"Emerging"
If any of you know me, I definitely have a propensity for long-windedness, so the fact that I have stayed away from blog posts is, perhaps, a bit of a mystery. Maybe I don’t have much to say that hasn’t been said. Maybe the things I’d like to talk about are more boring than anything else. And perhaps not. Let’s just say I’m starting this as a little experiment. More than anything, this is just a way for me to speak to things that have been on my mind lately.
Today? The topic of “emerging composers” has been in my thoughts. This is not a new topic of conversation. There are great articles out there that already broach this topic such as Jessica Rudman’s It’s Time to Drop the Word “Emerging” from Composer Opportunities from I Care if You Listen. What I have been pondering the most at present in relation to this topic is: what does it mean to be an emerging composer? Is there an age limit? An experience limit? A reach-this-number-of-commissions limit and you’re no longer “emerging”? The guidelines are murky at best and far from consistent. The closest criteria I have found thus far is age limits (though that is far from the only piece of criteria).
This last year, I turned 30. A pivotal point in anyone's life (or at least society deems it to be so), but it has, at the very least, made me painfully aware of my age. There are so many opportunities for “young composers” or “emerging composers” (which are often used synonymously) which set the cap to 30-years-old. Perhaps due to the pandemic - and what felt like a “loss” of 2+ years of potential work - and perhaps just due to my own procrastination kicking in, this year has felt like a frenzy of applications and scrambling to complete “must haves” project-wise: all in the pursuit of accomplishing these things before I turn 31.
As we enter 2025, and this “turning 31” deadline quickly approaches for me, I am left to wonder - what will be so different about me and where I am at in my career 4 months from now? I was just about to turn 26 when everything went into lockdown in 2020, and I have spent more than a few moments selfishly grieving my own lost time. Had the pandemic not happened, would things be much different than they are now? Did time simply slow to a halt? Perhaps I would have had a few more years before expiring from “young” composer and performer opportunities. Perhaps many things would have been different: career-wise and beyond. And I know that I can’t be the only one still managing to look backward as well as forward. This collective loss is one we may always remember.
It is an interesting conundrum: the want to be afforded these compositional/performance opportunities, but also the desire to surpass the almost humiliating “emerging” title. Yet, many of us find ourselves in the same liminal career space as a few years ago, yet this time are too old to reap the benefits of an “emerging artist” but too young/not regarded as having enough career successes to be considered “established.”
As someone who works a day job in addition to composing and performing, I am afforded a perspective completely separate from that of the classical music sphere. At work, I am one of the youngest (if not THE youngest) people in my office and my co-workers never fail to remind me that I “have time” to accomplish things and that I’m “still young.” And yet, here I am in the professional classical music world being told that I have 4 months until I essentially expire from my youth, while published articles referencing upcoming concerts (featuring my voice or my music) still refer to me as “emerging” or “young.” There are colleagues of mine with far more accolades, professional experience, even more education, and number of commissions (who also happen to be older than the infamous “30 years-old”) that are STILL being referred to as “emerging” or “younger” composers. Make it make sense.
This brings me back to my question: what does it mean to be an emerging composer? I wish it had nothing to do with age, and more to do with where a composer is at in their career. I wish that the word did not carry such weight. That it did not feel like an insult to be called an emerging composer where other composers receive the “established,” “prominent,” “rising” monikers in the same paragraph.
Perhaps it’s a petty complaint. Or perhaps it’s more a general critique of the culture of this industry. There are so many various factors that influence where a composer is at in their career - parenthood, going back to school, global pandemics, and/or working one-too-many jobs just to name a few. It would be such a relief if the present participles assigned to us did not detract from our worth as artists.
Zooming out even further, perhaps this is more to do with the ever elusive idea of the “genius” composer and how they have all since passed on, leaving living composers to ever strive to achieve such expansive catalogs as Schubert or Mozart before the age of 35. Evan Williams’s article The Myth of the Composer Genius (also found, abridged, on I Care if You Listen or in full on his blog in two parts) addresses this idea far better than I ever could. But the issue still remains: how does one define success in this convoluted, heavily saturated, classical music market?
For that, I sadly have no “real” answers. Just the desire to continue writing and singing, meeting the people in my musical community, and having my music performed. Isn’t that all we ever really want, anyways? I hope that regardless of our visibility and image afforded us in this industry that we continue to support the emerging and established composers in our communities, as well as all of the composers somewhere in-between, or who maybe have outgrown these labels all together (which, perhaps could be all of us). And to that end, I hope someday, at least in those circles, to be known as a composer (period).
