How to know if you’re a successful musician
Wealth. Power. Fame. This is the traditional American definition of success. How-to articles and books offer advice on how to win at every stage of life—from childhood, when we’re pressured to be in advanced placement classes, play competitive sports (or competitive piano), and get top grades—to teenage years when we’re told we must get degrees from Ivy League colleges and go to impressive graduate schools. Adulthood only increases the pressure; we’re told that to be successful, we must land well-paying jobs, shoot to the top of our professions, achieve fame and fortune, marry an equally-successful spouse, raise successful children, and keep the shape and face of a 20 year old. Even old age isn’t free from the pressure of success; now, multiple authors offer advice on how to “age successfully” (and unsuccessful aging would be, um, death?) Is it any wonder that many people feel stressed-out and overwhelmed?
One of the biggest challenges musicians face is finding their footing in a society obsessed with this definition of success. Our industry is notoriously fickle and the proverbial brass ring is only available to a talented and lucky few. What about the hundreds of thousands of gifted musicians working today? If they aren’t a “A-list” players, does that mean that they’re failures? If not, what, then, does it mean to be a successful musician? Because if it’s fame and fortune, then most musicians throughout history are failures. All the hard-working teachers and mid-level performers? Failures. People who have never won a major competition? Failures. Anyone who isn’t one of the top 20 performers on the planet? Failures. This may seem ridiculous, but how many of us have absorbed this poison, even unconsciously? It seeps into our music, it robs us of job satisfaction, and negates much of the joy of being part of the noble society of people who have surrendered their hearts and their lives to the pursuit of musical artistry.
How do we know that we’re trapped in the toxic mirage of success? When we hear ourselves say, “I’m just a (piano teacher, regional pianist, amateur…fill in the blank).” With that one phrase we dismiss the years of hard work we’ve done at the piano, all the ways we’ve brought music to other people, and all the genuine achievements we’ve enjoyed over the course of our musical lives. We discredit the value of creating beauty in our lives and the lives of others. Instead of celebrating the fact that we can play a piece beautifully, we embrace an all-or-nothing perspective that insults the value of what we do.
We owe it to ourselves to redefine what it means to be successful musicians. In doing this, we must remember that we’re offered a chance to discern for ourselves what constitutes success, not to meet others’ standards. For some, it may be knowing that at the end of a long day at work, they come home and play music they love. For others, it may be seeing a student’s eyes light up when they fall in love with the joy of making music. Perhaps success is found in listeners’ responses—people who are touched by our playing and take the time to tell us. At the root of all of this, success is knowing that we’re serving the music we play to the best of our ability, regardless of recognition. When we can do this, we can proudly own the truth that we’re musicians—no qualifiers, no excuses, just humble gratitude that we’re part of a proud tradition that connects us to our musical heritage and to each other.