The Dissonance of Social Media
How Classical Musicians Struggle to Find Harmony Online
Do you remember Friendster? How about AIM and the agonizing choices made for your daily away message? MySpace Top 8, anyone? Thinking back, I have a pretty strong memory of my introduction to the OG Facebook. It was the fall semester of the 2004-05 school year and it was my first full year at Penn State University. I lived in Simmons Hall with a roommate named Zach. I remember filling out my Facebook profile at the behest of my friends Sarah and Kristen on a day in which it may have snowed. (Or was 90 degrees. Who remembers?) Facebook was pretty bare bones at that time and was only available to students at select colleges and universities. It started in the Ivy League and was slowly released to other schools, eventually making it to the BigTen. It has since - obviously - taken over the world.
Facebook in 2004 was significantly cleaner and more streamlined than its predecessor, MySpace, and acted almost exclusively as an internet phone directory - a “guidebook” that gave you information about the people around you, which was a big freaking deal at a school with 50,000 other students.
The birth of Facebook pushed social media into the broader cultural zeitgeist, redefined Silicon Valley in the early 00’s, and it’s been here ever since. Billions of people are connected throughout the world via various social media platforms, from Snapchat to Instagram to TikTok to WhatsApp. More than acting as a worldwide “Who’s Who on This Planet,” the various social media platforms have become an easy - if not entirely effective - way for one to broaden their reach and develop their personal “brand,” whether they are a business or individual, an artist or CEO.
It is the use of social media by individual artists - and in particular, classical musicians - that I believe has a negative effect on the people and the music that make up “classical music culture.” While the original intention may have been networking and connection, musicians now frequently use social media as a way to shamelessly promote themselves, and not necessarily in healthy ways. Social media has had - and will continue to have - negative effects on classical musicians and classical music culture, with only a handful of positive outcomes.
As a thirtysomethingyearold cello player, I’m not so hip to the trends, not so up on what the kids today are doing and what platforms and super-cool apps they are using. I have never used TikTok. I don’t understand TikTok, likely because I’ve never used it. That isn’t going to change. But I have seen - and used - and do understand Instagram and Facebook. Through Instagram, Facebook, and to a lesser extent, Twitter, I’ve been privy to hashtags, social media trends, and GenZ vocabulary. For musicians, social media can be used in a number of ways.
#100DaysOfPractice is meant to connect with others who are also stuck in their practice rooms. TwoSetViolin has fangirls the world over who are drawn to their particular brand of barely-Millenial/almost-GenZ InternetSpeak, with a side helping of practice snark and holier-than-thou Flight of the Bumblebee take down videos. There are legitimate, world class performers - like the violinist Ray Chen - who have crazy high numbers of followers not only for their incredible performance ability, but also for their online humor and the various swag that they’re hocking at any given moment.
I’ve been skeptical of #100DaysOfPractice, the hashtag made popular by the virtuoso violinist Hilary Hahn, for a while now. As hashtags can be used to tag and search for related bits of content, it’s pretty easy to pop in on the private and difficult moments that various musicians - nearly 800,000 at last search - are experiencing in their own practice rooms. While I’d expect to find thousands of clips of terrible sounding, but necessary practice noises, that’s not the case. On the contrary: many are taking time away from their practice sessions to record multiple takes of the photos or videos that they ultimately commit to the record.
Most noticeably, the excerpts from these various practice sessions that end up on my feed always seem to be performed at a high level of excellence, and usually with a descriptions like, “I know it’s not perfect,” or, “On the #StruggleBus today.” Despite the various self-deprecating captions, the vast majority of the performances in these clips are all-but-ready for the concert hall. Because I know a bit about practicing, I know that very little of what happens in the practice room sounds “performance-ready.” In their book, PracticeMind, Hans Jensen and Oleksander Mycyk recommend moving outside one’s comfort zone when practicing. In particular they say, “people like to do and practice what they are good at,” and in the practice room, that manifests when we find ourselves playing the beautiful sections of music over and over again, to the detriment of other, less-beautiful excerpts. Practicing is about getting better at things that you aren’t currently terribly good at. Practicing - for 100 days or otherwise - should sound a whole lot worse than what I am hearing on Instagram.
