Ten Tips for Touring

As you may have noticed, I've been doing a lot of touring lately.  As well as travelling around Germany for various projects, this season I've been in a concert tour of China and Korea.  I just got back from a trip to Spain, and I'm now gearing up for a big tour of South America in April.

Being on tour is an intense experience.  You are with the same group of people, repeating the same programme and travelling together for days on end.  It takes a lot of energy and focus, as well as patience and good humour.  Here are some important things which I've learned about what it takes to be a happy touring musician...

(Psst... You might want to start by getting a bigger suitcase)

1. Stay on top of the paperwork

Touring is rarely as simple as flying from point A to point B.  Often you will have to travel to several different locations, and apply for all of the relevant working visas.  Take it from me – you should start on this as early as possible.  Usually your employer will tell you what you need and which forms to fill out, but you may also need to look into some of this stuff on your own.  And even when you think it's all sorted, there can always be further complications and delays.  I recently had to apply for a temporary second passport at the Canadian embassy, and I'm glad I started early.  As it turned out, they needed English translations of the letters from my employers.  This inevitably took some extra time.  Imagine if I had left all of this until the last minute.  I would have never got the passport in time for the tour.  I would have been landlocked, and lost out on ten days of work!

2. Be prepared for anything

Sunshine, rain, snow, plagues of locusts – you need to pack for every possibility you can imagine.  You'll be kicking yourself if you get to a cold concert hall and realise you've forgotten your long sleeves at home.  Never say never.  Anything can happen on tour.

Betty and Jim really wished they had brought their locust repellent with them to Egypt.

3. Bring along a piece of home

Travelling from hotel to hotel can be stressful and exhausting.  So it's important to make your temporary residence as comfortable and home-y as possible.  Everyone has different things which make them feel at home.  Whether it's a cup of tea, a pair of fuzzy slippers, or a favourite movie on their laptop, these things can transform a cold soul-less hotel room into your home away from home.  Don't underestimate the importance of these small creature comforts.  They can really help you negotiate the stress of long-term travel.

Fuzzy slippers are really important, you guys!

4. Find some regularity

Another way to handle the stress of touring is to create your own regularity within the irregularity.  Having some routines and habits can help everything feel a lot less chaotic.  I have a bit of a ritual when I arrive at a new place.  I unpack my suitcase in a particular order, I have a short nap if there’s time, and then I warm up before heading to the venue.  It's important to me that I unpack right away, so that I can feel settled as soon as possible.  Aside from my unpacking ritual, I am also a member of a gym which has locations all over Germany.  This means that no matter where in the country I'm working, I can always go to my gym and know my way around.  These may seem like small details, but they really help me feel comfortable on the road.

5. Do some forward planning

When you’re travelling for work, there isn't as much space for being spontaneous as there would be on holiday.  Your sightseeing time is limited, and you can't just wander aimlessly hoping to run into something cool.  So research the places you'll be visiting.  What is unique there which you absolutely must see?  When might you have time between rehearsals and concerts to go and see it?  I'm not saying you have to make yourself a detailed itinerary, but it helps to have a rough idea of what you will see when.  I had an amazing visit recently to the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao.  I was particularly inspired by the exhibit of Niki de Saint Phalle.  I'm so glad I put some time aside to go and see it!

Seriously, how cool is this??

6. Pace yourself

Touring requires a lot of energy and endurance.  You have to think of the long game – this is a marathon, not a sprint!  It is of utmost importance that you conserve your health and energy through to the very end of the trip.  Know your own body and be sensible enough to rest when you need it.  You may feel a bit blue about missing a night at the bar or an afternoon of sightseeing, but it's better to make that sacrifice than to end up sick for the rest of the tour.

"Ahhhh.... made it."

7. Keep it fresh

One of the toughest things about touring is that you're usually performing the same piece, over and over.  But just because the music is old news to you, doesn't mean it should sound like that to the audience!  This is the first time they're hearing your performance, and they want to hear something fresh and inspiring.  So don't let yourself coast.  Keep looking for new things in the music, and trying to outdo yourself.  Could that phrase have a smoother legato?  Could that high note have a better approach?  Remember – the biggest room in the world is the room for improvement.

This is also a very big room.

8. Set a budget

You can spend crazy amounts of money on tour if you’re not careful.  The last thing you want is to come home to an empty bank account!  Many employers will pay you a per diem for your meals, which can provide a good guideline for your daily spending limit.  However there are some companies who don't provide a per diem, and if you're not careful you can eat up most of your fee before you've even been paid.  I like to take out a set amount of cash every week, based on a daily spending limit.  Some days I might go above or below this limit, but I always make sure it averages out in the end.  As long as I don't need to take out more cash before the week is out, it's all good.  This trick is even easier if you're visiting a country with a different currency.  If you only buy so many pesos from your bank, you will only have so much with you on tour.

Benito Juarez is judging your spending habits.

9. Do it like the locals

Why go all the way to Japan only to spend all your time in Starbucks?  You have a unique opportunity here to explore a new country.  Get out there and enjoy it!  Check out the local food, the local wines, the theatres, the museums, the festivals and marketplaces – everything which makes this place unique.  You may never have a chance in your life to do all of this again.  So seize the day!

10. Schedule some time to crash post-tour

You will be tired after a tour, especially if it's a week or longer.  So for the love of God, don't plan an important meeting the day you get back!  Sometimes these things can't be helped.  But if you have any control over your schedule (which freelancers normally do) make sure you have an empty day or two when you get home.  You'll need this time to rest, recover, and tackle that giant mountain of laundry sitting in your suitcase.

"Send help!"

Touring can be a real hoot!  It can also be a gruelling nightmare if you're not careful.  In the end, it all comes down to how you approach it.  So be smart and organised, plan ahead, and try to keep a healthy balance between work and play.

I hope these tips will help you make the most of your next tour.  Happy travels!

Interview with Rory McLeod

Check out Rory's Kickstarter Campaign for Pocket Concerts here.

