A few days go, the New York Times published a short video about conducting. In it, the New York Philharmonic’s Alan Gilbert plays guinea pig for a suite of motion-capture cameras that analyze his movements as he discusses the methods and goals of a conductor.
Of all Gilbert’s commentary, one remark near the end is surprisingly appropriate for those of us who spend our days in the studio:
One of the ways to make your sound better is to make it really obvious that you’re really listening and that it really matters to you what it sounds like. That’s not actually conducting. It’s kind of embodying or representing a kind of aspiration, if you will, and it’s uncanny how that actually can make a difference.
As soon as it’s apparent that your ears are open and that you’re interested and you’re following the contour of the sound, then that very contour is affected by that.
This reminded me of an interview with producer/engineer John Goodmanson [Blonde Redhead, Sleater Kinney, Wu-Tang Clan] in which he described one of his most important studio roles as being a kind of “cheerleader” for the band as they play.
All the best producers seem to realize this. For them, making artists feel heard and attended to is critical in helping them elevate their performances.
This goes beyond having a lava lamp at the ready, or making sure everyone has coffee and tea and appropriate breaks. It means being — just like a conductor — demanding and supportive at once. It means giving the artists something to “aspire” to as Gilbert puts it, and it means reinforcing their faith that they can live up to those aspirations.
A producer is not a conductor, but all the great ones I’ve watched are clear and present participants in the session. They don’t take center stage, micro-manage players, or direct the take; But like a good conductor, they listen deeply and help reflect and amplify the energy of the performance. In doing so, they act as an energizing and reassuring presence in the room. Like Gilbert suggests, this can be far more important than waving a baton.
I know that I’ve danced in-place during takes, just like Gilbert does as he conducts Stravinsky’s “Soldier’s Tale”. I’ve dimmed lights and nodded gently for long stretches, and I’ve jumped around the board, adjusting headphone mixes in real-time to help the musicians create better balances and play with a more natural touch.
Whether their approach is energetic or subdued, all producers have their own ways of making their unflagging interest in the music clear. A friend who had the good fortune of assisting Nigel Godrich [Radiohead, Beck, Air] compared that producer’s simple, efficient gestures and relaxed displays of engagement to a series of “Jedi Mind Tricks” that made the band play better.
If you also begin to take the license to truly listen and participate in your sessions when you’re at the helm — to always be there, deeply and apparently — you’ll be in good company. And so will the musicians. That’s the important part.