Daniel Broniatowski's Blog

In 2007, a survey was undertaken by the Fairfax County Economic Development Authority to examine creativity in the workplace. Of these 564 U.S. full-time and part-time workers, 21% said that they would change jobs to be more creative at work. This implies that at least 1/5 of our workforce feels uninspired or unfulfilled in the workplace. With the economic downturn that occurred shortly after this survey, I am willing to bet that this percentage is even higher, today.

What exactly do these employees yearn for? According to Gerald L. Gordon, president and CEO of the Fairfax County group, they lack the opportunities to express their personalities or challenge their intellects at work. As a musician, I have devoted my life to nurturing the creative soul within. I would like to take this opportunity to outline my solution to the aforementioned problem that so many Americans face.

In my first example, a worker who feels unfulfilled is lacking a sense of accomplishment. He or she does not feel like his or her work matters. This person yearns to be needed. This yearning could be a desire to be recognized by others, or it could be a manifestation of an inner lack of self-esteem. Whatever the case, my violin lessons address this problem head-on.

My lessons are characterized by a step-by-step approach that ultimately results in a sense of accomplishment. Even the most unmusical person can feel and understand this. We can all derive benefit from music at some level. Every session is an opportunity to discover something new about the violin and the music that is made. In fact, my students regularly feel like they are putting together a puzzle, piece by piece, as they eagerly delve into the journey of music making. This characterizes the sense of accomplishment, I speak of.

In my second example, a worker who is unable to express his or her personality at work often feels lonely. How many of us can relate to the cubicle-lifestyle, or the hours in front of the computer that stifle our social skills? Thanks to the internet, we live in a world that is faster and more transparent, but increasingly more and more isolated.

One of the services that I offer are group lessons. Aside from the fact that the tuition is cheaper, they allow people to come together as a team, dedicated to the common cause of music making. My students enjoy their time together and meet all kinds of interesting people whom they would not ordinarily encounter.

In my third example, a worker who feels uninspired might see their job as a necessary evil. How many of us have heard or relate to the expression “One doesn’t mix business with pleasure”? This attitude permeates our society. These same individuals might retreat into hobbies, the television, and other pastimes when they come home. Others are so desperate that they indulge in other activities, such as gambling and other thrill-seeking adventures.

Violin lessons provide a solution to this by allowing the student to set an attainable goal. If they are willing, my students perform in spring concerts. This activity is self-affirming. It allows the performer to reflect on and be proud of his or her accomplishments. In fact, not only does this inspire the student, but it inspires the audience and teacher. Inspiration is contagious!

If you feel under-appreciated, lonely, or just plain unhappy at work, come give violin lessons a try. With as little as 3 days per week of practicing for 20 minutes, each session, you too can play songs in as little as one month. I teach in Brookline, in Coolidge Corner, and my qualifications are among the best in town. In our lessons, we will work, laugh, and play together, and most important, we’ll have fun. Why don’t you join me, as the perfect remedy to balance your day?

In the words of Robert Schumann, “Talent works, genius creates”. While I in no way claim to be a genius, my experiences as a musician prove that Schumann had it right. I would like to take this time to introduce myself and briefly explain how my experiences as a Classical musician validate this premise and can apply to each of your lives. I was born into a musical family in the city of Cleveland, OH. From a very young age, I was taught piano and violin. In my family, music was meant to be a hobby – something that enriches the soul.  As I matured into my teenage years, I became more and more passionate about the violin. A voice inside me yearned to express itself through music.

From the age of 18, I would first study at the New England Conservatory of Music, and then at the Royal College of Music in London. These schools’ world class faculty stressed excellence in music through a solid technique and vast repertoire. Looking back at these experiences, however, I have come to realize that the innate talent which Schumann referred to was not cultivated to create genius. Instead, I was cultivating perfection. It is my belief that innate talent is useless without a greater application. Rather than being encouraged to think about what to do with our talent, we were fixated on being the best musicians possible. We were told that because it is nearly impossible to be a successful classical soloist, our worth comes from being perfect. While this cut-throat approach created excellent technicians, it robbed us of our humanity.

At the age of 25 I was accepted into the doctor of musical arts program at Boston University. Around this time, I developed a strong passion for teaching, due to the urge I had to apply my skills and fill a practical need. It was my hope that the doctorate degree would give me the credentials necessary to be accepted into a university teaching position. While enrolled in BU’s program, I also acquired students of all ages. Teaching helped me to realize that the musician’s goal is to create a bond with the listener, rather than to be perfect. By teaching, I learned to communicate through inspiring others. In order to do so, however, I had to be excited about what I was teaching. Furthermore, I learned that just as a teacher can positively influence the student, the performer can do the same for the audience member through being inspired himself. In other words, the most successful performers do not only have a solid technique. Rather, they use the technique to move the audience according to their emotional states.

From 2008-2009 I spent a year back in England, teaching in the Birmingham public school system. Many of these children came from disadvantaged backgrounds and did not have supportive families. From these experiences, I made the astonishing discovery that my lessons teach so much more than just music. Through the tradition of Classical music, I was able to teach discipline, organizational skills, and confidence. Because my art was being applied to a greater purpose (in this case, teaching economically disadvantaged children), my talent transcended the art of musical perfection. I learned that whatever discipline you chose, finding a greater purpose will help you to identify your voice. This is what Schumann must have meant by “genius creates”. 

