I’m watching a trio of men with commercial leaf blowers working to make sure a neighbor’s lawn is utterly devoid of fall leaves. From 100 yards away, the sound drowns out all other background noises.
Now, I don’t hold with those who say leave the leaves, because I don’t want to start next spring with a dead lawn. But I also don’t feel like the scorched earth (and dreadfully noisy) approach is really necessary. An hour with my family and some rakes did a pretty good job on our lawn last weekend, without any noise or gas. There are a few leaves left, and that’s fine. It’s not about some platonic ideal of protection.
That, in a nutshell, is my approach to leading choirs, too. I liken those noisy commercial operations to the kind of leader who rules autocratically and wrings every last drop out of rehearsal. Laughter isn’t heard, side chatter is shamed, and anything less than perfection is criticized.
On the other extreme is the choral leader who is willing to let anything go, for the sake of the community. If the performances are just okay, they are fine with that because it’s more about the friendships you made along the way. Isn’t that like the lawns left covered, with the grass suffocating underneath wet leaves?
There’s a middle path of leadership: aim for excellence, but let things slide. Get the job done, and done well, without resorting to yelling and other noise. Have fun while you’re doing it: build connections, and still put the music first.
There’s room for all kinds of leaders and all kinds of lawns. But make sure you’re making the choice you want to make.