Дирижер Джери Джонсон: расизм и сексизм в классической музыке

By Megan Sayles AFRO Staff Writer [email protected] In 2005, Jeri Lynne Johnson, founder and artistic director of the Black Pearl Chamber Orchestra, became the first Black woman to win an international conducting prize when she received the prestigious Taki Alsop Conducting Fellowship, an award offering women conductors intensive coaching and mentorship as they develop their careers. When the fellowship ended two years later, Johnson found herself back on the audition trail, competing against hundreds of other conductors for a one-person job. She reached the final round for three orchestras, but came away without any offers. Afterward, one orchestra invited the unsuccessful candidates to request feedback. When Johnson followed up with the search committee chair she was told the board thought she had strong ideas—but wasn’t sure how to “market” her. “I mean, it seemed fairly simple. How does an orchestra market anything?” said Johnson. “Then, he kind of cleared his throat and said, ‘You just don’t look like what our audience expects the maestro to look like.’ At which point I understood exactly what he meant. Now, it’s anybody’s guess as to which was more problematic, being Black or being a woman.” For several months after, Johnson said she wasn’t very pleasant to be around. She compared her sense of rage and frustration to Langston Hughes’ iconic poem about the fate of deferred dreams and whether they might “explode.” Suing wasn’t an option, Johnson said, because it would mean being labeled a “troublemaker” and shut out from the entire industry. Instead, she sought to outsmart the system, building an organization that worked for her and the dozens of other musicians excluded by industry expectations of who they should be or look like. In 2008, Johnson started Black Pearl Chamber Orchestra (Black Pearl) in Philadelphia to address disparities in access and opportunities across the classical music landscape. She designed the orchestra to reflect the makeup of 21st-century America and to highlight classical works by composers from a wide range of eras, races, cultures and nationalities through historically grounded programming. That focus on inclusivity has also extended to audiences. Johnson has strived to demonstrate that the orchestra is a place where all are welcome through community events—even allowing patrons to try their hand at conducting. Today, Johnson believes Black Pearl is in the strongest position it’s ever been in—both financially and artistically. It’s buttressed by a loyal group of musicians who are willing to decline other opportunities to play with the orchestra, a devotion Johnson said is fueled by the fellowship and shared values just as much as the quality of the musicianship. Though her journey to starting Black Pearl was jumpstarted by a rejection rooted in prejudice, the experience ultimately enabled Johnson to show what’s possible when orchestras are intentionally inclusive in who they represent and what they program. “I took that pain and frustration, and I used it to create change by giving opportunities to composers, musicians and community members to use music for their own needs, ends and joy,” Johnson said. Johnson’s experience reflects broader disparities in classical music leadership. A 2022 report from the League of American Orchestras found that just 6.7 percent of conductors were Black. Unlike Johnson, who was directly told she did not fit the expectations of what a conductor should look like, Thomas Wilkins, principal conductor of the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, said any racial prejudices he encountered were rarely so explicit. “I’m pretty sure there are opportunities that I could have gotten that I didn’t get because of the color of my skin, but I believe this career that I have is not mine—it’s God’s call on my life,” said Wilkins. “I think God called me to this knowing full well that it was sometimes an unjust, unequal space, and he said, ‘Don’t worry about that part,’ until I ended up in front of some of the world’s great orchestras.” Wilkins said he knew he wanted to be a conductor at 8 years old. His third grade class went to hear the then-Norfolk Symphony Orchestra, and Wilkins was captivated by their performance of “The Star Spangled Banner.” His focus was immediately drawn to the man directing the orchestra. At such a young age, Wilkins didn’t have the words to describe why the experience moved him so deeply, but years later he connected it to Beethoven’s description of music as a gateway to a higher understanding of mankind. “I think that’s what happened to me,” said Wilkins. “This music was calling me by name and I had no choice but to answer.” Over his career, Wilkins has led some of the most influential orchestras in the country, including the Detroit Symphony, New York Philharmonic, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Cleveland Orchestra and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. He described his conducting style as one grounded in authenticity and humility, understanding that the most important people in the room are the listeners in the audience—not those on stage. Like Johnson, he wants the orchestra to be a place where everyone feels like they belong. “Our job is to equip people to believe something better about themselves when they leave the building,” said Wilkins. At this stage of his career, Wilkins said he’s having more fun than he did 40 years ago. His central focus has always been to use music to create beauty, a mission he believes has become even more important during turbulent times of today. He offered a simple test to anyone considering the profession. “Search your heart and see if your desire to become a conductor has more to do with others than yourself. If that’s the answer, you’re in the right business,” said Wilkins. “If you want to be a conductor because you want to get your own box to stand on, your own special stick to wave in the air and someone waiting in the wings with a glass of water for you when you walk off stage, you’re in it for the wrong reasons.”