I first met Rory when I was born.  I wasn't sure what to think of him at first...

Me and Rory, circa 1986

...but over time we grew to be friends as well as siblings.  I'll make no bones of it – I think Rory is awesome, both as an older brother and as a mentor.  Over the last few years our friendship has strengthened over common ground as we've both pursued freelance music careers.  He often provides me with invaluable advice and perspective on my chosen line of work.  A few months ago, as we walked through Toronto's High Park, Rory talked to me about his career path, and his new chamber music series, Pocket Concerts...

Rory McLeod (photo by Bo Huang)

We grew together up in a musical family, but you didn't immediately pursue a musical career.  How did you eventually come to be a professional musician?

When I was 17 and applying for university, like most 17-year-olds, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.  And I hadn't really taken music all that seriously up to that point, so I honestly didn't think of it as a career option.  I applied for bachelor of arts programmes and some arts and science mixed programmes, because I wanted to keep as many doors open as possible, because I had so many different interests.  And then when I was living in Montreal I was paying for my own violin lessons and I just – as I got more and more serious about practising and worked harder at it, over time I realised it was the most interesting and fulfilling and challenging thing in my life, and that was what made it so attractive to me.  So that's when I decided to study music and try to make a career out of it.

You were originally a violinist.  What made you switch to playing the viola?

Alex, our older brother, was a violist.  So I always knew that it was possible to switch from violin to viola.  And I'd always been a bit curious about it, but I didn't really try it until I was 19 and my violin teacher went away for the summer.  I wanted to take some lessons because I had more time than when I was in class, so I called up a viola teacher and borrowed a viola from the shop I was working in, and I really fell in love with the sound.  Then I started playing some chamber music on viola, and I really enjoyed playing the role of violist – the middle voice.  I had always played second violin, so the role of playing viola came naturally to me.

Rory playing his viola (photo by Vuk Pantovic)

When I was living in Montreal, there was this strange and very upsetting event when my violin was stolen from a car.  I thought it was safe and that nobody would see it covered up by a blanket in the back seat, but it got stolen.  And at first I was really upset, of course.  But then eventually the insurance money came through, and I had been playing enough viola at that point that I started to consider maybe I should replace my violin with a viola.  And I started trying out violins and violas, and I discovered that I liked the sound of every viola I tried better than every violin I tried.  So I figured that was probably a sign.

After finishing your musical studies, you got a job with Symphony Nova Scotia.  You left the job after two seasons and came back to Toronto to freelance.  What motivated your decision to leave the orchestra job?

Well there was a combination of factors that led to that decision.  One is that Toronto is home for me.  My girlfriend lives here, and we were doing long-distance for two years, and I was starting to get tired of only seeing Emily once a month.  Also, Halifax is really far away from a lot of other places, and it starts to feel isolated after a while.  The musical community is full of wonderful people there, and the Symphony is a very good orchestra, and I really enjoyed my job.  But the job alone was not enough to keep me there.  So I decided to try my luck in Toronto and keep stretching myself artistically, and have a bit more of a varied career combining chamber music and teaching and orchestra.

And how are you finding it now, working as a freelancer?

Overall it's great.  For the most part I've been pretty steadily employed since I came back.  I've been really lucky with the combination of coming back at a time when work was available, and knowing the right people who could get me that work.  And I'd done well in a couple of auditions – that helped me to secure some orchestra sub work.  The first year I came back I knew by the beginning of the season I would have enough work to survive on, so that was quite a relief.  I had thought it would be much harder than it was, to be honest.  And then over the course of that first year, I started to realise that just subbing in orchestras was not enough for me.  I wanted something that I could connect with more.  I’d always loved playing chamber music and wanted to play more chamber music, and I wanted to find a way to make that happen.  That was when I came up with Pocket Concerts, a home concert series.  I also started teaching during my second year in Toronto, and so now the combination of teaching and running the chamber series and orchestra sub work provides a really good balance of different kinds of work… and it pays the bills!

Tell us about Pocket Concerts.  How did the idea first come up?

Well it started really by doing a couple of house concerts through people that I knew.  I had done a couple of concerts up in Owen Sound through a personal connection, and I went up there with my brother's quartet – the Ton Beau Quartet – and performed a concert there.  And Alex (our brother) and I got talking about how it would be great to make more house concerts happen.  Because we loved playing them so much and we could tell that the audiences loved it as well.

There's sort of a funny story around the beginnings of Pocket Concerts as well.  I was undergoing a steroid treatment for my inflammatory kidney condition.  I was on Prednisone – a high dose of Prednisone – for six months.  One of the side effects of Prednisone is that you become incredibly energetic.  And so I was an insomniac for five months.  Not only was I waking up in the middle of the night, but I was waking up with this feeling that I gotta do something, I need to make something happen.  So I just started sending out emails and brainstorming like crazy.  And I had a lot of face-to-face meetings with people who I thought would be interested in the idea and could help me develop it.  And I spent a lot of sleepless nights sending emails to artists to see if they would be interested in performing, and trying to make connections with potential hosts.

It's been a year now since you started Pocket Concerts, and it's already turned out to be quite a success.  What do you think the appeal is of this concert format?

I think there's a combination of factors that are appealing to people.  The first is that this is really how chamber music was meant to be heard.  Most of these pieces that we play were written to be played among friends in a small room – hence the name "chamber music".  So we're really bringing chamber music back to its roots.  And there's something really authentic about that.  But there are a few other factors as well.  I think there's a movement nowadays back towards live music and live performance, because people have realised that sitting at home and watching videos on YouTube just doesn't give you the same feeling.  But also the involvement of our hosts – by basically asking them to donate their homes and food and wine and chairs for our concert, we're involving them on a much deeper level than we normally do in the classical music world.  It takes away that artificial separation between performers and audience and the people providing the venues.  What we've discovered is that we're building up a community as we go, and those connections last.  People who've hosted become devoted fans of the series.

