Life in the USA vs that in Europe

My late friend, the London-based architect Ayyub Malik, often critisized me for sounding too American in my attitude towards life. He told me to stop trying to optimise and be a go getter. Just sit back and have some slack. Relax. These were not his exact words, but I concluded that’s what he disapproved of. The fast pace of life, the competitiveness, and the 24 by 7 existence was what he wanted to avoid when he turned down that job in Chicago many years before he met me.

Bekkers Duo with Ayyub Malik and Mayor of London Ealing, 30 May 2003

Now that I’ve lived outside the USA for more than a decade, and in particular, on continental Europe for most of the past decade, I daresay that I have absorbed some of that European attitude, especially when compared to the way I was. I’m not sure if going to the USA will bring it all back.

I notice the differences when I converse with newly arrived Americans.

They are surprised that they can’t get from A to B by car. I patiently tell them that they can hop on a bus (which seems very foreign) or cycle (which requires renting a bicycle or buying one). “I’ll walk,” they say. But they forget what distances are when they are not used to walking.

American students complain of a lack of flexibility and attentiveness of Dutch administration. Having studied in the USA, I do admit that American universities do a much better job of ensuring new students are provided for. They certainly don’t need to sweat for accommodation after they arrive. It’s all taken care of BEFORE they arrive. It’s almost as if their needs are anticipated before they are voiced. In the Netherlands, I learned that if you don’t ask, you won’t get it. Those were the exact words of a student administrator at the Dutch conservatory where I studied for four years.

I explain the recycling rules. Americans that have lived in Germany nod in understanding. Those that haven’t think it’s novel to separate your waste into different compartments: paper, plastic, glass, refundable glass or plastic bottles, compost, and real trash. It does require getting used to. It does take up extra space before the weekly collection or trip to the depot.

I warn them to get their grocery shopping done before end of day Saturday. Unless it’s the first Sunday of the month, expect all stores to be closed and not reopen until Monday 11 am. Restaurants are even worse. I have starved myself trying to find outdoor seating on a warm summer’s evening, only to be turned away at 10 pm that the kitchen has closed. In some smaller towns the restaurants close at 9 pm. [This happened in Doorn on a Friday evening in July.]

One Dutch-American observed that the Dutch seem so much more organised than the Americans. “There are rules for everything, and the Dutch abide by the rules,” he said. On the flip side, the Dutch are not as flexible or spontaneous as the Americans. You could say that the way of dealing with uncertainty is different: rules vs flexibility.

As I plan how to travel from our upcoming concert in Newton, Massachusetts on 22nd October 2010 to the next one in Hampton, Connecticut on 23rd October, I’m amazed that no public transportation is adequate. “You’ll have either get someone to give you a lift,” advised an American friend, “or rent a car.”

Thank goodness gasoline prices in America are not $8 per gallon as we pay here in the Netherlands!

Music: a hobby or a profession?

I had an interesting conversation with our painter this afternoon. He has a portfolio career of teaching karate, sociology, and painting. Presumably being a sociologist pays the most. Karate keeps him fit. And painting? Whenever there is a demand for it.

As I’m doing my taxes right now, I complained that I have to make enough income to show that it’s not a hobby. So far, the expenses are way too high.

View in La Coruna, Spain in May 2009

Last year, we went to Seville, Madrid, La Coruna, Ferrol, London, Paris, and Crete, not counting Venice, Florence, Rome, Dusseldorf, and Helsinki where I went without Robert.

Robert worked on a flamenco guitar project in Seville. We gave concerts in Madrid, La Coruna, and Ferrol. We went to London to check and relet my house. We took the train to Paris for a long weekend of inspiration. We spent a week in Crete, in an artist residency which culminated in an exhibition and concert in Brugge earlier this year.

We got a grant from a Dutch foundation and airfare from a Spanish electricity company for a concert.

The airfare enabled us to give the one concert (on the way) which actually paid us cash.

Airfare, accommodation, and living expenses were paid for the week in Seville, but no other income.

How can we say we’re professional musicians when it costs more to do it than to sit at home and do nothing?

Another way to look at it is to consider these activities as investment. They are necessary to scope the market.

Our painter said that he would most definitely get paid more if he was on a university payroll. But he could not conform. He preferred to freelance as a sociologist and accept the uncertainties of cashflow.

We too have to accept this income uncertainty if we want to be flexible. [See future blog about uncertainty and flexibility.] If there were an orchestra or an outfit or a conservatory or an institution that would hire us and pay us to do what we normally do, we would probably get paid more than our expenses.

Does such an institution exist? Pay us to fly to Seville, Madrid, La Coruna, Ferrol, London, Paris, and Crete?

Risk management in concert productions

The kinds of uncertainties and risks I regularly encounter in producing (and giving) concerts are not like what I wrote about when I was swimming in such jargon of energy trading and risk management. It’s no longer theoretical or mathematical. And I don’t suppose there are fancy models to hedge such risks or reduce associated uncertainties, other than the ideas of redundancy from my engineering textbooks. By redundancy, I mean having a back-up, a duplicate, something on stand-by, a readily available replacement or substitute course of action.

Producing a concert involves managing the uncertainties and risks associated with the unexpected. When I was preparing for my final exam composition concert last year, I considered every single one of the 40 musicians a potential source of risk. A musician may not show up for rehearsal or be late or leave early. No one was getting paid, and as such no one had an obligation to deliver. What assured me that they would actually show up on the day of the concert?

The implicit contract to participate and deliver a performance rested on their integrity as fellow musicians. I could have done away with this delivery and performance risk by binding them with legal contracts and financial compensation. But I was a fellow student on a shoestring budget, and the status quo was to help each other. I did actually face the above risks, and the stories deserve another blog or two.

What prompted me to write this blog entry is the dramatic beginning of tonight’s concert.

The concert of 5th of May 2009 was planned months in advance and noted on our website concert agenda. Yet for one reason or another, it could not be confirmed until the day before. This meant that it was nearly impossible to schedule other activities. The uncertainty turned into optionality when, on the day before the concert, we were given the option of having an additional concert on 6th May. Our host asked if we wanted to give one concert (and if so which) or both.

Given that these were free and unpaid concerts, we had no obligation to give them at all. In other words, we could choose (at this late stage) to 1) not give any more concerts than the two already given on this tour in Spain and spend the remaining few days under the sun; 2) give one more concert — on Tuesday 5th May or Wednesday 6th May evening; or 3) give both concerts. There was no penalty associated with these choices.

In risk management, optionality is not usually free. An option is defined in financial textbooks as the right but not the obligation. Optionality, in my language, translates to a kind of flexibility. A wide network of contacts gives you more access to knowledge and connections than a limited one. House keys are a kind of physical optionality for they unlock and open doors but you don’t have to use them. A multi-lingual person has more optionality than a mono-lingual one. A ticket to the theatre gives you the right to attend the show, but you can always choose to sell or give it away or forfeit the use and do something else.

As musicians eager to play and maximise performance opportunities, we decided to take the third option — to give both concerts . This left us with very little slack and only a few hours for a day trip to Santiago de Compostela. Whatever free time would be spent on rehearsing for these concerts.

One hour before the “cinco de mayo” concert in central La Coruña …”break a leg.”