I’ll be ranting in this edition of “My Inspirations,” so if you’re (understandably) in the mood for some humor or uplift, you might want to skip this and head over to another article. Who knows? Once I’m done writing this diatribe, I may decide to scrap it, in which case you’ll never read it anyway.
Well, I’ve committed to submitting it. If the editors decide to print this and if you’re still reading, feel free to continue. Again, this one’s not too much fun, so no penalty for pursuing something more snappy!
This past month, I had three young musicians cancel on me for gigs they’d previously agreed to do. In fairness, for months one of them had expressed an amount of uncertainty about being able to play the engagement (one of the festivals I help administrate) but then needed to be prompted and cajoled to finally commit to a plan of action, finally declaring he’d be giving the festival a miss, leaving the band leader scrambling to find an adequate substitute at the 10th-and-one-half hour. Not good form.
While the reason given was valid “enough,” the issue should not have been dragged out so long (we’d been asking him for a definitive answer for the past seven months, with “radio” silence—yup, using that phrase, you know I’m old). And the OTHER two dropouts?? They enthusiastically thanked me for the gigs I offered them, only to back out by email.
Before describing the details of these other two about-faces, I should mention that none of these gigs was a casual “Hey-let’s-play-‘Back Home in Indiana,’-Ok-but-only-if we-don’t-change-to-Ab-at-the-end-cause-I-can-only-play-it-in-F” club soiree; I’ve already mentioned the first infraction was for a major festival: the second was for a high-paying subscription concert series 750 people pay beaucoup bucks for—and that the individual had already previously played and was advertised as appearing in again—and the third was another well-known and well-attended festival.
If you feel that six months is adequate time to find a substitute for the festival dodger (even though they’d agreed to perform six months prior to their announcement), I won’t argue the case, but the music I present is rather specialized so there is a limited number of musicians who can play the book. However, the musician who backed out of the concert series appearance gave me only five week’s notice!! I’ll offer no more than vague clues to the reasons why these three musicians 180-ed on their commitments, as I think going into greater detail might reveal their identities.
Also, I understand (as do we all) young people—the oldest is only 37–are often myopic, so I don’t wish to create impediments for them as they hopefully mature and fine tune their professionalism and ethics. If any band leaders are reading this, please don’t be cross that I’m keeping their identities from you; if you hire any of these youngsters, it’ll either work out differently for you than me, or you’ll soon stop hiring them. As for the musicians who are the subject of this polemic, if you’re reading this, you know who you are.
Why It Matters
At this point, if you’re still reading, you’re perhaps rolling your eyes and muttering, “What’s the big deal, anyway?” For me, it smacks of much more than simply backing out of an agreed-upon appearance, or in one of the three cases, waiting until the bottom-of-the-ninth to finally decide whether or not to “wish to appear” due to other commitments. Undergoing three kerfuffles within a month makes me wonder what’s happening to respect, loyalty, a sense of commitment or follow-through, and looking past one’s immediate situation. I mean, I can’t chalk it up to geographic locale. By that I’m intimating we musicians all know there are several cities throughout the country (that, like my Three “Must-Get-There’s”—apologies to Max Linder—shall remain nameless), where it’s di rigueur to back out of a gig last-minute if another one pops up that’s five miles closer to home or/and pays an extra 25 dollars.
We all make mistakes while we grow up, and in some cases far past that. I could fill this column into perpetuity with a litany of stupid things I’ve done during my lifetime thus far (and most likely will over time if permitted to continue writing for TST after this), but one thing I’ve never done is back out of a commitment to a gig. OK, honestly, I did one time: the circumstances were that Anne and I were invited to perform on a two-week cruise and requested (and this word becomes increasingly important below) being released from a weekend-long festival in which we’d agreed to appear. The difference? We were appearing at that very festival a month later and we were requesting being released from the event the following year, so thirteen months later, with no advertising yet in place or sponsorship yet raised.
In contrast, each of these three sadly shortsighted young musicians (all of them, by the way, brilliant…and I sincerely hope they work this behavior out of their system) simply wrote emails saying they would not be able to fulfill their agreement with me. Declarative phrases ranged from “I realized I have another obligation that weekend and I can’t make_______” to the musician I booked for the concert series informing me basically that he’d become overwhelmed with life and so he had to “give up some gigs,” one of which was my high-profile concert he accepted way back in April, 2024. Later he admitted “I should have maybe phrased my initial email as a request to sub out, rather than an ultimatum.” Umm…yeah, on that we can agree.
So, now I’m conflicted. I love these musicians as artists and people. Do I take a chance and ever hire them again? Do I stand back, wait ten years and see what future choices they make before taking that chance? Or do I reluctantly simply write them off and look elsewhere? Would that even matter to them? Does if it matters to them or not matter to me?
All I can presently do is offer a partial list of the “dos-and-don’ts” I try to live by:
1) When you agree to do something, do it. What’s the mystery?
2) Look beyond the immediate circumstance and look outside your immediate sphere. Short-term decisions often impact long-term situations. Don’t make choices in the present that you might regret in the future.
3) Weigh the fallout your decision may create, both for yourself and for the other person/people involved.
4) If you have no other choice than to remove yourself from a previous agreement (and this does happen), get in touch more personally than with an email basically stating “I’m outta here.” Moreover, offer to help fix the problem you created. Show some respect.
5) Don’t ever make the mistake of saying “Yes, I’m in” to something you don’t want to do or even are ambivalent about doing. And if you’ve said “yes” and things change during the interim, refer back to #3 and #4.
6) If you’re asked to participate in a gig that’s “in the works” and you agree to give the person offering that gig to you “first refusal,” do just that.
I fear I’m simply old-school. I do what I say I’ll do and if there is some impediment to fulfilling a promise I’ve made, I try to work it out to everyone’s benefit. If I can’t, then I keep the promise. While I should be careful to not expect from everyone what I expect from myself, I must admit sometimes I find that a hard road to travel. Happily, I’m inspired on those frequent occasions when I’m working or playing with others who feel the same way.
Here’s a final, related story told to me by a friend attending the Eastman School of Music in the early 1980s. She was part of the Opera program, and as a freshman was landing roles graduate students were auditioning for in school productions. For a month, the student body was all aflutter that the maestro Leonard Bernstein was coming to give them a master class. On the day of the planned appearance, in a gargantuan concert hall filled to the brim with eager young musicians, a pompous footman (whose name might very well have been Osric) flounced onto the stage and—barely resisting the urge to blow a trumpet fanfare prior to his proclamation—informed everyone present that “Himself does not wish to appear.” The page then turned on his heel and left hundreds of shattered students in his wake.
As a lagniappe, here’s one more maxim for consideration.
7) To those musicians who don’t keep their promises: You. Ain’t. No. Bernstein. And on that occasion, he really shouldn’t have been either.
In conclusion, though I’ll most likely refrain from hiring the people whose activities (but not names) I herein mentioned, I do wish the best for them. I also wish for them that they don’t take future commitments they make so lightly. Finally, I wish for them that they treat future bandleaders who offer them work (as well as the musicians in their aggregations) with more respect than they did me and the others in the bands involved in these situations. Ultimately, I hope this story will inspire others to weigh carefully and think deeply about the impact their choices have not only on themselves but on the greater world around them. Karma is real.
Next month? A veritable laugh-riot to which you can slap your knee…I promise!!
Jeff Barnhart is an internationally renowned pianist, vocalist, arranger, bandleader, recording artist, ASCAP composer, educator and entertainer. Visit him online atwww.jeffbarnhart.com. Email: Mysticrag@aol.com