The audience applauds a Pocket Concert featuring Rory, Rebecca MacLeod (no relation),
and Rory's girlfriend Emily Rho - photo by Vuk Pantovic

How do you see Pocket Concerts fitting into the musical scene in Toronto and in Canada?

I think it has the potential to really change the way that people relate to classical music.  I think people, when they experience chamber music in that intense environment, they feel a deeper connection not just to the music but to the performers and to each other.  And by strengthening that sense of connection, I think we make it possible for people to find a new passion for classical music.  So I see us as part of the overall landscape of the classical music scene in Toronto.  You know, the symphony is there and the opera is there and the ballet is there and we've got many great early music groups and other chamber music series going on – but we're offering something a little bit more personal, and something that might be more appealing to young people who haven't heard a lot of classical music.

What are your future hopes and ambitions for Pocket Concerts?

We have several ideas in the works at the moment.  We'd really like to expand our private concert series, so we're working on a targeted marketing campaign to try to get the word out to our potential customers.  But we're also talking about outreach programmes, one of which is to offer little mini lessons online, called Pocket Lessons.  Three-minute lessons done by our performers, just giving tips on how to practise, how to work on certain technical aspects of their instruments.  And we would offer that as a resource and also as a way for people to find out that we're around.  We're also talking about starting an office concert series.  We'll probably call it something like Pocket Concerts: Music at Work (our tagline now is Music at Home, so it's sort of adaptable).  We want to offer either early morning or noon hour concerts to people in their offices who just want to fit something in to their day.  So we're really trying to incorporate music into people's daily lives.

What one piece of advice would you give to a young freelancing musician?

Say yes.  Say yes to every opportunity that comes your way, and try everything until you find what really resonates with you.  Don't be afraid to take a risk and do something you've never done before.  Because that's how you learn and grow as a person.  And if you have an idea, do it!  If you think something could be great, don’t just sit there and say "wouldn’t it be nice"... Every musician I know has an extensive personal network that can help them if they actually tap into it.  One of the things I've realised while doing Pocket Concerts is that people really want to help you.  If you're passionate about something, it's really easy to get people on board.

Thanks for chatting, Rory!

Tips for Freelancing (Part 3)

Welcome to my third post of freelancing tips!  These are mostly things which I've learned the hard way, "on the job".  I'm posting them here in the hopes that some of you can avoid making the same mistakes.  At the very least, you can enjoy chuckling over my blunders with a mixture of recognition and Schadenfreude.  If you've missed my past posts, you can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

21. Be prepared.

This is one point I have to say I've never struggled with.  I have always been very conscientious about learning my music.  But unfortunately I can't say the same for all of my colleagues.  I have seen people show up at the first rehearsal not knowing a single note of the score.  And it is REALLY annoying.  Any musical endeavour is only as good as its weakest link.  And when someone doesn't know their music, everyone else has to slow down their progress to accommodate them.  This is an extremely unfair burden to place on your colleagues.  Not only is it unprofessional, but it shows a complete lack of consideration and respect for others.  And don't think that your colleagues are the only one who will notice you don't know what you're doing.  The director, the conductor, and any other management present at rehearsals will certainly take note.  You can be sure that no matter how talented you are, they won't want to hire you again.

Scar makes a good point.

22. Dress the part.

I'll never forget my first Messiah.  It was at a cathedral in Paisley.  I wore a beautiful sleeveless sapphire-blue evening gown.  And I almost froze my tits off!  If I had put any thought into my attire (aside from the vanity of wanting to wear a pretty frock) I would have remembered that the Scottish winter is pretty cold, and most churches don't use central heating.  I would have worn thick woolen tights, and a dress with sleeves.  At the very least I would have covered my shoulders with a jacket or a shawl.

Any time you are performing at a new venue, or with a new company, make sure you do your research on what to wear.  Do they have a dress code?  How conservative is the audience?  Are bare shoulders and cleavage frowned upon?  Are women allowed to wear trousers?  And most importantly, how hot or cold are you going to be on stage?  It is essential to dress appropriately if you want to avoid being embarrassed or uncomfortable.

23. Make sure you're on the same page.

Here's another fun anecdote, again from Scotland.  I was hired for my first Vivaldi Gloria.  I immediately got a score from the library, and began preparing my part.  On the day of the concert I made a horrifying discovery: there are two versions of the Vivaldi Gloria, and I had prepared the wrong one.  The edition I had prepared had a considerably shortened version of the duet with the soprano.  We were performing the longer version, and there was a big chunk of music which I had never seen before!  After some panicked photocopying and note-bashing, I managed to get through the concert without disaster.  Needless to say, though, it was not ideal.  This is how I learned I had to check exactly which edition to use.  Don't make the same mistake I did!

24. Check, double-check, and check again.

To Do:
-Make List
-Check Twice

Make sure you're absolutely certain about every last detail.  The repertoire, the fee, the timing of the rehearsals, the address of the venue – anything which risks getting confused or miscommunicated.  Be meticulous about this, and do it well in advance of the gig.  Read and reread any information you've been given.  Make sure there's nothing missing, and if there is something missing, ask.  There is nothing more embarrassing than showing up at the wrong place, or at the wrong time.  There is nothing more uncomfortable than having a misunderstanding with your management about scheduling or money.  So make sure you know everything and are ok with it.  This is what contracts are for.  Which brings us to…

25. Dot your i’s and cross your t’s.

I know, I know.  Paperwork sucks.

"Um... a little help..?"

But most of the time it's there for your sake.  And if you don't pay close attention to it, you could land yourself in deep trouble.  Like any job, freelancing involves important financial and legal considerations.  So get your reading glasses out and protect yourself.  Make sure you're registered for taxes as self-employed.  Educate yourself on which expenses you can claim, and how to prepare and file a tax return.  Get insurance, and if you can, a savings plan.  In Germany we have a wonderful thing called the Künstlersozialkasse (how's that for a mouthful?).  You make monthly payments based on how much you're earning, and in return they pay your health insurance and put money into a pension plan.  This is an invaluable resource for any freelancing musician.  Most importantly, pay careful attention to the paperwork your employers send you.  Any time you get a contract, make sure you understand and agree with everything before signing it.  Remember: you're usually the only one looking out for yourself.

