Competitions

 

(Not my first rant on the subject, I know – and probably not my last!)

It seems to me that at the moment I’m receiving emails every second day announcing the thrilling news that so-and-so has won some musical competition somewhere; the announcement is almost invariably accompanied by photos of a widely grinning first prize-winner, and progressively less enthusiastically grinning photos of the second to sixth prize-winners. This suggests to me that almost every young musician who is set on some sort of performing career must be spending a huge amount of their practice time preparing for these competitions. And my question is – is this the best use of a musician’s supposedly most formative years?

Of course, there is much to be said for competitions. They have been going on for hundreds of years – albeit not on the mass-produced scale of today’s events; and it’s probably true that the careers of some of the greatest artists alive today – Radu Lupu, Murray Perahia, Andras Schiff being three obvious examples – have been considerably helped by them. Also, there are some competitions – the Bach Competition in Leipzig, for instance, run by that true musician Robert Levin – that are attempting to steer away from the gladiatorial nature of most contests, and actually help the participants become better musicians.

On the whole, though, competitions are not designed to bring out the best musical instincts of the contestants. I read an article recently in which one famous performer advised those entering a competition to listen in advance to the recordings of the jury members, in order to try to imbibe and replicate their interpretations. (Awkward, I’d have thought, if two or more jury members have recorded the piece in question, and play it in diametrically opposing ways.) Hmm…what has that to do with the joy of music – which is presumably the main reason that we gravitate towards the life of a musician? Or with finding our own distinct musical voice, which is what makes a performer’s interpretations interesting and valuable?

I know that there are those who will say that mine is an unrealistic, even smug, attitude, that winning competitions is a necessary step towards a musical career. But I would challenge that. Of course, winning a first prize will bring with it several engagements, and usually some welcome financial reward. But for how long will that last? For those who defend competitions, I offer a test. I challenge them to name five competitions; and then to tell me who won the last five of those competitions – so if they’re bi-annual events, for example, going back ten years. It is rare for them to be able to remember the names of any winners beyond the most recent ones. Then I ask them to name, not even their favourite, but the most successful performers they can think of. Of course some artists get mentioned who have won competitions; but most of the names that come up are of musicians who have never won a major prize. They have been noticed, helped and encouraged by other musicians (or sometimes by managers); and, in the best cases, have been able to develop naturally, without being thrust unprepared into the limelight.

I know that advising people not to enter competitions is mostly useless – and perhaps irresponsible, even. Musicians WILL enter competitions, in the hope that theirs will be the lasting career that sprouts from a victory (and maybe it will!); or even if they are not particularly interested, they will be pushed into it by their teachers or institutions (who in many cases, I suspect, benefit more from their students’ victories than the students do themselves). But I would advise anyone entering a competition to arrive with the intention to make music, to have a good time on stage (even given that they will be nervous – that’s natural). The possibility of winning should be an added extra; it should not be the main point. We all know what a lottery most competitions are: in so many cases, if your teacher is not on the jury, if you use an edition that a jury-member dislikes, even if some jury member decides that he or she doesn’t like your face or mode of dress – you’re unlikely to win. Competitions are a means to an end; and if that way of getting you where you want to be doesn’t work, there are other avenues available (recordings, auditions, recommendations, etc). Just go, take the chance to meet sympathetic young musicians of your own age (two of my very greatest friends today are cellists I met in 1975 at a competition – which none of us won, of course!); and try to make music. And above all, don’t let it distract you from your REAL musical studies!