Put Your Phone Away

"You don't build a bond without being present."
      -James Earl Jones


In a recent post, we talked extensively about using modern technology to advance your choir's marketing profile. In this post, however, we'd like to talk about when not to use modern technology.

Call us old-fashioned, but we believe that a conductor's smartphone has no place on the podium. In fact, all smartphones should routinely be put away during a choral rehearsal.

Smartphones are remarkable inventions. They can serve as solutions to an incredibly variety of issues: everything from taking measurements, to finding directions, to identifying metronome marks. But smartphones are also, by their vary nature, supremely distracting. A flashing screen tends to pull focus from everything else in its vicinity, and is rivaled only by other flashing screens in its competition for your attention.

As a rule, we ask our singers to put their smartphones away during rehearsal. Our rehearsal time is precious, and we require our singers' focus for every minute that we have them (and if we're doing it right, we're not giving them an opportunity to get distracted).

And yet, we've seen conductors in community, educational and professional settings whip out their smartphones on the podium and think nothing of it. We've seen conductors take selfies on the podium, check their e-mail, and even take phone calls during rehearsal. Sometimes a conductor may access his phone for a legitimate artistic purpose, such as checking a metronome number (via an app). But in doing so, the conductor necessarily gets distracted by the screen, and by all the notifications that have popped up since the phone was last put down.

An absolute necessity of effective leadership in any position is the ability to be fully present. Checking your phone, for whatever reason, takes your focus out of the rehearsal environment and into the myriad concerns of life beyond the rehearsal. You simply cannot be mentally, emotionally, psychologically or socially present for your choristers while being diverted by text, e-mail and social media notifications.

Every conductor needs a real metronome (not an app) and a watch. (Exception: one might use a smartphone only to indicate the start time of rehearsal, just to be sure that rehearsal begins exactly on the hour. When doing this, the phone should be on "airplane mode" so that no calls, texts, or notifications can come through.)

This principle applies to rehearsal breaks as well. Remember that even during the break, a conductor is "on the clock"- ideally, chatting with choristers or taking questions that weren't addressed during rehearsal. But in our modern era, many conductors simply retreat to their smartphones during break or at the end of rehearsal. While this is certainly easier for many conductors than socializing with choristers, it destroys rapport and sends all the wrong signals to the ensemble.

**

KIRSTEN:  I love my iPhone. I am certainly not one of those "I-wish-we-could-go-back-to-flip-phone" people. I check and send e-mail from my phone often. I enjoy social media quite a bit; in fact, many of you are probably reading this post because of my love for social media marketing. I like taking pictures and videos, and having quick communication with everyone I know.

However, this easy access to communication is not appropriate for live performance.

This past Sunday, my new organization the South Shore Children's Chorus (founded January 2016) had its Inaugural Concert.  The Saturday before the concert, several of our older students performed the Fauré Requiem in collaboration with two other youth choral ensembles. My colleagues were conducting on Saturday night - so my job was purely logistics. This meant that I had the luxury of sitting and enjoying the performance. At the start of the concert, I settled in to my last-row seat, excited to see our students perform.

Instead, all I saw during the emotionally grand organ introduction to the piece were screens. In an audience of about 100-125, I saw over 35 people pull out a smart phone or tablet and click "video." This was in addition to the several cameras that the professional videographer had set up prior to the concert. I was distracted and disappointed, which immediately took me out of the glorious live performance that was happening all around me.

Going home, I knew something had to change for my Sunday concert. As the Inaugural Concert for the organization, the event would set the tone for all of our future events. I came up with a plan, woke up early the next day, and printed inserts for every program. These inserts asked for the attendee's name and e-mail address, and instructed them to leave the insert in the pew at the end of the performance.

At the opening welcome of the performance, I offered the 250+ person audience a deal - if they did not use their personal electronic device to film the performance, I would give each of them a free download of the concert filmed by a parent who doubled as a professional videographer. I could not have anticipated how well this would be received. Parents approached me after the event and thanked me wholeheartedly for making this happen. It changed the tone of the concert, as parents were not distracted, and were able to interact and engage in the live performance of their children. Children could see their parents' eyes, and could connect with them while singing.

This is now going to be a tradition for my organization. I hope to continue to encourage concert-goers and musicians alike to engage with the live music without the distraction of flashing screens.


KRISHAN: Unlike Kirsten, I'm more annoyed than edified by my iPhone. I generally look for every opportunity to untether myself from it, for as long as I can get away with. While I do appreciate the convenience of being able to check traffic on the fly (a handy tool whether in Boston or SoCal),  I have little other practical use for all the bells and whistles that smartphones offer (and if you ever see me staring at a screen while waiting in line at Starbucks, please slap me).

For years, I carried in my bag an old battery-powered metronome (which always seemed to mischievously turn itself on in the security line at the airport). After years of hard use, I dropped my metronome one too many times, and ended its long life unceremoniously a few months ago. I haven't yet got around to replacing it, and have instead been sheepishly using my iPhone as a metronome these past few months. Before a recent rehearsal with the Boston University Singers, I was fiddling with my phone at the podium, checking a tempo on my metronome app in the minutes before downbeat. While I was doing this, a text popped up from a colleague in San Diego, asking me for important information that was needed immediately for a grant application. That took me into my e-mail, where I found the necessary info and forwarded it to my colleague in California. But by the time I had completed this, it was a few minutes after the scheduled start of rehearsal, and my focus was completely gone. I was now thinking about the urgency of my colleague's request, and wondering what other loose ends might need my attention on the other side of the country. Imprudent use of my smartphone had taken me out of the rehearsal mindset, and I performed poorly that day.

**

One of our very first blog posts discussed the ways that a conductor sets the tone for the ensemble. A conductor who is willing to give him- or herself entirely to the people in the room is a rare commodity indeed in our increasingly distracted age. Yet this is exactly what classic leadership requires.

There's a great line from a movie (whose title escapes us at the moment). While attending an important meeting, the main character is asked to enter someone's number into his phone. He replies that he hasn't brought his phone into the meeting. When asked why, he responds: "Why would I need a phone? Everyone I want to talk to is right here."

Put your phone away, and show your ensemble that there's no one else you'd rather talk to.