26. You don't have to like everyone, and not everyone has to like you.

This is a hard enough lesson to learn in life, but it's especially painful to acknowledge when it comes to music.  I know we all like to think that music-making is a magical process, and everyone involved is brought together in peace and loving harmony by the beautiful sounds they make.

"Kumbaya my Lord, Kumbaya...."

Let's get real though.  Music attracts all kinds of personalities, including the difficult and unpleasant ones.  Don't get me wrong here.  I hope the majority of your employers and colleagues will be lovely, kind, and friendly people.  I hope you will have lots of things in common, and enjoy each other's company.  But the fact is, not everyone is going to become your new bestie.  In fact, some people might be downright mean to you.  The sooner you learn to accept and cope with this, the better.

27. …But you do have to get along.

You don't have to have go for chummy beers together after rehearsal, but you do have to be civil to each other.  No matter what you might think of someone personally, at the end of the day they still are your colleague.  You have to be able to work with them in a pleasant and respectful way.  And this may not be the last time you work with them.  So stay on good terms.  Don't burn any bridges.

28. Learn to manage your diary.

As a freelancer, your diary can look pretty crazy – especially in December.

What the Christmas season looks like for most of us.

But until you get your own management or can afford a personal assistant (sure, that'll be the day) managing your diary is up to you.  Before you accept another gig, take a good long look at your calendar.  Are you sure you're not double-booking yourself?  Are you sure you're not taking too much on?  Think twice before accepting new commitments.  As for the time between gigs, that's important to manage too.  You'll likely have a long to-do list and a lot of unstructured time in which to tackle it.  Learn to prioritise.  What's urgent?  What's important?  What can wait a bit?  Pay attention to your energy at different points of the day, and try to schedule your work accordingly.  Ideally you would want to do your practising when you're feeling the most energetic and focused. You can save your paperwork and emails for when you're feeling more mellow.

29. Know Yourself

Everyone is always talking about how you have to "sell yourself" in this business.  But how can you sell yourself if you don't know what it is you're selling?  Before you start "getting yourself out there" – auditioning, building a website, networking with prospective employers and so forth – you have to do some soul-searching and answer a few important questions.  What are your unique talents and skills?  What kind of musical and performing personality do you have?  What kind of repertoire suits you best and why?  What kind of work do you want to do?  Your answers to these questions will inform a lot of decisions, such as how you market yourself and who you audition for.  It will also help you feel more focused and confident as you continue to build a career.

30. Add some strings to your bow.

Very few musicians make a living doing just one thing.  It's tough out there, and work is hard to come by.  So if you are going around looking only for work as a concert pianist, you are narrowing your possibilities considerably.  How about being a concert pianist who also accompanies, teaches private lessons, and composes arrangements for their own ensemble?  Now we're talking.  Everyone has their own variety of skills and talents.  So find out what else you can do well, and capitalise on that!  The more diverse your skills, the better your chances of survival.

The most important thing to remember?  Freelancing is a tough business.  And despite all the anecdotes and tips I've tried to share with you on here, you will probably make your own unique set of mistakes.  Don't sweat it too much.  Mistakes are normal.  Just make sure you learn your lesson and move on!

Tips for Freelancing (Part 2)

And we're back, with more tips for freelancing!  If you missed Part 1, you can find it here.  Trust me when I say, I've learned each and every one of these from personal experience.

11. Respect your elders.

It seems these days the music industry is getting more and more age-ist.  Everyone is fascinated with the emerging artists, the rising stars.  The newest and hottest young people to hit the scene.  Whatever happened to the respect and awe we used to hold for experienced professionals?  The truth is that older musicians have a LOT to teach you.  They've been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt.  And if you take the time to listen, they'll have some amazing advice and anecdotes to share.  Don't write someone off because their age doesn't begin with 2 or 3.  They may become an amazing friend and mentor for you.

Pierre here could teach you a thing or two about the accordion.
Also, beards and looking stern.

12. Be curious.

When I'm chatting with a friendly colleague, I always try asking what they've been up to lately, and what's coming up next.  Oh, who's the conductor for that again?  And how might I get in touch with them?  This can be one of the best ways to find new professional contacts and eventually get more work.

13. ….But know where to draw the line.

At the same time, you can't expect your colleagues to spoonfeed a career to you.  Some people can be incredibly generous and forthcoming with their information.  But even the most helpful colleague will have their limits.  If a colleague feels like you're just using them for all their contacts and tips, they'll get fed up with it pretty quickly.  Nobody is going to begrudge you a couple of email addresses and tips, but you can't expect them to hand you all of your work on a platter.  You have to do some of the research yourself.  Why would you want to copy their career anyway?  It's their career, something they've tailored over the years to suit their particular skills, talents, and personality.  If you want to be a happy freelancer, you have to build up a combination of work which is right for you.  You have to find your own way.

Back off!  Get your own career.

14. Choose your projects wisely.

One of the toughest freelancing dilemmas is when you get offered two different contracts which conflict with each other.  Sometimes you can negotiate with both parties and find a way to do both.  But usually you're faced with a difficult decision.  Which project to choose?  As someone notoriously bad at decision-making, I know just how stressful this can be.  When faced with a choice like this, I often spend ages agonising over my options and their various pros and cons.  (Seriously, just ask my friends).  There are a lot of factors to consider.  Obviously money is important, but it isn't always the tipping point.  One project might pay less, but still offer a unique and career-building experience – for example, the chance to sing an important role, or work with a well-respected mentor, or perform for important agents and managers.  Perhaps this is a project you know you would really enjoy, because you would get the chance to work with great colleagues, or travel to a country you've never seen before.  In the end you always have to decide what is best for you, right now, at this point in your career.  Is it time to think of your long-term career trajectory, and invest in some professional development?  Can you afford to earn less in the name of fun?  Or is it time to buckle down and do some (perhaps less glamorous) work, so you can pay the bills?

