The Hidden Musicians. Ruth Finnegan
a complex continuum with many different possible variations. Indeed, even the same people could be placed at different points along this line in different contexts or different stages of their lives. Some were clearly at one or other end of the continuum, but the grey area in the middle in practice made up a large proportion – perhaps the majority – of local musicians. My initial statement, therefore, that this book is about amateur musicians needs some modification. It would be more accurate to say that it focusses mainly on the amateur rather than professional end of an overlapping and complex spectrum, taking account of the variations along this continuum. This can also be stated more positively, for the ‘problem’ of distinguishing these apparently key terms is not just a matter of terminology. It alerts us to the somewhat startling fact that one of the interesting characteristics of local music organization is precisely the absence of an absolute distinction between ‘the amateur’ and ‘the professional’.2
In this context, then, all the practitioners studied in this volume can be called ‘musicians’, and I have followed local practice in using this term (confusing though this may be at first to those for whom the immediate sense of ‘musician’ is a full-time professional). There is also a sense (more fully explored in chapter 12) in which audiences can be said to take a necessary part in successful musical performances,3 so though ‘audience behaviour’ as such is not the main focus audiences too are treated as in a sense active and skilled participants – even themselves ‘musicians’ of a kind.
Another interesting feature of the ‘amateur’/‘professional’ contrast lies in differing interpretations by the participants themselves. When local musicians use the term ‘professional’ they often refer to evaluative rather than economic aspects: the ‘high standard’ of a player, his or her specialist qualifications, teachers, musical role, or appearance as a regular performer with musicians themselves regarded as ‘professional’. The term is an elusive one, the more so in that someone can be regarded as ‘professional’ in different senses of the term or according to some but not other criteria. I heard one player described as ‘a professional, really, even though he earns his living from something else’ and another as ‘maybe not recognised as professional by the East Midland Arts Association scheme, but he really is, you know’. It is a term readily used to describe others (or oneself) with great conviction and certainty, but in practice rests on underlying and disputed ambiguities.
One specific incident can demonstrate the relativity and conflicts within the ‘amateur’ versus ‘professional’ distinction as locally experienced. This arose from the formation of the high-status Milton Keynes Chamber Orchestra. It was started up in 1975 under the auspices of the ‘new city’ Development Corporation and at first included many local music teachers and students. But by 1980 most of these had been eased out. There was heated controversy over whether they should be members and on what grounds, and emotive interchanges in the local press and elsewhere. The conductor on the one side argued that ‘we are looking for an absolute professional standard. If we get a local professional who is equal to an outsider obviously we would prefer him. But we are not in business for semi-professionals. There is plenty of opportunity for them at the Sherwood Sinfonia’ (the leading ‘amateur’ orchestra). In his view and that of the organisers, local teachers were ‘semi-professionals’, in contrast to the full ‘professional’ performers. He was strongly supported by some of his colleagues, as well as by enthusiasts for the high standard of the Milton Keynes Chamber Orchestra’s local concerts. Other local musicians, however, especially the teachers and part-time performers, retorted that the early publicity by the orchestra had been seriously misleading when it stated that ‘the proportion of players drawn from the area will increase’ and ‘that it will become almost entirely derived from its own geographical base’: ‘it seems we were good enough to get the orchestra off the ground and then be discarded, to be replaced by London professionals’. Some letters dropped dark hints about personal links (‘why are some local semi-professionals still playing if the orchestra is not intended for them?’ ‘is it a question of “if the face fits” and not the playing standard?’), and there were complaints that the orchestra had virtually become ‘London based’ after the conductor moved to a prestigious music post in a leading London school. The terms ‘professional’, ‘semi-professional’ and ‘amateur’ were flung around with increasing bitterness and the correspondence raged on for two months, turning in part on such questions as when a ‘semi-professional’ is a ‘professional’ and when an ‘amateur’, and relating this among other things to the rate of fees or the conductor’s own status. The orchestra continued, but the underlying issues were never settled to the satisfaction of all the parties and many hurt feelings remained.
As this dispute illustrates, the problematics of the terms ‘amateur’, ‘professional’ and ‘semi-professional’ are not just of academic interest but can enter into the perceptions and actions of those involved in local music. The label ‘professional’ is used – and not only in this case – as an apparently objective, but in practice tendentious, description to suggest social status and local affiliation rather than just financial, or even purely musical, evaluation. From one viewpoint, it connotes high-standard or serious performance as against ‘mere amateur playing’, and from another, outsiders coming in from elsewhere to take prestige or fees from local players, or entertainers who try to charge more than those paying them would like. Thus the emotional claim – or accusation – of being either ‘amateur’ or ‘professional’ can become a political statement rather than an indicator of economic status.
This adds yet a further dimension of ambiguity to the difficulty of isolating the ‘amateur’ side of music-making. If one pays attention to local perceptions, then it is difficult to be more definite than saying once again that this study focusses on the amateur end of the continuum – for that there was some such continuum, however elusive, was generally accepted locally. Even this vague statement, however, does have some meaning, for it thereby excludes any detailed description of the explicitly ‘professional’ Wavendon Allmusic Plan (WAP) run by John Dankworth and Cleo Laine, the Milton Keynes Chamber Orchestra, or BMK-MKDC Promotions, which organised large-scale concerts by professional orchestras and other outside performers. But it also has to be accepted that there were many ambiguities between the ‘professional’ and ‘amateur’ spheres and it is impossible, therefore, to keep them entirely distinct.
These overlaps and interactions between the (relatively) ‘amateur’ and (relatively) ‘professional’ are also of interest in themselves. For the world of professional music in Britain, with its famous orchestras, opera centres, and pool of high-status performers, is often pictured as an autonomous and separate one. Yet when one looks more closely, it quickly becomes obvious not only that – as just indicated – there are degrees of ‘professionalism’, but also that professional music feeds directly on local amateur activities and would be impossible to sustain without them.
Thus, whatever may be the case in other countries, in Britain in the 1980s the budding professional musician regularly gets started through local nonprofessional opportunities. This is particularly noticeable in classical music when it is based on encouragement through schools, churches, friends and parents, as well as on the system of local teachers and national music examinations. One important stage for many is to try out their wings in local amateur groups – a school bassoonist, for instance, playing in a scratch orchestra to accompany a local operatic performance, or an aspiring violinist acting as leader or soloist for local youth orchestras before going off to music college. This apprenticeship in performing skills is an essential preparation for the would-be full-time musician. Every year a handful of young players go on from their localities to further professional training in music, a reservoir of already partly trained talent brought up through the local amateur organisations.
A similar interaction is also involved in the next stage of a young professional’s career. A musician’s home area is often his or her first resource for recruiting the first pupils or trying out public performance. This is where the musician is already known and has the necessary contacts. In Milton Keynes, for example, students away at music college tried to keep some pupils at home and to appear as soloists with local amateur groups or at local music events. If they are fortunate, they gradually