How Not to Be a Music Snob

Years ago, I met a woman who, upon learning that I was a classical pianist, gushed, “Oh wow! I love classical music!”

Pleased and surprised by this response, I asked, “Who’s your favorite composer?”

She beamed and replied, “Kenny G!”

Stunned (and glad that I managed to keep a straight face) I asked her who else she enjoyed listening to. When she listed several New Age and popular instrumentalists, I realized that her definition of classical music was anything without words.

Sadly, stories like this are common. Older generations—many of whom had “long-haired” music crammed down their throats by cultural finger-waggers—learned to view classical music as boring and elitist. Younger generations rarely encounter it at all. I can’t be the only piano teacher whose young students were surprised to learn that Beethoven was a composer, not a dog. It’s easy to laugh or feel culturally superior, but those of us who have been privileged enough to receive a good music education have the opportunity in these moments to be non-judgmental ambassadors for the music we love. 

How do we do this? Quite simply, we’ve got to meet people where they are. Musical tastes aren’t inborn, they’re learned, and few learn in an atmosphere of cultural superiority. I suspect that many of the accusations of “elitism,” and “inaccessibility” lie not in the music itself, but in the ways we introduce it to people. I’m not referring to the challenges arts organizations face when attempting to reach new audiences; I’m talking about how we, as individual artists and music lovers, share our passion for this art form with the “unclassical-ed” amongst us. Doing this well requires us to do these three important things:

Open our minds (and our ears)

If I won’t listen to someone else’s favorite music, why should they listen to mine? The question of classical vs. other styles of music should never be either/or, but rather yes/and. The moment we attach value judgments to other people’s musical preferences, we lose the chance to open someone else’s ears to new sounds and experiences. This doesn’t just apply to popular forms of music; dismissing entire eras or styles of art music is just as limiting and conversation-stopping. If we can put preferences aside—even for just a few minutes—and listen to something new without dismissing it before a note is played, maybe the other person will too.

Find common musical ground

One of the great joys of piano teaching was watching students fall in love with music that popular culture (and sometimes even other piano teachers) didn’t think they’d enjoy. Got a student obsessed with lyrical musical theater numbers? It’s a short trip to Romantic or Impressionistic pieces. A rhythmically-driven, adrenaline-fueled student understands and eagerly embraces the drive of many early 20th century compositions. I found my own way out of my 19th century bias when, as a university student, I fell in love with Bartok’s Suite Opus 14. If we think more about stylistic commonalities rather than differences, the music we share with others can be a gift, not an imposition. 

Live musically passionate lives

In his book, Piano Pieces, Russel Sherman quoted the late pianist Claudio Arrau’s thoughts on playing with passion and uninhibited expression. I feel it also speaks to what it means to live a musically passionate life:

“In general, when actors in this country do Shakespeare, they almost always underplay. They act as if they are ashamed of their roles and their lives. They think people will laugh at them. If they would go all out, all the way, they would find that people would not laugh but be riveted.”

When it’s real, passion is contagious. And in a world where influencers market “authenticity” as a commodity, it’s becoming (sadly) rare. The music we love deserves our passion because when we’re on fire for it, others will be too. If we live our love of music without apology, and without hiding it, our passion inspires curiosity. It’s magnetic.

When we’re humble enough to listen rather than lecture, and passionate enough to share rather than impose, we become powerful ambassadors for the music we love. This is how the musical fire that consumes us has a chance to spark something in someone else. This is how the gift of music is passed on.

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The Privileged Pianist

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Microjazz: an Interview With Composer and Clinician Christopher Norton