Decisions, decisions...

15. Honour your commitments.

Once you've made your decision, stick with it.  It's important to stay on good terms with an employer, even if you don't think you'll work with them again.  And nobody likes getting the shaft – especially at the last minute.  Sure, sometimes cancelling is unavoidable.  Illness, accidents, family emergencies – these are all justifiable reasons to cancel.  But if you're given the choice, you should always opt to be a loyal and reliable artist.  You can only back out of so many contracts before you start getting a bad reputation.  People talk.  What they'll say is up to you.

16. Pay your dues.

I see a lot of young singers coming out of music college with big heads and starry eyes, thinking they're going to be the Next Big Thing.  And who knows?  Maybe they will.  But they're probably not going to get the big contracts right away.  Everyone has to start somewhere, right?  A lot of the work you do at the beginning of your career will be exhausting, boring, and badly compensated.  It sucks.  I know.  But have courage – you're just at the bottom rung of the ladder right now.  If you do a good job and behave professionally, you'll be on your way up in no time!

Time to get climbing!

17. …But know your worth.

When I arrived in Germany, I accepted some work for very low pay, only to find out that colleagues of the same age and level of experience had negotiated up to a considerably high fee.  Now every time I work for these organisations they'll expect me to be ok working for peanuts.  Why did I agree to work for so little?  I'm a well-educated, well-trained musician with valuable skills to contribute.  And I need to pay my bills just like everyone else!  I've learned this lesson the hard way.  Negotiating fees is a tricky task, but you need to learn to advocate for yourself if you want to pay rent.

18. Keep the big picture in mind.

The problem with gigging around is that it can make you a bit myopic.  You only focus as far as today's rehearsal, or perhaps next weekend's concert.  But what about the bigger goals?  What do you want to accomplish as a musician this year, this decade, this lifetime?  How do you want to build your career?  How do you want to express yourself as a performer?  How do you want to grow as an artist?  If you don't keep thinking about these big questions, you won't have any direction.  Before you know it your whole career will have flown by, and you won't have accomplished half the things you wanted to.

"Remember: we're going THAT way!"

19. Keep getting better.

I know this sounds obvious, but when you're going from one rehearsal to the next, it's easy to get lazy and complacent about your technique.  Maybe you forget to warm up today, or don't bother scheduling a lesson for next week.  Before you know it your sound has gone down the toilet and nobody wants to hire you anymore.  Never take your technique for granted!  You should always be trying to build and maintain it.  After all, that's what's great about being a musician, isn't it?  You never stop growing.  So even if you have a super-busy day, try to take at least 20 minutes to do some technical work and make sure everything is working as it should.  Take pride in always striving to be the best you can be.

20. Fuel your passion.

Sometimes a freelancer gets stuck in a rut.  Shuffling from project to project, never really doing anything they care about.  Everything they do is for money and nothing else.  Not because they love the music, not because they enjoy working with the conductor – only because they need to earn some cash.  This is an incredible demoralising way to work, and if you're not careful it can turn you into a bitter, jaded, and passionless musician.  Ok, so life is not a fairytale.  Sometimes we have to do work that's just that – work.  But we also need to do things which inspire us, which drive us, which feed our musical soul.  Otherwise we may forget what made us choose music in the first place!  So make an effort, on a regular basis, to do a project which really matters to you as an artist.  You may not be able to make money from it.  You may have to set up the whole concert yourself, from the marketing to the venue and reception.  But it will pay off in the long run, because you will be a passionate and inspired artist.  Keep nourishing your love of music and reminding yourself why you do what you do.

Fill 'er up!

I'll be posting more tips soon.  In the meantime, good luck and happy gigging!

Tips for Freelancing (Part 1)

I'm still pretty new to the whole freelancing game.  In no way would I consider myself an expert on how to do it successfully.  However, I have been freelancing for just under five years now.  And that's enough time to make some significant mistakes.

There are a lot of important things which nobody tells you in school about being a freelance musician.  And so, over the last few years, I've often had to learn things the hard way - through screwing up, falling on my face, and generally being an awkward turtle.

But fear not!  You don't have to learn things the way I did.  I've decided to compile a list of freelancing tips, based on what I've learned through trial and error.  Think of these as the ground rules for gigging.  I originally intended this to be one post, but as it turns out, I have a lot to say on the subject.  So let's begin now with part one of... well, many.

1. Don’t just be on time, be early!

Especially if you're travelling to a new venue.  Many are the times I've found myself running around in a confused panic, searching for a church or a concert hall in an unfamiliar neighbourhood.  

"Where is the venue??  WHERE IS THE VENUUUUE????!!!!"

Granted, I have a terrible sense of direction.  But even if you were born with an infallible built-in GPS, it's always a good idea to leave in plenty of time before the rehearsal or performance begins.  Expect the unexpected – leave extra time in case there's a delay on the train or bad traffic, or, yes, in case you get lost.  Even if there are no delays, it's always good to have a nice window of time between arriving at the venue and beginning to sing.  This way you can get your bearings and relax a bit.  Nobody works well when they're feeling rushed, disoriented, or stressed out.

2. Leave your problems outside of the venue.

Whether you're annoyed with your landlord or just had a fight with your wife, your colleagues don't want to know about it.  Sure, artists are emotional creatures.  But if you want to be a professional artist, you need to learn to control when, where, and how you vent your feelings.  Your personal life and your changing moods should not affect the quality of your work.  Your problems should not become your coworkers' problems.  Work on maintaining a pleasant and professional attitude, no matter what you may be feeling on a given day.

3. Never take any work for granted.

It's a great feeling when someone is hiring you on a regular basis.  Congratulations – they like you!  But unless you're on a full-time, permanent contract with them, you should never assume that they will continue to call you for every gig.  I hate to break it to you, but as a freelancer, you should always feel at least a little bit insecure about your work.  This means you should always aim to impress with your musicianship and professionalism, and remind people why you're the best for the job.  It also means you should always be hustling for new work.  Remember: complacency is the enemy.

