I know I’m a real sucker for generalisations, but one of the things you notice when you’ve grown up in the music world is that certain instruments encourage distinctive characteristics in the people who play them. It’s a bit like dog owners who start to resemble their pets (though I’m not implying that pianists have three legs and are hard to wheel around).
I only started thinking about this when I had to teach a bunch of 13-year-olds about orchestras. I was confident I had enough material to last 40 minutes, but having gone through all the different families of instruments and where they sit, the clock showed that I’d still got half an hour to kill. So I started talking about the sort of people who played all the different instruments, and what they’re like.
The harpischord player
Some are easier to detect than others. I was sitting in the Turf Tavern in Oxford with a friend when a man sat at the next table. He was very thin with a beard, and was wearing shorts, white socks and sandals. Impulse convinced me without a doubt that he played the harpsichord. A very long shot, I know, but it was enough to prompt me to introduce myself to him. I thought I’d start broad, and then focus in, so I asked if he was into early music. He looked at me as if fame had found him at last, and said, ‘Yes, have you seen me perform? I play the harpsichord.’
Not all have worked out that spectacularly, and I’m not going to go through every instrument one by one, but if we have different sorts of musicians in our churches it might help us to relate to them if we know that sometimes their different characters present different struggles. The important thing about the following observations is to precede each one with the phrase ‘In general’. So: in general…
The organist
Organists can lead quite an isolated life. The instrument takes both arms and legs to play (and another arm and a leg to maintain). This means that to play the organ to a good standard takes up a lot of time that other people spend ‘getting out more’. The organist is usually isolated by positioning too, very often out of sight, sometimes up a load of stairs behind some curtains. As a result, organists can feel lonely, and some struggle making friendships. This may partly explain why there are more tensions between organists and pastors. Lots of sensitivity and a patient, listening ear will help them feel accepted, and will help nurture a positive response in return.
I’ve written more about organists because I am one, though I am very thankful to say that I haven’t really experienced the loneliness side of things too much, probably because I never practised enough. The rest will mostly be observations which will draw their own conclusions as to how to relate to the people in question.
Different singers
Singers fall into different categories. There’s the Choral Society singer who sings the harmonies in all the hymns, and sometimes even helps with the conducting.
‘Up-front’ solo singers can appear extrovert and gregarious, but this often masks insecurity. Their highs are very high, but their lows are very low.
Bath and shower-time singers. I’m not sure if we can say anything here, other than that they’re very clean.
The rest of the band
Clarinettists sit with their toes turned inwards. Don’t ask me what that means.
Cellists, I reckon, are about the most balanced of them all. However, I’m not sure about the ones who close their eyes and do the Stevie Wonder chair-sway.
The following was written by a violinist friend, so I’m absolved of responsibility: ‘Violinists are generally neurotic and secretive. It comes from the pressure and competitive nature of the work. They are, obviously, highly intelligent, but I think being neurotic is their most prominent attribute.
Bass players never smile while they’re playing. I don’t think this means that they are unhappy people. It’s just the ‘bass player’ look. This is an easy one — just tell them a joke. Or give them a tickle.’
I tend to conclude that all musicians are like anybody else — justified sinners in need of daily grace and patient Christian fellowship. Maybe the ups and downs of Christian discipleship are felt a little more intensely because of their artistic make-up, and the ethos which surrounds their work.
Either way, don’t be put off by apparent aloofness, amazing talent or whacky appearances (even if they do have three legs). Invite that organist out to lunch. He likes steak, chips, peas and Mississippi mud pie.
Richard Simpkin