Leadership in Harmony

Whenever I've faced the question of how to define my leadership ambitions, I've struggled with the challenge of expressing the value of being Number Two. Its not just the fact that people assume you have no potential if you admit that the top rung of the traditional hierarchical ladder isn't one that you particularly want to reach. Its also the challenge of presenting an alternative metaphor and model for leadership that can make sense.

As a hobby violinist I have always enjoyed playing music as an antidote to the stresses of the modern working world. I can come home feeling utterly tired and weary after a long week in the office, but still manage to feel re-energised after picking up my violin and playing for an hour, particularly when I play with others in an orchestra. There is some part of the brain that I use when reading music and translating it into melodious tones from my violin that otherwise seems to lie dormant.

But why should that be? Its worth perhaps thinking through why the experience of playing music in an orchestra is a useful metaphor for other parts of life:

• The notes are to be followed, but interpretation can't be proscribed: There are clear limitations and boundaries to music-making. The notes that are provided by composer and music distributor ensure that all members of the orchestra, whether they be the xylophonist, harpist, flutist or violinist, are all on the same page. Literally.  But being able to read those notes and play them 1-for-1 is a pretty basic ability in most orchestra-standard players, despite moments when passages are hard. The real talent comes through individuals interpreting the notes and rendering from them a harmonic whole: A piece of music that hangs together with style, character, and meaning.
• Speaking is silver, listening is gold: Reading and playing music is a noble skill in itself. It demonstrates a level of competence and a degree of experience that will generally only come through application, practice, hard-work and seizing opportunities to play pieces again and again. The real accomplishment of the orchestral player however lies in their ability to listen to others, to watch the conductor, and to adapt and adjust accordingly. Only with all ears attuned to those around them can an orchestra hope to attain the kind of harmony that we as an audience expect and appreciate: Those who can't listen are doomed to enjoy only their own contributions.
• Not everyone aspires to be a soloist, but we all get a moment to shine: In today's celebrity-focused world, in which the majority of the content we consume revolves around an ever decreasing circle of the world's glitterati, there is an assumption that becoming famous is an ambition that we all hold. In fact, for many, this could't be further from the truth. For those of us who cringe as the Trumps and Kardashians of this world sate their need for media attention, orchestras provide an oasis of opportunity to be part of a greater whole, while occasionally enjoying a moment in the sun. Most orchestral pieces have moments where even the 2nd violins play alone.
• Every leader needs a deputy: More than anything else, my years of playing second violin have taught me that every great leader requires the support of many others to enable their vision to become a reality. Leadership of an orchestra, whether from the front desk of the first violins or the conductor's privileged view from the podium, requires a great deal of skill, naturally. As it does practice and dedication. But more than anything it requires the cooperation and input from the rest of the orchestra. Great leaders gain followers. Their leadership doesn't come without proof of its worth. And deputies, or second violinists, are instrumental in providing that support.
• It's all about the bass: The lady said it right when she suggested that is all about the bass. And not just for her. It is true of much orchestral music. While the melody may remain with the treble and higher octave instruments, leaving the texture, timbre and richness to emerge from the lower octave instruments in the orchestra, a concerto or symphony would be nothing to listen without that bass line. Holding the rhythm, setting the tone, providing the underpinnings for the flights of fancy that first violinists, piccoli, or horns enjoy, is the privilege of the unsung heroes of orchestras around the world: the oboes, the bassoons, the tubas, the double-bassists, the violas and the second-violins.

Having been both the leader of an orchestra on the first desk of the first violins, and the figurative "Schlusslicht" at the back of the second violins, I can comfortably fulfill either role within an orchestra. If I had to choose a preference, I would argue that over time the role of the second violin is more rewarding: A combination of underpinning, leading from wherever you sit, no less challenging, no less melodious, just as effective and, quite literally sometimes, less highly strung than that of a first violin. Without the seconds, and all the other supporting instruments, the whole orchestra wouldn't function and would lack the texture, tone and vibrancy that the bass line can bring.