-
- The organ console at Symphony
Hall was centre stage and connected to the six thousand organ
pipes by fibre optic cable - the very latest technology. The
internationally known organist had travelled from Paris to perform.
He came onto the stage under the glare of spotlights and played
magnificently, his hands and feet taking flight over the four
manuals and the pedal board. He finished with the well known
wall of sound which is the toccata from Widor's organ symphony
(a piece often used for weddings). I think that all 6,000 pipes
were sounding. The audience erupted in applause. But it was
an audience of only about 300 in an auditorium capable of holding
2,200. Kylie would expect to perform to an audience of 5,000
with ticket prices five times the amount we paid. Is she the
more successful? Or are we comparing chalk and cheese? After
all, organists, even female ones, don't expect to wear spangly
leotards.
-
- But things are changing.
Artists, for instance, who by tradition were mostly posthumously
successful, are taking steps to have the benefits of success
now. They use agents to manipulate the media to try to become
fashionable and so make lots of money. And who can blame them?
It was quite amusing to go around the Palazzo Grassi in Venice
and see the installations which the foundation had bought. They
mainly showed little skill in their execution and had turgid
and pretentious explanations of what the artist was trying to
say, a sure sign that he has not succeeded in the basic requirement
- that an artist should communicate through his work. But they
are fashionable and, around the world, rich people are paying
huge prices for these things - at the moment. At the nearby
Peggy Guggenheim museum, in contrast there were ‘contemporary'
works from an earlier period, which at least displayed genuine
skill in their execution and often managed to communicate a point
directly to the viewer, even if some further explanation was
helpful. Although many of today's artists have succeeded in
their aim of making lots of money, I think that their patrons
will find that they have only succeeded in buying a collection
of the Emperor's new clothes.
-
- Fame, though, tends to
be transitory. Not many continue to be famous throughout their
lives, and most of us will only ever achieve what could loosely
be called fame in a very circumscribed way - if we are good at
what we do, then others in the same line may know our names.
Solicitors and other professionals, of course, do not produce
things that can be hung on the wall or displayed on a pedestal.
Even my most erudite analysis of my client's legal position
is unlikely to be seen by more than a few people and it will
then gather dust in a file. It is probably because we cannot
display our work in its rich colours and layers of argument that
professional people get together in learned societies. We go
to dinners to which we invite representatives of other professions
and wear chains of office designed to make us feel important.
Indeed, for a year, I was President of the law society. Well,
actually the Tamworth Law Society. The small group of lawyers
in Tamworth took it in turns to be president, based on how long
they had been qualified. In fact, our society was so small that,
unlike the rather more venerable and prestigious Birmingham Law
Society of which my brother was president for a year, we didn't
actually have a chain of office, although I still have somewhere
my plastic name badge.
-
- So, was I successful in
my professional life? Reasonably so. But, when we give up work,
we are released back into the wider community where our former
professional achievements are of no great importance. And we
are soon forgotten even by our former colleagues and clients.
Does this matter? Well, only if being famous or important in
itself matters to you. In fact, I think it puts it all into
perspective. My aim is now simply to get on with enjoying life.
And, no doubt more by luck than judgement, that is something
at which I have been quite successful.
|