4. Watch your money.

Probably the hardest thing about being a freelancer is the cashflow.  One month you might make thousands, and the next month might be a big fat goose-egg.  In the meantime, most employers expect you to pay your own travel costs up front.  And as a younger musician you'll be investing a lot of your earnings back into your career with things like lessons, recordings, website building, and travel to auditions.  You have to spend money to make money.  So it's important to learn to be careful with your cash.  Always be looking ahead.  If this month is more lucrative than the next one, try to pinch your pennies while you can.  You may find yourself eating ramen noodles while you desperately await your next paycheque, only to spend it all at once in a rush of relief and euphoria when it finally arrives.  It's a dangerous financial trap to fall into.  But with some planning and budgeting, you should be able to stay on a more even keel.

Don't do this on payday.

5. Keep it respectful.

This goes without saying when you're dealing with other professionals.  But I would say it's especially important when you're helping out at an amateur gig.  Maybe these people aren't as musically educated or sophisticated as you are.  Maybe they're out of tune and can't count to save their life.  But while this is just another gig to you, it probable means the world to them.  Chances are they've been rehearsing for this concert for months, and it's the big musical event of their season.  So please, have some respect.  Don't make snide, snobby remarks or give exasperated sighs at their mistakes.  These people are making music for the joy of it, to connect with people in their community.  Can you imagine a cause more noble than that?  Amateur musicians deserve your respect just as much as professionals – if not more.

6. Be nice to your management.

I've often seen animosity develop between artists and management, and it can create a very unpleasant atmosphere.  Most of the time this comes from misunderstanding and a lack of empathy on both sides.  From the artists' side, I'd say it's important for us to remember that people in arts administration often deal with an enormous workload, long hours, and a high-pressure work environment – and all for very poor money.  They care a lot about their job, and they are doing their best to take care of the musicians.  Perhaps you're annoyed with a mistake they made in your paperwork.  But while you are only dealing with your own paperwork, they're dealing with the paperwork for all the musicians involved in this project.  So when communicating with your management, try to come from a place of compassion and understanding.  Always give them the benefit of the doubt.

7. Take responsibility for yourself.

As a freelancer, you are your own boss.  This means that nobody else is going to motivate you, hold you to task on important goals, or keep you on any kind of regular schedule.  It all comes down to you.  So man up and take charge.  Be proactive.  Be disciplined.  Be the captain of your own ship.

If you want to feel like a real bad-ass, pretend it's a pirate ship.

8. Take care of yourself.

Your well-being is your livelihood.  So do whatever is necessary to make sure you're happy, healthy, and in good singing/playing form.  Eat good nutritious food, get plenty of sleep, and don't forget regular exercise.  It's extremely important for you to be in good physical shape.  After all, performing is very physical work.  You need good breath support and muscle control, as well as the ability to move well on stage.  But beyond that, you'll find that being fit just helps you feel good. I joined a gym a couple of months ago, and it's been a real revelation.  I find that I have more strength and energy in my day-to-day life.  Travelling is much easier – I bounce back more quickly from long journeys and jetlag.  Furthermore, going to the gym adds a bit of structure to my routine – which tends to be pretty chaotic most of the time.  If you need more good reasons to exercise, check out my post about it here.

Let's get physical!

9. Rest when you need it.

I get it.  You're young and ambitious and you want to do everything NOW.  But taking days off is an important part of your practice.  If you don't have the discipline to not practise right now, you may run into serious physical and technical problems in the next few years.  I try to have one non-singing day every week.  This is not always possible, but I find it's a good guideline to aim for.  Regular rest is essential if you want to stay in top form.

10. Get a life.

I always hear people say "music is my life", as if it's something to be proud of.  But if music really is your life, you're setting yourself up for trouble.  You can't let all your happiness depend on one thing.  You need other dimensions to your life in order to feel balanced and fulfilled.  Get a hobby.  Join a club.  Buy a pet.  Or just make friends with people who aren't musicians.  Anything that adds to your life and isn't connected to your music will make you a happier, healthier, and more well-rounded person.

That's all for now.  Stay tuned for more tips soon!

Lucerne Festival - Week 3

Our third week in Lucerne has been nothing short of unforgettable.

We began the week by moving into the concert venue, and meeting our new friends in the orchestra.  On Monday we watched as they did a read-through of the piece, and put us all to shame.  I can't imagine the choir being able to hold the piece together so well on our first day.  We had a full week of sectionals before we even sang together as a full choir!  We were all very impressed by the orchestra, and excited to join them for the first tutti rehearsal.

The Culture and Congress Centre Lucerne, or KKL - home to the Lucerne Festival.

Next it was time for us all to meet our instrument "siblings".  Instead of sitting separately from the orchestra as usual, in Coro the choir sits in the orchestra.  Every singer is paired with an instrument, or "spirit animal" as my friend liked to call it.  This instrument plays alongside you for the whole piece, sometimes in unison, and sometimes embellishing or harmonising with your part.  I was paired with a clarinet, as was my neighbour.  It was somewhat disorienting to go from singing in a choir to sitting in the middle of the orchestra.  I was used to hearing the other altos.  Suddenly all I could hear around me were clarinets and alto saxophone!

Actually, most of the time the orchestra made things much easier for us.  Our instrumental siblings' parts were cleverly written, so that they would often give us our notes.  No more trying to pluck random pitches from thin air!  My tuning fork wasn't such a desperate necessity anymore – still, I liked having it around at all times.  It was something like a security blanket, lying by my side just in case.

"It's ok.  Tuney will keep me safe."

Then again, there were also passages where the orchestra was playing completely different rhythms or notes from the choir.  At times like this you had to be extremely confident with your part –  watch the conductor like a hawk, and just keep plowing ahead.

