap, that would require a study of its own), but there is a specificity that is necessitated by this level of personal investment, and they cannot reach the width of an audience that a Symphony Orchestra can. It is difficult to argue that the quality of the product is higher because of this specificity, but there is an intensity and commitment that can be magnetic to their ultimate output.
In general, neither method is particularly successful or unsuccessful. Some orchestras are thriving, some are struggling. Some individual artists or small organizations have managed to pave their own path of creativity, and many have not. Neither's valuation is fully proven. To this blogger, it often comes down to a matter of balance and the acceptance of reality. The place where most of the production of Western classical music occurs is in capitalist societies, and that isn't changing any time soon. So what tools do we have to equip modern musicians with to reduce alienation from that product which they at the very least started their careers with a great passion for?
Curation is the answer that I most often turn to. Each individual musician within any organization has music for which they have a unique passion, and it is in that passion that we can harness the energy of specificity as well as a diversity of
programming. Too often artistic planning happens apart from musicians in large organizations or is overly reliant on either audience responsiveness or institutional goals and criteria. These are not unimportant data points for programming, but it is worthwhile to engage with musicians - whether they be freelancers or long-tenured orchestra members - in regard to what they want to play.
As much as I wish for the return of the violinist-composer of old, it simply does not fit into our societal norms, nor does our society nurture such a being into existence very easily. We must use the tools available to us to ensure musicians are connected to the product they are presenting to the world. Every musician in this field deserves a voice, and while that voice may not take the form of notes on a page, it still has a great deal of power. If it could be harnessed, and shown to the broadest of audiences, it would only have an enormously positive impact on the industry of music-making.