Taking ownership

Last week I made my debut with the Cleveland Orchestra.

For those of you familiar with the orchestra scene, you’ll know that the Cleveland Orchestra, along with the Boston Symphony, Chicago Symphony, New York Philharmonic and the Philadelphia Orchestra, are one of the Big Five – historically the largest and most prestigious ensembles in the country.

They were, as expected, fantastic, and it was an immense pleasure working with them. During the break between dress rehearsal and concert at the Blossom Music Center I was chatting with one of the musicians about the variety of music which takes me all over the world, and he asked me, unironically, if I was living my dream life.

I laughed it off and said something along the lines of “Now that I’ve worked with the Cleveland Orchestra, yes!”. But since returning home I’ve been thinking about my casual dismissal of what was actually a serious question about what I’ve achieved in my career.

When I look at my upcoming season, my schedule (which will continue to fill over the next 6 months) both delights and overwhelms me. And when I look at it as an amalgam, it’s easy to see it as just that; a bunch of bookings doing various concerts with various orchestra, generally 3 times a month (sometimes more, occasionally less).  Taken as a whole, it’s my job, it’s work, it’s what I do and what I (mostly) enjoy doing.

But I’m less able to acknowledge that I’m fortunate to be in demand so much, or that the orchestras I work with are amongst the best in the country (and more often these days, the world). When I say “fortunate” I don’t mean lucky – I’ve certainly worked hard enough and made the difficult musical choices to put myself on the path of success – but rather that it’s a good place to be.  And although I’ve certainly had support and encouragement from friends and family, it is a career path that I’ve crafted for myself.

I’ve always had a difficult time taking true ownership of my success (and I’ve sometimes wondered if gender plays into it). I’m more likely to downplay my achievements – “I’m just happy to be a working conductor!” – and feel like there is always more to accomplish, like there is something lacking.  On one hand this sense of not-enoughness drives me on to achieve more, but on the other it leaves me without the pleasure of feeling the satisfaction of what I’ve already done and the wonderful place it has brought me.

So I’m grateful for that question on that balmy afternoon backstage at Blossom.  It reminded me to duly acknowledge my own accomplishments to myself, and to feel rightfully proud of what I’ve been able to do. Part of moving forward is taking ownership of past and present, something I all too frequently forget.

So in the spirit of taking ownership, I have to admit I’m pretty pleased that as of last week I’ve conducted 4 of the Big Five orchestras.  New York Phil, here’s looking at you…