I attended a conference last weekend called “Musikalisch ein Profi, Geschäftlich ein Amateur?” [In music a professional, in business an amateur?] It was sponsored by a number of music-related Leipzig organizations, and was aimed, as the title suggests, at those who are musically ready for a career, but still need help with the business side of things. This is a concept that has been around in America for quite some time, but it’s a new one for many over here. At my teacher’s urging, I decided to spend one of the last nice Saturdays indoors, listening to a panel discuss “making it” in Germany.
Sixteen years after reunification, Germany, especially the former East, is at a crossroads. An aging population, low birth rate, and skyrocketing unemployment have combined to make Germany one of Europe’s slowest growing economies. Germany has less and less money available in general—and the arts are no exception.
The arts continue to be state-funded, but since the fall of the Iron Curtain, orchestras, opera companies, theater groups and the like have disappeared from some smaller cities. Faced with considerable budget cuts, many companies have been forced to make massive personnel cuts. In addition, they are no longer closed to foreign musicians and actors, and with every audition the pool of applicants for each new open post is larger.
That spells bad news for graduates of schools like the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Leipzig. Not even a generation ago, graduates were almost always placed in professional companies; up until very recently the HMT was a feeder for the Gewandhaus Orchestra, the Leipzig Opera and the Leipzig Playhouse. Paychecks, though not outrageous, provided more than enough to live. A life in the arts was never the easiest, but now it’s becoming more difficult for musicians in Germany to make ends meet.
As I listened to the panel discussing the current situation, I assumed they would, at some point, bring up these points—but they didn’t. Panel members talked about their lives and how they’ve made it, or how they’re still working to make it. Audience members—mostly students and recent graduates—talked mostly about how hard it’s been to make ends meet and how difficult life has been since graduation. One woman asked the panel what she should do to start a career; she’d exhausted every possible option, and was getting frustrated.
The one individual who did mention more competition and fewer spots and the reasons behind them was Robert Ehrlich, the new, Belfast-born rektor of the HMT. He talked about luck being an important part of any career, and how being in the right place at the right time sometimes has as much—or sometimes more—to do with success as talent does.
He is completely right. The truth is, this is one of the most difficult fields in the world. It takes energy, talent, an unwavering belief in yourself, guts, a really thick skin, vulnerability, and the ability to get up over and over again, no matter how many times you fall or are knocked down. Above all, it’s about hard work. Anyone who says otherwise is not being honest.
I don’t want to sound angry or bitter, because I’m not—and giving up the last lovely day in the past six months might have colored my opinion, but maybe not. It was just so frustrating to listen to so many people asking when they would be handed employment—that’s just not the way of the world. I don’t know if it’s just an issue of culture, but it opened my eyes to (yet another) difference between Americans and Germans. Americans could learn from many aspects of German life, but more and more often, I feel the opposite also is true. And I feel that, coming from the state of mind that I do, I’m better equipped to make it, if only because I already know it’s going to take a lot of work. Somehow, having that knowledge is half the battle won. OK, maybe not half, but a good bit.
And with that, I’m going to sign off.
The sun has been setting close to 5 p.m. lately, which means winter is definitely on the way. It also means I’ve been in Germany and writing this series for just over a year—and, like graduating university or finishing a production, the time for me to move on has arrived. Thank you to Classical Singer magazine for letting me share some of my experiences with you. Thank you for your readership over the past year. Thank you for your e-mails (you can keep sending them, and I’ll keep answering). I hope I’ll get to read about your adventures abroad someday, and above all, I wish you the best of luck in your futures and your careers.
