Artist Managers: Norman Lebrecht on artist management's changed landscape

I regularly scan Norman Lebrecht’s sassy Slipped Disc blog for news from around the classical music industry. (You say you don’t? Excuse my disbelief.) Equally, in common with a good few artist managers of my acquaintance, I’ve been known to wince now and again at the, shall we say, fizzily irreverent tone which can be found in Lebrecht’s reporting on the profession at home and abroad.

‘If I pause to think about people objecting to what I write I’d never get anything done,’ is Lebrecht’s take on this. ‘Sometimes one has to be quizzical, if not cynical, about the motives of individuals in the artist management business. Press releases put out by artist managers are generally dull as ditchwater. If I can convert them into something buzzy — and if that attracts a readership — then what can be the harm in that? I’m trying to engage people from outside the magic circle to read Slipped Disc. It seems to be working — and Google Analytics tells me that 50% of my readers are under 35. Yes, I get complaints and gripes from artist managers — my door is metaphorically open to comments all the time. I may well admit that they have a point. Equally, I may not.’

Lebrecht discloses that artist managers in fact approach him offering stories: ‘They often say they never read Slipped Disc, but reckon that being seen on the blog is a sign to the musical world that they’re alive! They prefer the idea of having me onside.’

Writing about artist managers is something of a lonely furrow to plough, so having an extended chat with one of the few other long-time observers of the artist management scene was bound to be intriguing. The motivation for our meeting was a significant upcoming anniversary — 25 years since the publication of Lebrecht’s contentious volume Who Killed Classical Music?: Maestros, Managers, and Corporate Politics. A follow-up to his best-selling The Maestro Myth, which reportedly sold some quarter-of-a-million copies, Who Killed Classical Music? argued that the perceived murder of classical music was being perpetrated in large part by certain gargantuan power-obsessed artist managements in the USA. In the book Lebrecht suggests their huge lists of artists (especially of conductors projected as ‘great’or ‘legendary’) granted them an ability to hold the music presenting sector to ransom. A major, though not the only, target was New York-based Columbia Artists Management Inc. 

A good few readers back then reckoned Lebrecht was conspiracy-obsessed and, moreover, disregarded the honest and commendable endeavours of the artist management profession in general. The man himself remains unrepentant as to his central argument, but on being pressed concedes: ‘Yes, if there’s a fault in the book it’s that I skimped on the fact that there are always idealists in the business who devote their careers in the most genuine way to advancing the talents they believe in. Some became good friends. A little more praise was due, I think. Perhaps I saw too many of the idealists with their backs to the wall, sacrificing that idealism for materialism or convenience or survival.’

The US artist management landscape Lebrecht now surveys has been completely transformed, he says, given that, ‘with the possible exception of IMG Artists, there are none of the dominating artist managements left.’ CAMI (not to be confused with the company still operating under the name CAMI Music) succumbed in the early months of the Covid crisis, but Lebrecht judges that the company’s business model (in common with those of other comparable concerns) had long been unsustainable. ‘If you represent far too many artists — over a hundred conductors alone in the case of CAMI! — then you’re not likely to be able to afford enough people to manage them effectively.’ So, has the phrase ‘I told you so’ formed in Lebrecht’s mind as he surveys that changed landscape today? ‘No…not least because I regret the pain that’s resulted for a lot of people,’ he says, ‘both musicians and employees.’

Lebrecht’s long-standing ‘smaller is beautiful’ philosophy in artist management terms has in significant part been rendered a practical necessity by the Covid crisis. On this side of the Atlantic, the pandemic hit larger-scale artist managements carrying larger-scale overheads with particular force. Lebrecht has no hesitation in expressing sympathy for the profession at this, the ‘toughest of times’. I hear of managers who’ve spent countless hours keeping artists on an even keel in a situation so threatening to them. And I’ve a great deal of admiration for those who’ve shown ingenuity, who have ideas and energy and a willingness to take risks…maintaining their self-belief in devastating times. The last two years have seen a return to idealism…we’ve reverted to a feet-on-the-ground, finger-on-the-pulse style of management where the interests of the artists are very much to the fore.’

Lebrecht sees the Covid episode as having accelerated the pre-existing trend towards the boutique styles of management he most favours. We discuss one example where the closure of a company early in the crisis was followed by several former staff members setting up individual small-scale concerns. Whenever and however they’ve emerged, Lebrecht sees such enterprises as being run by people ‘who’ve realised their ideals and dreams are not best served by being part of a large office. They’ve seen that if they select certain of their most profitable and cherished artists and set up in modest quarters they can better serve those ideals and their artists. Four or five people managing, say, eight to ten artists in a really focused way can create a fulfilling working life for all concerned.’

Hardly surprising, then, that Slipped Disc was outraged when a number of larger-scale London managements last year bid for and received grants from the Arts Council’s Cultural Recovery Fund. ‘It was irrational and unjustifiable,’ argues an unapologetic Lebrecht. ‘If those companies had disappeared, individuals among their staff would have started over…and there would have been no massive loss to the art, nor to the music profession — only to the beneficial owners of those companies. The music would have gone on without these otiose government grants.’ Ouch.

As for the nature of the work that artist managements handle, Lebrecht takes the view that the Covid-ian upheaval has had the beneficial effect of preventing ‘a lot of unnecessary activity’. Unnecessary activity? International orchestra touring, for one thing, he says. ‘It does nothing for music and nothing for musicians…whose private lives it destroys. It increases the tendency towards repetitive performances of no great musical benefit. And it’s bad for the planet. It has to stop.’

Ouch again. What of the orchestras for whom foreign earnings have been a key element in budgeting? Lebrecht suggests a re-think. ’True, there are orchestras, especially in the UK, that make touring a key part of their financial model. The London Symphony Orchestra, for instance, writes ninety days abroad a year into its budget. That’s delusional. These organisations need to rethink their working model from the ground up.’

Ever-sceptical about the cult of the ‘legendary performer’, Lebrecht also rejoices in artist managements’ involvement in the Covid-enforced focus on the engagement of ‘locally based’ artists rather than international stars. ‘It’s something major orchestras, for example, should have been doing all along. There will always be a demand to see and hear the big names, but the business as a whole has neglected local artists, to the general detriment of art. Let Lucerne pay six figures to Lang Lang. London needs to hear Ben Grosvenor.’

Readers of Slipped Disc might occasionally wonder whether Lebrecht wouldn’t exactly mind if artist managers could be wished away. The idea draws the most vehement rebuttal. ‘Artist managers are essential. Someone’s got to mind the shop. Someone has to organise things for artists who aren’t necessarily the best at administration. The function of working between the creative and presenter processes is vital to every kind of cultural activity. And I’ve no objection to them making money. Not at all! Money is a stimulant to us all, myself included. But when profit becomes the main impetus, that’s when the art goes wrong. And my criticism in this respect is not just of artist managers. There are plenty of artists who need to reassess what comes first — the music or the megabucks. This is the best moment for decades to decide.’