This need to present a “perfect” product on social media can - and will, and has - be the result of a need to be perceived as a world class performer, even when moving through the learning process in the practice room. In essence, it’s insecurity manifesting for the user’s followers to see. This has a greater and more dramatic negative effect on younger musicians and performers, simply because they likely believe that they have more to prove online. While Hilary Hahn will post excerpts of her practice that show her honestly working through a challenging passage (and playing it badly), less well-known performers seem to post nothing but their great successes, and always with “performance choreography,” utilizing emotional facial expressions and full-body movement. It’s ridiculous, generally staged, and, for younger performers watching at home, it can be demoralizing.
A young student who is still learning to play and practice their instrument views these clips, these social media presentations, with embarrassment. If their practice sounds (as it should!) comparatively less polished and seemingly progressing slower than the Carnegie Hall-ready clips they see, will it come as a surprise to anyone when the young students ultimately burnout pursuing unachievable results? Millennials and GenZ already have a perfectionism problem, namely, “If I can’t be perfect, I’m not going to do it at all.” I see this in my teaching all the time and it’s something for which teachers and schools should be on the lookout. It would upset me greatly to find out that a student quit playing the cello because of unrealistic expectations brought about by social media. Failing, especially when hoping to live up to social media standards, could lead to severe anxiety, depression, and a more-than-general dislike of the instrument.
Two of my students recently protested (too much, mind you) when they were assigned Bach’s First Suite for Cello. Their reasoning - which wasn’t good, but does make sense - is that the three-minute Prelude is the most “overplayed” piece of cello music and they were tired of hearing it. Unsaid, but implied, is that they didn’t think they could (or should) make the piece their own; they didn’t have anything musical to say that hadn’t already been said. This is a problem that doesn’t originate with social media - Yo-Yo is on his third or fourth Bach Suite recording - but is exacerbated by the ever-present nature of social media and the internet: at any moment of the day, they can watch a 7-year-old play that Prelude on Ellen.
I’ll admit that I sometimes question why anyone undertakes a recording project any more. Usually, when I wonder why a friend is recording Bach Suites or Beethoven Sonatas, it’s the result of my still-unanswered question, “What do you have to say with this music that hasn’t already been said 400 times over?” In reality, recording isn’t about presenting yourself as The Authority on any particular piece of music, so much as it is offering your contribution to the musical conversation. Unfortunately, with more and more opportunities to hear great musicians play, younger performers are losing interest in creating their own, personal interpretations of these great works. Instead, it is easier and expected - like a 7 year old opera “star” on some televised talent show - to imitate what they hear others doing. The result, a side effect of social media and platforms like YouTube, is more and more pressure to conform to internet expectations of perfection and interpretation.
For example, I have heard a number of quartets and conductor-less chamber orchestras (most of which I had never heard of, save for their suggested post on Instagram) perform Shostakovich’s String Quartet no. 8, or the arrangement for chamber orchestra. In the second movement, a “fast” movement, these unknown-to-me ensembles play as fast and as loud as it seems that they can, pushing the envelope and showing off their virtuosity. As general unknowns, this is all-but-mandatory on social media. Show off your chops, break through the noise, and watch the views on your Reel soar. Conversely, watch the Berlin Philharmonic play the same piece and note that the second movement is not just slower than these social media phenoms, but perhaps slower than even a standard interpretation of the tempo instructions.
Why such different performances? Well, I’d argue that the Berlin Philharmonic needn’t post impossibly virtuosic videos to prove their abilities or increase their reach. On the other hand, if you’re an unknown, how else can you make yourself stand out from the pack? I’d say that these younger, unknown performers seek to use social media as a tool to start or to further improve the state of their careers. This is one instance where social media can be a tool for good: gone are the days of being “discovered” by a sympathetic agent. A career as a performer isn’t, and shouldn’t be, easy to jumpstart. However, it also shouldn't take an appearance on America’s Got Talent or playing in the subway station hoping that JUUUUUST the right person walks by to make a dollar or two.
However, I’d argue that the pressure to conform to the ever-increasing standards of 30 second clips on social media can actually hold back the enterprising young virtuoso-to-be. Those short, video performances that stand out on the Explore page are just a few of the thousands of videos from hundreds of other performers, and in seeking to stand out, those performers are following the crowd, which itself is moving further and further away from personal, artistic choices. These videos start to sound the same. There is no defining characteristic in the playing. While I could get caught up for days in the various interpretations from (younger) Yo-Yo Ma and Heinrich Schiff, I’d be hard pressed to name a young-ish cellist today whose playing and musical choices I truly admire. There’s very little difference between the lot of them.