 A truly creative person uses his or her innate skills to fulfil a greater purpose. If, in the words of Schumann, talent simply works, the artist is merely selfishly perfecting a G-d given gift for its own sake. The genius, on the other hand, transcends him or herself, and allows his or her skills to touch others. Now, I have come to realize that I can use my skills in so many ways previously unimaginable, as long as my emphasis is on creating. I have now found another passion as a social organizer. My new group, the Boston Chamber Musicians Network, brings together amateurs and professionals with the common interest of sharing our love of music together. The possibilities for creating with talent are endless.

Why be an artist? This is a fundamental question whose answer ultimately defines our creativity. The most honest and successful musicians will find their answers by looking inside themselves. The beauty of this question is that there are no wrong answers. Do we musicians wish to perform for the world? Or perhaps our focus is on a more limited, select group of people. It is with this mindset that I approach the future.

When I was six years old, my father took me to a violin shop. Some years later, I was told by my grandmother that this trip was inspired by a performance given by a medical resident at the beginning of a conference. Although my initial attitude to the violin was care-free, I always liked music as a child. I remember dancing around the living room to my mom’s piano playing. In fact, there are somewhat embarrassing home videos of me twirling around in circles to a recording of a march by John Philip Sousa.

Soon after the violin was purchased, my parents enrolled me in the Cleveland Institute of Music’s Suzuki Method program – a philosophy that encourages a nurturing approach to learning. Practicing was always encouraged through positive affirmation. The teachers instilled in me the joy of a job well done through stickers, candy, and other prizes. I will also never forget the “play-ins”, where scores of violinists would perform together for an audience of parents and friends, at least twice a year. It was this carrot and stick approach to practicing, coupled with the social aspect of making music together, that would eventually grow on me progressively, yet deliberately.

As I matured into my teenage years, I started to recognize that I had an ability to communicate that made me unique. Whether it was the joy people felt of watching a young violinist and his mother on the piano, or the power of the music I played, people were moved by my performances. Around the time I started applying to colleges I remember thinking “This is what I want to do. I want to move people and influence them positively through my music”. Looking back, I now realize that I wanted to inspire people the way I was inspired. Yet, I didn’t quite know how this was possible. Could the mere act of playing for an audience really create a long-lasting impression?

The short answer is “no”. My four years at the New England Conservatory in Boston were a wake-up call. I realized that although I was gifted, there are plenty of amazing musicians out there who were trying to “make it” purely as performers. We were trained to be soloists and orchestral musicians. We were also told, quite often, that despite our wonderful education, the field of music was horribly competitive and that the ideas that most of us had of how to “make it” were, unfortunately, outdated. I recall spending many nights and many discussions with my colleagues worrying about the future of classical music. Yet, I saw a glimmer of hope. In my last year, I started to teach a private student. Little did I know that this would develop into a passion, later on.

My next stage was a two year Masters program at the Royal College of Music in London. While the earlier pessimism about performing still remained, a voice inside me kept saying, “You’re not finished! You haven’t reached your full potential yet. Keep practicing and be a performer!” This was followed by an additional three years of concerts and coursework at Boston University in the Doctor of Musical Arts Program.

The Boston University program consisted of a rigorous curriculum of solo recitals, regular orchestral playing, chamber music, music theory, and music history. I came out of this program incredibly well rounded.

In tandem with my studies at BU, I also taught for two years at the Powers Music School – a small community-based institution that provides lessons for adults and children. Pivotally, I learned that I could communicate and inspire the way I had always wanted to, not only through performing, but through teaching as well. A further year of teaching in the public schools of Birmingham, England, helped me to confirm the fact that teaching is truly is a medium that enables me to transmit the life-long inspiration that I so longed to impart.

Back in Boston, I now find myself at a crucial juncture. I have just finished my doctorate degree and am teaching privately. I am also preparing to play private concerts in a few months. I am doing exactly what I want to do with my life. This is one of the most wonderful blessings one can ask for. Yet, I now need to create capital and use my talents in a way that is marketable.

It appears more and more likely that my dual-approach to performing and teaching will play a large role in my future. I am thinking very strongly about starting my own school one day. I want to teach all ages, as I have done, and I want to build an audience. I believe that directing my own school could allow me to inspire people, just as I have always wanted to do.

Yet, what I believe makes me unique is my unwavering conviction that music lessons have the ability to transcend the instrument. With the right faculty, a whole new approach to learning can be taught. As the pedagogue Shinichi Suzuki said, too many of us were “damaged by the wrong kind of education” . It is my belief that I have what it takes to find that crucial equilibrium between inspiration and discipline. The best teachers and mentors do not spoon-feed. Nor do they impose their ways. Rather, they empower individuals through a careful balancing act of praise and patient firmness. It is this “I can” attitude that creates the character traits necessary for success in any discipline.

written by Dr. Daniel Broniatowski.
www.musicteachersboston.com