1/9/2025
Today? The topic of “emerging composers” has been in my thoughts. This is not a new topic of conversation. There are great articles out there that already broach this topic such as Jessica Rudman’s It’s Time to Drop the Word “Emerging” from Composer Opportunities from I Care if You Listen. What I have been pondering the most at present in relation to this topic is: what does it mean to be an emerging composer? Is there an age limit? An experience limit? A reach-this-number-of-commissions limit and you’re no longer “emerging”? The guidelines are murky at best and far from consistent. The closest criteria I have found thus far is age limits (though that is far from the only piece of criteria).
This last year, I turned 30. A pivotal point in anyone's life (or at least society deems it to be so), but it has, at the very least, made me painfully aware of my age. There are so many opportunities for “young composers” or “emerging composers” (which are often used synonymously) which set the cap to 30-years-old. Perhaps due to the pandemic - and what felt like a “loss” of 2+ years of potential work - and perhaps just due to my own procrastination kicking in, this year has felt like a frenzy of applications and scrambling to complete “must haves” project-wise: all in the pursuit of accomplishing these things before I turn 31.
As we enter 2025, and this “turning 31” deadline quickly approaches for me, I am left to wonder - what will be so different about me and where I am at in my career 4 months from now? I was just about to turn 26 when everything went into lockdown in 2020, and I have spent more than a few moments selfishly grieving my own lost time. Had the pandemic not happened, would things be much different than they are now? Did time simply slow to a halt? Perhaps I would have had a few more years before expiring from “young” composer and performer opportunities. Perhaps many things would have been different: career-wise and beyond. And I know that I can’t be the only one still managing to look backward as well as forward. This collective loss is one we may always remember.
It is an interesting conundrum: the want to be afforded these compositional/performance opportunities, but also the desire to surpass the almost humiliating “emerging” title. Yet, many of us find ourselves in the same liminal career space as a few years ago, yet this time are too old to reap the benefits of an “emerging artist” but too young/not regarded as having enough career successes to be considered “established.”
As someone who works a day job in addition to composing and performing, I am afforded a perspective completely separate from that of the classical music sphere. At work, I am one of the youngest (if not THE youngest) people in my office and my co-workers never fail to remind me that I “have time” to accomplish things and that I’m “still young.” And yet, here I am in the professional classical music world being told that I have 4 months until I essentially expire from my youth, while published articles referencing upcoming concerts (featuring my voice or my music) still refer to me as “emerging” or “young.” There are colleagues of mine with far more accolades, professional experience, even more education, and number of commissions (who also happen to be older than the infamous “30 years-old”) that are STILL being referred to as “emerging” or “younger” composers. Make it make sense.
This brings me back to my question: what does it mean to be an emerging composer? I wish it had nothing to do with age, and more to do with where a composer is at in their career. I wish that the word did not carry such weight. That it did not feel like an insult to be called an emerging composer where other composers receive the “established,” “prominent,” “rising” monikers in the same paragraph.
Perhaps it’s a petty complaint. Or perhaps it’s more a general critique of the culture of this industry. There are so many various factors that influence where a composer is at in their career - parenthood, going back to school, global pandemics, and/or working one-too-many jobs just to name a few. It would be such a relief if the present participles assigned to us did not detract from our worth as artists.
Zooming out even further, perhaps this is more to do with the ever elusive idea of the “genius” composer and how they have all since passed on, leaving living composers to ever strive to achieve such expansive catalogs as Schubert or Mozart before the age of 35. Evan Williams’s article The Myth of the Composer Genius (also found, abridged, on I Care if You Listen or in full on his blog in two parts) addresses this idea far better than I ever could. But the issue still remains: how does one define success in this convoluted, heavily saturated, classical music market?
For that, I sadly have no “real” answers. Just the desire to continue writing and singing, meeting the people in my musical community, and having my music performed. Isn’t that all we ever really want, anyways? I hope that regardless of our visibility and image afforded us in this industry that we continue to support the emerging and established composers in our communities, as well as all of the composers somewhere in-between, or who maybe have outgrown these labels all together (which, perhaps could be all of us). And to that end, I hope someday, at least in those circles, to be known as a composer (period).
1/9/2025