Call me Maestra

I will always remember the time when I was directing an orchestra & chorus in rehearsal, and one of the clarinet players raised his hand and said, “Maestra, I have a question...” And I felt this… rush. It was a completely new and very, very cool feeling: complimentary, respectful and courteous and quite flattering – it was such a rush! I remember realizing in that moment that certain protocols of respect and collegiality from the eighteenth and nineteenth century actually remain in some circles at the end of the twentieth century, and I had just been inducted into those hallowed circles when this musician put me upon the podium and called me, Maestra.

But I got over it quickly. It’s not that I was uncomfortable though I certainly was unaccustomed to being called Maestra – in fact, I was quite at home up there making the music. Maybe I was afraid that I would lose something – I’m not sure exactly what – and would be alone. I do know that my mother often warned me about “showing off, or making a spectacle of myself, and the virtues of being modest, self-effacing,” and yada, yada, like that. I thought I preferred to be just a regular guy.

Soon after that time, one of the singers in my chorus made a podium for me. It’s a beautiful, heavy wooden box with inlaid beige carpet on the top. It’s sturdy and, well… authoritative. For a long time I used it in rehearsals – frankly because I’m so much shorter than the singers in my chorus – and I always use it performances, often even if there is one provided by the concert hall.

It has taken me 15 years since that day to realize that that musician did not put me, on that podium to call me Maestra. I stepped up there, I prepared, I held the baton, I led the musicians with authority and that I deserved to be called Maestra. And the minute I step off that podium I may become ordinary again but that’s the magic of it! It is not vanity nor conceit, it's not even an honor, as such. It's an attitude and a state of mind: it's how I feel about myself as a musician and a conductor and a composer. Then, smile and answer the man's question; lift the baton and make music.