Talk of performances on social media doesn’t really scratch the surface of another issue with classical music and social media: how the performer looks. Gone are the days of the stereotypical overweight opera singers with horn helmets and gigantic metal corsets. Now they’re all stunning, wearing fabulous looks from the workshop of byVINNIK, as though they are always just moments away from a gala or red carpet. Discussions of performers' looks have often centered around women and how they dress (See: the last two sentences). That’s unfair and more than a wee bit sexist. (Admittedly, I’d like to be able to wear some of the byVINNIK wardrobe). Having said that, how many popular and successful performers today from younger generations look like Pierre Boulez or the aforementioned Heinrich Schiff? If they’re not straight off the runway from Paris Fashion Week, they likely have a very interesting/promotable story. Ray Chen and Yannick Nézet-Séguin have both posted photos of themselves shirtless at the pool, guns ablazin’, and there are very few (read: zero) posts on the Instagram pages of Pablo Ferrández or Yuja Wang with the performers in their PJs showing off messy hair at home.
Of course, much of this is the case because of the single most damning thing about social media: the comment sections.
Audiences want to hear what they want to hear, and they prefer to hear it played by pretty people. That by itself is fine, I guess. Not really, but okay. It’s certainly not a new phenomenon. But dig deeper into the comments on Alisa Weilerstein’s Instagram or Ray Chen’s TikTok and you’ll see talk of their physical appearance, perceived political affiliations and beliefs, or most insidiously, incredibly harsh critiques of their playing. And those people, Alisa and Ray, are fancy-pants-famous. Imagine what the “nobody,” the young unknown performer sees.
To be clear, classical music fandoms haven’t quite descended to the depths of, say, RuPaul’s Drag Race dogmatists. I doubt you’ll find death threats or critiques of a random violist’s concert attire. Furthermore, few classical musicians (or their fans) are getting ‘canceled’ because of something they posted to Facebook. However, comments don’t need to rise to the level of police-reportable to have a lasting effect on a young performer. A simple disagreement with one’s interpretation or a commenter stating that they’ve heard better elsewhere can really sting. One funnyfunny meme suggested that the meme-poster, for a nominal fee, could be persuaded to comment the word, “intonation” on another’s YouTube recital videos, ostensibly in retaliation for something done to someone sometime. Every string player knows the pain of that particular critique, even when done constructively!
Researchers suggest that, when it comes to social media, the pressure of comparison is to blame. As teachers of young musicians, it falls to us to encourage students to focus on their own internal motivation and passion, and not compare their own progress with that of others. By finding the joy of progress within themselves, students who may otherwise feel pressure to achieve a “perfect” result will instead begin to realize that working hard, doing their best, and striving for a high level of excellence is commendable.
I know that I’ll get some internet comments for admitting it, but - for all of the reasons I’ve outlined above - I discourage my students from listening to recordings of music that they, themselves, are working on. Instead, I encourage them to listen to recordings of music that are adjacent to their performance projects. For example, a student who is working on Dvorak’s Cello Concerto may be overwhelmed by the number of recordings and listening options of the concerto, itself. Rather than end up musically “plagiarizing” one performer’s recorded interpretation, I encourage the student to listen to contemporaneous works by Dvorak - perhaps the Ninth Symphony, the Te Deum, and the F Major ‘American’ string quartet - as well as significant or influential works by other composers of the time, like, in this case, the Cello Concerto by Victor Herbert.
By listening to other works and removing oneself from the demoralizing landscape of social media performances, students begin to hear music differently, in a more holistic way. They develop their own, educated interpretations which are not muddled by various clips from Vine Virtuosos. They are no longer required to fit into the neat little box of “acceptability” that is determined by the commenter class. They develop an inner musician, who practices to be able to achieve an excellent performance of exactly what THEY want to hear. The music they produce is distinctly their own, and the deep listening skills that they develop in the process will last a lifetime.
The internet has the ability to isolate. Hop on the subway in any city in the world and you will find a group of people glued to their phones. From conspiracy theorists to Schenkarians, there is no rabbit hole too deep for the internet. This isolation from red blooded people can cause great harm to any person. In the case of social media internet practicing, isolating from others stunts the progress and potential of any young musician. Mindless doom-scrolling can be overcome through collaboration - but not online! Don’t just listen, alone, to Dvorak’s ‘American’ quartet: play it with others!
By encouraging collaboration with fellow performers, young musicians break free of the cycle of abuse that is Compare and Critique on social media. Now, not only is the musician using what they know to practice, interpret, and perform a great work, through collaboration with other musicians they are introduced to points of view and perspectives that may not be obvious to them, online. Take it from me, an old person who played in a quartet that one time: there’s no musical opinion that can’t be developed via a good ol’ fashioned quartet argument.
