“Who wants to sail on a skipperless ship?” (71)
A skipperless ship is not something most choral gatherings need to worry about – indeed, conductors are very accustomed to being the skippers of their ships. That said, I know I’m often motivated to be a “chill” leader in my rehearsals – with the intent to encourage ownership in my students, but with the effect of sometimes having a lack of direction in rehearsal. As Parker says, “‘Chill’ is selfishness defined as kindness.” (71)
Parker makes a compelling argument to accept and use your power as a teacher and conductor. As she says, “Abdication often fails guests rather than serves them.” (74) If that isn’t clear enough, listen to this: “When you fail to govern, you may be elevating how you want them to perceive you over how you want the gathering to go for them. Often, chill is you caring about you masquerading as you caring about them.” (74)
One of the problems with not using your power as a conductor is that you don’t just eliminate power from the room. “This pulling-back, far from purging a gathering of power, creates a vacuum that others can fill.” (74) Have you ever had a student fill a power vacuum, thus undermining the purpose you’ve set for an ensemble? I sure have.
As she later describes Ronald Heifitz’s first class in his leadership course, “You don’t eradicate power. You just hand the opportunity to someone else–in this case, the students. You are not easing their way or setting them free. You are pumping them full of confusion and anxiety.” (76-77) This draws a connection with Brené Brown’s Dare To Lead, and her mantra “clear is kind, unclear is unkind.”
There are three kinds of leadership Parker defines in this chapter: ungenerous anarchy (aka chill), ungenerous authority, and generous authority.
Ungenerous authority is “the sin of […] controlling people for his or her own sake.” (101) It’s the archetypal “old-school band director.” It’s ruling with an iron fist not out of a care for supporting the group, but for any of a number of ego-based reasons. Parker says, “The host most likely to succumb to ungenerous authority is the one who fears losing control.” (101) For a long time I thought those ungenerous anarchy or ungenerous authority were my only choices, and I was uninterested in choosing ungenerous authority. I didn’t consider the third, best approach: Generous authority.
Generous authority “is not a pose. It’s not the appearance of power. It is using power to achieve outcomes that are generous, that are for others. The authority is justified by the generosity.” (82)
Generous authority is defined by three goals:
- Protect your guests “…from one another, or from boredom, or from the addictive technologies that lurk in our pockets.” (83) This is hard for the generous conductor, because it might require redirecting members of the group, and “the anger of the shushed is concentrated, while the gratitude of the protected is diffuse.” (85)You simply have to understand the purpose of the gathering, and protect the singers accordingly. It’s the act of “anticipating and intercepting people’s tendencies when they’re not considering the betterment of the whole of the group or the experience.” (86)
- Equalize your guests. “Most gatherings benefit from guests leaving their titles and degrees at the door. However, the coat check for their pretenses is you. If you don’t hang them up, no one else will.” (97) Choirs definitely benefit from equalization, and I include the conductor in that equalization. I try to emphasize to my students that we are on a joint expedition of discovery, and that no one in the room holds all the knowledge or musicality.
- Connect your guests. “One measure of a successful gathering is that it starts off with a higher number of host-guest connections than guest-guest connections and ends with those tallies reversed, in the guest-guest favor.” (92) As Parker points out, “Connection doesn’t happen on its own. You have to design your gatherings for the kinds of connections you want to create.” (94) For me, a choir should prioritize trust because trust is essential for making great music, but also because I love the way lasting connections are built in my choirs – connections that end in lifelong friendships, being groomsmen in weddings, and so on. On the first rehearsal, there is often more connection with me than with the other singers – after all, everyone interacted with me at their audition – but with intention that is quickly flipped.
In prioritizing protection, equalization, and connection, I’ve thought about ways to adjust my day-to-day rehearsals.
- Use multiple seating arrangements in each rehearsal, so that singers are situated to build connection.
- Accept and even encourage connection-building side conversations, so long as they don’t detract from the motion of the rehearsal. (This can be done through careful purpose-setting with the group and reminders.)
- Appoint a social chair for the ensemble, who is responsible for organizing regular non-rehearsal get-togethers. Sleepovers, or laser-tag, or any other fun activity that builds connection. As a conductor, I don’t need to be there. Indeed, it’s better if I’m not, because we want to prioritize singer-singer connections, not conductor-singer ones.
- If it were earlier in the summer, I’d be setting up mini-groups and doing a team Road Rally or other scavenger hunt, forming small groups of singers that don’t know each other well.
As I said before, my impulse is to be a “chill” host, because I don’t want to be an ungenerous authority. Parker’s chapter is a great reminder of that third way – the way to be generous, positive, and supportive of the members of the gathering/ensemble. Some of my favorite conductors have found this way – like Lin-Manuel Miranda, they “have no chill”…but also like Miranda, they put nonstop positivity into the places they find themselves. That’s an example of hosting/leading/conducting that I want to emulate.