The spaces between us
The spaces between us
A sneak preview into series 2 of The Pocket Dojo podcast
A couple of weeks ago I went to a fantastic concert with the London Symphony Orchestra playing a complex Mahler symphony at home in the Barbican. I wrote about it too, because I thought there were lots of parallels between the performance and how we could work far more regeneratively in our organisations.
It was particularly poignant because the conductor, Michael Tilson Thomas, who is a well-knwon Mahler virtuoso, had led the orchestra in a similar performance a few days previously. He has had major brain surgery in recent years and suddenly shut his score mid-way through the concert, confused about where he was. He got up, turned around and thanked the audience for taking the time to watch an extended rehearsal. The first desks of the orchestra reminded him gently about how they were dressed and that the audience were there to listen to the performance. Michael took the pause he needed to reorient himself and then directed the last movement of the symphony. There was of course a standing ovation. At the start of our concert, he cracked a joke with the orchestra which must have been something to the effect that he was sticking around this time. We could not hear that in the hall but they all laughed. I think the applause lasted about 20 minutes at the end. I never knew I could be moved by a trombone (and I was a promising young musician). Neither apparently, did many of the audience.
I don’t think musicians do it for the money, but for the love of their instrument and their craft. For the joy of creating art through performance, which requires discipline, practice and giving of ourselves. And often teaching others to play the instrument, long tours and periods away from home, years of honing that craft to be able to take part in the performance at all. Mastery, especially if they want to be part of an orchestra of the calibre of the LSO.
On the same trip, I also went to another concert, this time at the Royal Festival Hall in London with the London Philharmonic Orchestra playing Beethoven. The LPO has a different quality of sound and repertoire but Beethoven’s final symphony, is a humdinger of a piece that transmits a visceral joy when it hits the right frequency. And boy, did they do that! The crowd was on its feet almost before the conductor put down his baton. Even my elderly mother at my side, who struggles at times to walk and maintain balance. There were tears and cries of joy across the hall. It was quite astonishing. Even more so when you consider that during the first performance of his orchestral masterpiece, Beethoven had to apparently be turned around to see the audience’s rapture, he was so deaf. Already when he wrote it. Extraordinary.
For me, art as performance is a deeply regenerative practice. It hits many of the notes we shared in series 1 of the Pocket Dojo podcast:
nourishing relationships, as an orchestra is more than the sum of its parts
speaking through your authentic voice, in this case through playing an instrument or singing or conducting
telling the truth, through the discipline of your own practice and the quality of your own performance
stepping into your personal power, as you master your craft and can give your all for the performance
zooming in and out, to make your own excellent contribution as part of the whole, especially on the day of a concert but also in the downtimes between such events
reframing challenges to see what is possible with what you have available, in attracting audiences, invitations and patronage through your repertoire and the quality of your performance as an orchestra
There is also a whole entourage of other people who make a concert a great success. An ecosystem, if we like, not just the stars of the show. And orchestras, like many other organisations, have had to weather the frequent storms of declining funding, changing tastes in music, not being able to play in person and no doubt many more. I think they know all about regeneration.
In series 2 of The Pocket Dojo podcast,
and I are talking to a line-up of fantastic guests who in our view are doing great regenerative work in different fields, who have generously agreed to share some of their practice, projects and challenges with us on the show. We’re curious to see:what regeneration looks like in those fields
build on our collective practice
and share that body of work with others who are interested in becoming more regenerative themselves, and developing more regenerative organisation.
It’s actually not that difficult, once we get a feel for what it means to regenerate where we are. Not a blueprint for how to do it or scale it from somewhere else, but active participation in our own context so that we can learn and experiment with regeneration for those particular challenges and conditions. Learning through doing.
Another performance caught my, and many others’ eyes, this weekend. Actually, to be honest it caught my heart rather than my eye. Richard Goodall, a very ordinary janitor from Indiana took his first plane ride to America’s Got Talent and got the golden buzzer to the grand final. Yes it’s a highly successful show format and the American dream is questionable. But Richard’s talent isn’t. His rendition of Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey was so unexpected of the impressions many would have had of him, and so beautiful in and of itself. If you haven’t seen it yet, it is certainly doing the internet rounds. And deservedly so in my opinion.
Don’t stop believing also feels like an important message for the world today, and for regeneration. I have written elsewhere and will continue to write about ways through the big things we will have to contend with and the kind of complexity they may well produce. Also that we don’t know what they will produce and we may well need very different skills, ways of thinking about life and organising ourselves to flourish.
We’re all ordinary and we all have talents, however we prefer to see ourselves. We are also all different so we need to learn for ourselves what works and what doesn’t. When we show up with intention, integrity and freely sharing the best of our talents, anything is possible in the spaces between us. They shape us and we shape them.
Ordinary mastery.
Please join us for series 2.
See you there!