In today’s competitive business environment every company is looking to stimulate innovation. But it’s not easy, particularly for large, successful organizations where norms and conventions have taken root.
Even the symphony orchestra, which routinely plays the most thrilling masterpieces ever conceived, is still susceptible to boredom and tedium. Indeed, without the guiding hand of an inspired conductor, who brings fresh meaning to the work and embodies its highest values, an orchestra rehearsal will inevitably devolve into the mundane.
The most striking example I ever saw of a leader stimulating an irresistible spirit of discovery was when Leonard Bernstein came for his first and only time to conduct the Juilliard Orchestra in the spring of 1979.
After a few casual words of greeting to the orchestra he suddenly got excited and said, “Did you hear?” He looked around with an animated look on his face. “Jimmy actually did it!” No one had any idea what he was talking about. “Jimmy Carter got Sadat and Begin to agree to make peace!”
The breakthrough in the Camp David negotiations hadn’t yet been announced in the news, but Bernstein was obviously in the know about it.
“So let’s hear a C major chord for Jimmy Carter!” He lifted his baton and gave such an enthusiastic upbeat that the musicians had no choice but to play. Out came a tentative sounding harmony, as each player scrambled to select one of the notes from the C major chord. Bernstein gave a dramatic cutoff.
“Now let’s hear a D major chord for Anwar Sadat.” Again the upbeat, but this time the musicians were ready and made a strong and confident sound. Then Bernstein surprised everyone again. His face turned sour, as if he’d tasted a lemon. “And let’s hear an E flat minor chord for Menachim Begin.” This was totally unexpected. Every musician knows that there are hardly any pieces written in E flat minor, a key with so many flats that you’re always in danger of forgetting one of them. Musicians associate the key of E flat minor with depression. Bernstein was making a deliciously playful, indirect comment about Begin’s politics. The players had to pause to think of what note to play and the resulting chord sounded as sour as the expression on Bernstein’s face. The room erupted in laughter. When we finally calmed down Bernstein turned his attention to the work that we were going to play, a symphony by the Mexican composer Carlos Chavez.
I marveled at what I had just witnessed. In a minute and a half Bernstein had redefined the room. He created a sense of play about our work. He made it seem fresh and new, erasing stale conventions and stodgy stereotypes. It felt like being a musician was the most creative and important job you could ever have. He turned our ordinary rehearsal room into an enchanted place where breaking the mold in order serve a higher purpose was, of course, what every musician should be doing.
Roger Nierenberg