Unfortunately on this occasion you have not been successful.
by Jack Jones
This article was born out of a recent discussion facilitated by the wonderful people of SOUND, the New Music Incubator based in Scotland. If you’ve not heard of them, I would highly encourage you to seek them out. Their fortnightly ‘covfefe’ chats are an informal opportunity for creatives to come together and chat about the challenges, issues and unpredictability we all face. Thanks to them for inviting my inner monologue out and onto this page.
I recently reflected on the last time I was actually successful for something I applied for. If I’m being unkind to myself, then I could say my audition to study for an Undergrad at Guildhall (8 years ago cough) was the last time I actually achieved what I set out to do, and was accepted onto a programme.
If I was to be a little kinder, then maybe I would look at being accepted onto a Masters programme in the City of Chicago (which I didn’t finish) or getting a seat in the Young Musicians Symphony Orchestra (5 years ago cough).
If I was kinder still I’d include getting a job at a contemporary classical record label, working with a refugee choir in 2022, getting a place on the Roundhouse Music Collective and last but not least being successful in the ballot for tickets to the Ashes this summer 🏏 .
All jokes aside – since graduating and firmly leaving my studies behind me I have faced countless rejections from a plethora of arts organisations, young artist programmes, jobs, teaching positions, creative development opportunities and traineeships.
At the beginning of our careers we are often met with recognition and success early on as we climb the ladder and forge a path to a career in music. But sooner rather than later the losses very much outweigh the wins. And you know what Reader? It sucks.
“They say that true adulthood is when time becomes a commodity as much as hard cash.”
They say that in the creative industries rejection comes with the territory. It’s something we all have to accept. The environment of studying at conservatoire puts into harsh reality the outright competitive nature of our industry. Instead of following our natural creative instincts, we can get distracted focusing on the opportunities that don’t come our way, ways we can speed up our progression rather than ‘taking the time it takes’ or pining for acknowledgement that the work we’re putting in is paying off. These insecurities bleed into freelance life and are amplified further when we don’t have an institution to fall back on.
Then, as we get busier, older, often juggling multiple responsibilities whilst developing our creative practice, the choices we make on how to spend our time become all the more important. They say that true adulthood is when time becomes a commodity as much as hard cash.
I have now reached a point where if an application comes around or an opportunity arises, I have to make a decision on whether it is actually worth my time pursuing it. Should I spend my evenings trying to justify my practice through a specific criteria for the eyes and ears of someone I will likely never meet, or should I finally crack open LogicPro, Sibelius or VCV Rack and actually write that thing I’ve been meaning to. That’s before taking into account (whisper it quietly) resting…
This has been brought into focus during a stage of my career where I’m widening my net to an extent that I have more opportunities than ever to go for, but in real terms this just means a higher chance of rejection…
You may miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, but should I prioritise developing and honing my craft as an artist, or take the time telling something/someone that I’m worth a punt, to the detriment of the things I’m trying to produce?
“On the rare occasion of receiving detailed feedback from an application/audition, sometimes we are left with more questions than answers.”
The sad thing is – upon facing these rejections, especially when feedback is either not provided or insufficient, the choice of what to do next is up to us. Should I spend more time honing my writing style? Should I consider sending a video application in the ‘vlogging era’ despite me being self-conscious about my appearance? Should I do that one extra recording even if I’ve got to the point of being in pain? Should I take time off work to practise so that maybe I break through the glass ceiling and am able to say it was worth it in the end? This is before acknowledging that there is no such thing as a level playing field, especially when you might be competing with people who have lessons once a week, someone on the inside to show them what a successful application looks like, or the perfect recording environment with no neighbours to keep the peace with.
On the rare occasion of receiving detailed feedback from an application/audition, sometimes we are left with more questions than answers. One of the first funding applications I ever did was met with real enthusiasm – ambition was recognised, artistic mission was applauded, a plan for the future was commended. But sadly, no cigar. Then, upon reapplying with a very similar but more detailed application, the feedback was to the contrary but the result was the same. There’s only one constant – still, no cigar.
That’s not to say that all these programmes and organisations are evil, and we have a god given right to have opportunities handed out to us. Since operating in roles outside of performance, I have come to understand the pressures some of the most well-renowned institutions are forced to navigate both financially and practically. The ‘I’m sorry your application has been unsuccessful’ may well be a matter of resource. Often there is nothing left in the pot because the Arts Council yet again slashed their funding because this government sees the arts as an afterthought. The ‘we can’t offer you feedback right now’ might be because the poor dear who emailed you is actually trying to do three persons jobs at once, whilst also lobbying for an inflationary pay rise during a cost of living crisis and attempting to develop a creative practice of their own.
I try to remind myself that in life, most of the human race are just trying the very best they can, with what tools they’ve been given.
Despite these understandable reasons why institutions might find it difficult to hand out funding, places and scholarships, less and less is spoken about the mental agility required to be constantly rejected and still have belief in what you’re trying to cultivate.
“…less and less is spoken about the mental agility required to be constantly rejected and still have belief in what you’re trying to cultivate.”
We often forget, especially when it comes to Young Artist Programmes, that these are meant to be educational opportunities for creative growth and nurturing. If they want to take the finished article so that they can get more patrons attending their end of course concerts, more media attention and likes on Instagram, then more fool them.
As artists, we have a decision to make. Do we try to play by the rules and keep persevering in the established ecosystem that got us to where we are – or is there another way, one in which you can develop yourself and grow at your own pace without having to justify yourself to an institution or the gatekeepers of our industry?
The answer is probably a bit of both. No amount of failure should take away your pride from the success you have had, big or small. The artists I admire the most aren’t the ones who made something of their career because of their success and recognition but rather the ones that manage to stay creative and true to themselves in spite of their failure.
Reader – when it comes to writing your next application, don’t let it be forgotten – they need you more than you need them.
Jack (he/him) is a musician and curator born and based in London. After graduating from the Guildhall School of Music (and not feeling quite ready to do so) he struggled to replace that feeling of security and identity he had relied upon during his studies. In 2021, he established himself as Artistic Director of The Listening Project, a new music group that seeks to demystify the often archaic conventions of Contemporary Classical Music. A fan of all genres of music and other forms of art, he has a strong belief that tangible connections can be made between communities through the performance of the music of our time. Jack plays trumpet in a number of different contexts and is currently on the young artist programme at the Roundhouse he in London. He also works part time for NMC Recordings, a contemporary classical record label. He is a keen cook and a fan of both football and cricket.