The Time the Maestro Fell Ill During Intermission. And Mozart. Mostly.
by Drew Holmes
During my time as Principal Librarian of the Naples Philharmonic, I would spend my summers back in New York City. Since the Orchestra was seasonal and there was little library work to be done over the summer, I secured a summer gig doing library work for the Mostly Mozart Festival. This had the advantage of getting me out of southern Florida during July and allowing me to work at Lincoln Center with some of the best musicians in the world.
I remember one concert not for the repertoire or even the performance, but for what happened during intermission. The conductor felt ill towards the end of the first half and was having trouble leaving his dressing room to begin the second half. The situation was so dire that the ushers were discreetly checking the audience to see if there was a proverbial doctor in the house. Things were not looking good for the second half.
And then something happened that I have never fully understood. Someone made the decision to send the orchestra back on stage to begin the second half. Everyone took their seats and began the formal tuning process. Then they waited. And waited. And waited. No maestro entered the stage.
I was standing in the wings, stage right, and an intern said to me in a panic “This is so tense! How can you stand it?” I reflexively answered, “I did not create this problem nor is it mine to solve; I would have never sent the orchestra back on stage.” I then headed back to the library to see what problems that were mine I could work on. That reply may have been a bit brusque (hey, it was NYC after all!) but in my mind it clarified a crucial point: know your role and perform it skillfully.
This idea is so important with music making. For example, I am a skilled trumpet player. Put a bassoon in my hands and I am useless. Knowing our area of expertise and our role in the current situation is vital. It not only allows us to perform our assigned duties, but it also keeps us from getting sidetracked trying to solve problems that are not ours to solve and makes the team stronger as a result. A piccolo cannot effectively play a tuba part. When the piccolo player focuses on playing the best possible piccolo and leaves worrying about the tuba part to the tuba player the ensemble will be better.
Today I use the lesson learned that night at Boomer Music. There are barely enough hours to solve the problems on my plate, never mind the ones that are not my responsibility to solve. I have worked hard at the store to assemble a team of experts in a variety of areas and then trust them to perform their assigned duties. Knowing our role frees up scarce resources (time, mental capacity, etc.) and allows the team to accomplish more and do it faster.
Eventually the maestro recovered well enough to complete the concert and was able to conduct the second half. What could have been a disaster of a performance became a priceless lesson in mindset and perspective that I carry with me today. Thankfully, that night the show went on.