I’m a conductor. I spend my working life travelling from orchestra to orchestra, podium to podium, symphony to symphony. Moving my arms, my eyes, and sometimes (far too often) my feet.
Over the years I’ve given countless concerts in halls, cathedrals, stadiums – and a highly memorable barn in Catalunya. I’ve been lucky enough to conduct in many, many countries. And I’ve become ever so slightly fascinated by dressing rooms. Especially, but not exclusively, when I’m on tour. I mean the ones I get given. And occasionally have to ask for. I often remember them far more than the platform I perform on. Sometimes more than the concert itself (which might be a sad indictment about the profession, but it’s more likely the onset of late-adolescence).
I guess I’ll get round to putting up pictures, and adding descriptions, of dressing rooms I have known. I also imagine that this blog will dribble on about the thrills and tribulations of conducting life. All that this entails, including dressing rooms.
One final aim – not to take this whole business too damn seriously. I take my music-making seriously, and so do most conductors. Mind you, I’ve noticed that many conducting blogs and websites (including, probably, my own at www.robinbrowning.com) seem to be very serious indeed. And when you blend in all the career-pushing, LinkedIn-striving, Mahler-worshiping, baton-comparing navel-gazing, well then you’ve a got recipe for some very odd people. People who spend a lot of time alone. Probably in dressing-rooms.
Please rescue me the minute all this even flirts with the idea of being too serious.
