Back when I was a bass player in the Boston Pops, I repeatedly observed this very strange phenomenon. There were several conductors I played for who were just magical. They would come out on stage and seemingly, without any effort at all, the orchestra would instantly play at the absolute highest possible level of individual and collective energy.
And then… there were the others.
The majority of conductors I played for, in a word, muffed it. And it all seems so terribly odd and strange. They were young, they were handsome, they had all the training and talent you could possibly want, they had a rich wife and a good tailor (de rigueur for an up-and-coming maestro), and yet… there was no magic.
I have looked at this question from every conceivable angle, but it was not until I wrote my most recent book (“Getting in Touch with Your Inner Rich Kid”) that I really started to understand the core energies at work.
Consider, if you will, the average major orchestra musician. In my case, I had spent untold thousands of hours in stuffy little practice rooms, training myself to be able to find notes on the fingerboard with astonishing speed and accuracy. I spent thousands and thousands of dollars on beautiful old Italian basses, seeking to create the deepest and richest tone. But nevermind me. Consider the brass section. These guys practiced just as much if not more, in fact, their entire lives revolved around the study of producing the best possible sound with these brass instruments. That’s not to mention the people who devoted their lives to learning the art and craft of building these brass instruments.
And yet, there were many conductors who simply could not accept the amount of wealth that was, not just available to them, but eagerly being offered to them. My colleagues and I were eager to play at our highest levels of capability. After all, that is much easier and much more fun for us. But we actually had a phrase for when these conductors would intentionally throttle everything down. The brass players called it “getting the palm.” When the brass sound got too exciting, most conductors simply could not handle this loss of control. They would hold up a hand, with their palm out, implying that the brass should suppress their energy. They were actually saying “no” to this fabulous energy and wealth being offered them.
There was another kind of conductor (although they were not mutually exclusive) who saw themselves as “mistake police.” Just my opinion, but this is one of the great nasty side effects of classroom conditioning, i.e., the belief that greatness can be achieved through the elimination of mistakes. Here we were, this collection of basically rabid musical enthusiasts, and we had conductors who thought it was their job to catch us when we made mistakes. It’s amazing how much pride they took in this task. Of course, when management makes it clear that the priority is to simply to not get caught making mistakes as opposed to actually creating a grand spiritual experience for the audience, we would just cover our lower midsections, dial back on our energy in such a way that we would not make any blatant “errors,” and get through the gig.
Conversely, there was a handful of conductors who understood that the orchestra was champing at the bit to play the piece as well as it could be played. And they just stood back and let that energy flow. You’ve heard of all of them.
There are many elements of wealth resonance vs. poverty thinking that I mention in the book. But perhaps the biggest one always comes back to the issue of trust. We cannot achieve wealth or the best experiences in life without trust. And yet there are many people who believe that mistrust, and constantly being on guard for bad energy, is a righteous way of living your life.
These top conductors had what I call “wealth resonance.” As a living organism, I could not help but be impressed by the amount of positive energy (as manifested in their total trust in me, for example), and that of course immediately inspired the best energy I had to offer in response, or perhaps one should say, in resonance with them.
It is truly sad as I look around and see that so many people are taught to think in terms of poverty resonance, which isn’t really resonance at all, is really just the absence of it. It’s all about preventing bad things as opposed to inviting good things. It’s all about worrying about limitation as opposed to just expecting infinite resources.
Yeah, I’m digging this new book I wrote.
© Justin Locke