Collaboration needn’t be run-of-the-mill, either: string players could work with local violin shops, setting up concerts that utilize the shop’s inventory. Eschew even the boundaries of both the traditional concert setting by following the lead of Steven Knell’s drk., a brilliant boutique consulting outlet that creates innovative pairings with wine, food, and sound.
And, for the love of everything holy: PLAY. NEW. MUSIC.
Through the COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve isolated ourselves, but with more means to communicate than ever before. Zoom concerts and cocktail hours, YouTube and Instagram Live, and TikTok dance routines in Costco aisles all seek to connect people when it is impossible to be together. As the pandemic slowly wanes, musicians should make it a priority to engage with more traditional means of musical performance, with offline musical organizations and communities.
If I’ve learned anything from the pandemic, it is that the ability to connect with others in a musical performance can be one of the most profound and deep experiences. Whether it’s seeing your first Boheme, making a pilgrimage to the Berlin Philharmonie, or attending a concert of the local chamber music society, live performances are unbeatable. By encouraging musicians to branch out and develop a relationship with traditional musical communities, we take the experience of classical music offline and present it to audiences who aren’t searching for note-perfect clips, overplayed by sexy twenty-something virtuosos-in-waiting. Presentations of great musical works by real musicians in public brings the audience and performer together, as we’ve always done.
And that’s really the issue at hand, isn’t it? Many classical musicians are struggling to find the common ground between the use of new technology, connecting with potential audiences, and the traditions of the past. Some of these performers are posting videos on social media while playing instruments that are 300 (or more!) years old. Classical music - like it or not - is an old artform, and that’s a continuous struggle.
Now, I have opinions about how to marry old and new, and that’s been reflected in the music that I’ve performed and the way that I’ve performed it throughout my career, but in this regard, using social media, I’m definitely an elderly person: I don’t mind teaching lessons online, and I don’t mind posting videos of my performances for the world to see, but I also don’t like social media promotion. I don’t like the lingo, nor the hashtags, nor what one has to do to get engagement with the broader population. That said, it’s mandatory, and I can appreciate - while maintaining my skepticism - what many performers and their (groan) social media teams are doing to connect with a hopefully-younger public.
It’s not that I think that social media is inherently bad - though, I’m getting there - so much as I am concerned with the unforeseen ramifications of trying to stand out amidst an overabundance of sharing. Progress is hard, and my speed of progress is very different from my brothers, or my neighbors, or my friends across the world. There has always been, and always will be, a pressure to keep up with those around us, but social media exacerbates this issue with the Joneses. It has never been easier to be told just how behind you are, and it has never been simpler to compare yourself with your peers.
While a desire for “connection” is understandable, I’m not so sure that the idea of a personal, highly-cultivated “brand” is a positive part of the human experience. Fitting in, or standing out, are common struggles and experiences for children - and, if I’m honest, adults, too. But for young musicians, developing branding for yourself is placing a burden atop the already stressful life that you lead inside and outside of the practice room.
Scrolling TikTok may be a worthwhile way to take a break during long practice sessions, but maybe stick to grilled cheese sandwich recipes and life pro tips about laundry room organization, rather than taking in all of the suggested posts of FASTLOUD performances from incredibly attractive performers of whom you’d never heard.
A good blog finishes up with a call-to-action at its conclusion, so here’s mine: reclaim some bit of privacy, both in your day-to-day lives, and in your practicing. When faced with a decision of whether to post a video of your practice room progress, follow the 5/5/5 rule: “Will I, in some way, regret posting this in 5 days? 5 months? 5 years?” And, for our purposes, I’d like to add another category: “Will more than 5 people feel unjustly demoralized by this post?” If the answer to more than one category of this 5/5/5/5 question is ‘Yes,’ then I’d reconsider smashing that Share button.
Social media companies had an opportunity, perhaps a little more than a decade ago, to have a profound positive effect on our culture and society, more broadly. Unfortunately, the various platforms have chosen to prioritize their fiduciary duty to their shareholders and have since adjusted their products to entrap people in an endless cycle of doom scrolling, advertisement watching, and brand promotion. For musicians, there is little net benefit for the constant and shameless self-promotion that it takes to break in and be recognized online. So while these massive corporations prioritize their profits, musicians - and all of us, frankly - should seek to prioritize our long term authenticity and artistry over short term social media attention.
Log off, and go practice.