Speaking of conductors, we were lucky enough to have a great captain at the helm of our crazy ship.  Sir Simon Rattle always kept the rehearsals fun and full of entertainment.  We were all surprised by how human he was.  Despite his fame, he was no diva conductor in an ivory tower.  He was an extremely charming and personable man, and eminently quotable.  We all enjoyed sharing his little quips over facebook and twitter.  In fact if you look up the hashtag "sirsimonsays" you might find a few gems which we heard from him this week.

Sir Rattle made sure that we did a run-through of the piece in each rehearsal.  At first I didn't understand the point of this – surely it wasted a lot of time we should be spending on fixing mistakes and going over the tricky bits?  But after a while I began to see the value of these run-throughs.  Each time we did the whole piece in one go, it held closer together as a whole.  We became familiar with the piece's rhythm and shape.  We knew how each part flowed into the next.  When we had to be on tenterhooks for the next movement, and when we could look forward to a well-earned rest.  With each run-through, we gained a bit of confidence, and the final performance became a bit less daunting.

When you're singing for such a prominent conductor, you tend to take every little thing he says to heart.  One time the Maestro critiqued my English diction, and I was beating myself up about it all day.  Another time I was singing a folky French solo, and he wanted it to sound more dirty.  "You sound like you washed this morning," he said, "and we don’t want that."  I seriously considered not showering for a week, just to please him.  Then again, I don't think my colleagues would have appreciated that.

"WHAT??!  I'm doing this for the sake of art!!"

Between rehearsals, we had the privilege of attending some amazing concerts with world class artists.  Now that the festival had begun in earnest, we regularly had opportunities to hear artists such as Midori or Lang Lang performing live.  Evenings often saw us lining up for last-minute discount tickets, as we tried to soak up as much of the festival as we could.

Before we knew it, the final performance was upon us.  We prepared a free lecture concert, a sort of "aperitif" for anyone interested in hearing the full piece the following day.  The hall filled up very quickly with curious concertgoers.  Some people even had to be turned away at the door.  Sir Rattle spoke to the audience with ease and charm.  He was particularly enamoured with the beanbag chairs in the front row, which he suggested introducing to the Berlin Phil.

BEANBAG CHAIRS FOR ALL!!!!

As the day of the performance arrived, we were all beginning to feel the pressure.  The first half of the concert would also include a world premiere by Korean composer Unsuk Chin, sung by Barbara Hannigan.  Talia Berio, musicologist and second wife of the late Luciano Berio, would be attending.  And we would have the longest list of attending press which the Festival Academy had ever seen.  Coro is a rarely performed piece which has never been heard at Lucerne Festival before.  The piece is notoriously difficult.  Everyone was curious to see how we – and of course, Simon Rattle – interpreted the music.

When we finally walked onstage in the second half of the concert, the air was electric with excitement.  We were all bundles of nervous energy.  But after so many run-throughs and rehearsals, together we felt strong and confident.  We harnessed all our adrenaline and nerves and gave our very best performance.  It was truly a magical hour.

As an encore, at Sir Rattle's suggestion, we sang Purcell’s "Hear my prayer o Lord".  It made a soulful, reflective epilogue to the concert, and contrasted starkly with Berio's intense, chaotic piece, which Rattle had described to us as a "21^st century version of a Bach passion."

Finally, after all our hard work, it was time to let our hair down.  We were all invited to an afterparty at a nearby hotel with cheap (for Switzerland at least) drinks.  Even the Maestro attended, and those of us who hadn't yet had the chance queued up to get our "Simon selfie".

My Simon selfie, complete with awestruck onlooker.

It's always difficult after a project like this to say goodbye to so many lovely colleagues from around the world.  We've become very attached to each other over the past three weeks, bonding as an ensemble and as friends.  It's hard to believe that this is the end, that we'll never see each other again.  Which is why I always like to say "see you soon".  After all, the music world is so small, it's quite likely that I will.  And even if I won't, it's a comforting thought, isn't it?  Easier than thinking this is goodbye forever.

The choir has now scattered around the globe to their respective homes.  Only nine of us have stayed behind to do a week of masterclasses with Barbara Hannigan.  We miss our Coro ensemble, and the comeraderie which we shared as we tackled this crazy piece together.  A piece which once seemed so terrifying, and is now a fond memory for us all.  We may move on to new pieces, new challenges, but Berio's melodies will surely be haunting us for years to come.  

Lucerne Festival - Week 2

It's my second week in Lucerne, and – rainy weather aside – things are beginning to heat up.  The choir has now had five days of tutti rehearsals.  Which may sound like much, but actually felt like getting hit with a ton of bricks.  Although the rehearsals only lasted half the day, they were extremely intense and demanding.  What with forty different voice parts singing rhythmically challenging and not-so-tonal music, there was a lot going on.  It's hard to explain exactly how it felt to be in the middle of it all.  But I'll try anyway.

In the beginning, there was nothing for us to do but take the plunge.  So we just started singing - jumped right into the madness, and prayed to God we would come out safely on the other side.

AHHHHHH!!!!!!

Usually, in choral music, you can rely a bit on your neighbours if you get lost.  Drifted off a bit?  Not to worry.  The alto next door will set you straight.  But in Berio's Coro there is no such option.  Everyone is responsible for their own line.  If you're lost, you're lost, and there's nothing anyone can do to help you.  It's every man for himself.

So we all sat there, our faces screwed up with concentration, and desperately tried to hold everything together.  In a piece like this, simply making sure things don't fall apart can feel like a major accomplishment.  Ideally, you want to end up on the right note.  At the very least, you hope that you'll be at the right bar number.

I'm pretty sure we all look like this for most of the piece.

When you're singing this kind of music, you need some serious help getting your notes.  As I mentioned before, singers are used to reading a piano-vocal score and being able to see the full musical picture.  This is because most of us can't pick our notes out of thin air.  We need to hear our notes in our head before singing them, and for this we rely largely on relative pitch.  Normally you have a simple frame of reference for your note – perhaps it's a perfect fourth up from what the cello plays.  But in a piece like Coro, finding your note is not so easy.  There's so much going on – and most of it very dissonant – that finding your pitch can be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Enter your new best friend: the tuning fork.

I call him "Tuney" for short.

We've all been provided with tuning forks that play an A442.  Yes, I know.  Controversial.  Most of you are probably used to A440 (or 415 for the Baroquers out there).  But I promise, it's really not a big difference.  Unless you have super-duper-uber-perfectamundo pitch, you probably won't even hear the difference.  It might feel ever so slightly higher.  But then again, does it really feel higher, or is that only because you know it's higher?

Anyway, we've all become pretty attached to our tuning forks.  If you watch a rehearsal, you can see when we're approaching a difficult passage because we all have tuning forks glued to our ears.  I'm on extremely intimate terms with my tuning fork these days.  I'm considering having it surgically implanted into my ear, to save a lot of hassle.

Tuning forks can serve multiple purposes.  I often use mine to stir my coffee.  Not because I'm being eccentric or anything.  Only because we have no spoons.  Some people worry that the heat of the coffee might affect the pitch of the tuning fork, but so far I haven't noticed a difference.

Although perhaps my coffee tastes a bit sharp.

Many of my colleagues, of course, don't struggle so much with finding notes.  There is an extremely high standard of musicianship here.  I'm used to being considered a very good musician (for a singer, at least).  But it's all relative, isn't it?  Within the context of this group, my skills are probably average at best.  My pitch is passable and my rhythm is just shy of atrocious.  I'm continually humbled by everyone else's cleverness.

Some of the singers here are incredibly passionate about new music.  I'm no new music specialist myself – at most, I dabble.  But for these guys, new music is a lifestyle, a religion, a dedicated path.  It's inspiring to see people feel so strongly about something.

It also ups the ante in the geekery stakes.  I mean, I used to think I was a real music geek.  But after hearing people wax poetic about polyrhythms and spectral-ism (still not entirely sure what that is) – I think I might actually be pretty normal.

While the rehearsals require a lot of concentration and musicianship, they're also extremely demanding vocally.  It wasn't until our first run-through that I realised just how tiring the whole piece is.  It's almost a full hour of singing, and it uses every single inch of my voice.  I have to sing in every possible way, in every part of my range.  Chest voice, head voice, vibrato, no vibrato, high notes, low notes – you name it, I sing it.  It's a real test of technique and vocal endurance.  I'm not sure which part I love to hate more.  There's the bit where I have to sustain pianissimo notes right in the middle of my passaggio.  Or there's the bit where I have to sing staccato high A's on "ee".

We call that bit "the monkey chorus".

Between rehearsals, we've had time to explore Lucerne's beautiful landscape, whether from the streets, in a paddle boat, or on top of a hill.  On an unusually sunny free day, some people chose to wake up early and climb the infamous Pilatus.  I opted instead for a lie-in, and joined some friends for a less ambitious hike later in the day.  We didn't reach the top of anything, but we met some very lovely cows.

Our hiking selfie, or "helfie".
Yes, I am wearing a sweater on my head.

In our free time we've also been hanging out with our host families, familiarising ourselves with Swiss culture.  One thing we've all noticed is that the Swiss are extremely particular.  I mean, I thought the Germans could fuss over little details.  But the Swiss bring this to a whole new level!  You probably think you know how to boil an egg, open a window, or make a cup of coffee.  Well, let me tell you something.  You've been doing it all wrong.  And somewhere out there is an old Swiss lady who's just dying to set you straight.

They also have a rather odd sense of humour.  The other day I came home, took a bottle of beer from the fridge and sat on the sofa to watch some TV.  Perfectly normal behaviour, right?  When my hosts came home and saw me, they began laughing uncontrollably.  They've been making joking references to the incident ever since.  I'm still trying to figure out what was so hilarious.  Should I have poured the beer into a glass?  Was I not supposed to drink alone?  Or did I just happen to conform perfectly with some cartoon image they had of a stereotypical "American"?  I may never know.

I say this with affection of course.  Eccentricities aside, our hosts have given us a warm welcome, and I'm more than grateful for their hospitality.

I'll just say one more thing about Swiss culture: they take their card games very seriously.  In fact there's one game which they broadcast on TV, like a football match.  Except instead of a stadium of spectators, they have an audience sitting at wooden picnic tables with bottles of wine.  Every time someone does well they shout and blow horns and thump the tables.  I'm not even joking.  This is an actual thing.

The cards look like this, and apparently they're very exciting.

On Friday night the festival kicked off in earnest.  As members of the academy, we were offered discount tickets to the opening concert, a beautiful programme of Brahms.  We had been told to dress "elegantly" for the concerts – no jeans or flip flops please – so we all made a bit of an effort.  But nothing could have prepared us for the sparkling glamour that awaited us.  All the brightest stars of classical music and high Swiss society were there, gliding around the KKL in stiletto heels.  The dress code "elegant" had been a massive understatement.  Tuxes and evening gowns were the order of the day.  I couldn't help feeling a bit scruffy in my leggings and H&M dress.

The concert itself was fantastic.  After a week of intense rehearsals, it was such a pleasure to sit back and listen to some beautiful music.  Not that the Berio isn't beautiful.  But you see, I never really get the chance to sit back and appreciate the Berio.  I'm always too busy holding on for dear life and praying I won't miss my next entry.

We've finished the choir-only phase of rehearsals, and now the orchestra academy has arrived.  Yesterday we met them all at an official welcome event.  At the reception, between glasses of wine, we even caught glimpses of the man himself.  It's funny, you know.  He seems like such an ordinary man.  It's just that he happens to be Simon Rattle.

Anyway, I'll have to get over that whole star-struck thing, as we're rehearsing with him tonight.  The concert is on Saturday, which feels frighteningly close.  But judging from what we've accomplished in the first two weeks, I have high hopes for the third.