I had the opportunity to see Jaap van Zweden perform in San Francisco. Standing so close, I could see every expression as he directed the orchestra. When he came on stage and started, I saw something in him that made me laugh a little, as though I became slightly uncomfortable. I’ve seen conductors at work before, but Jaap had something I didn’t see before. After the laugh, came this feeling of melancholy and then of high attention. I was listening to Jaap, and so was everyone else.
Why did everyone listen to Jaap? Because he was showing his pure self. He felt the music and he unconventionally conducted the orchestra to play according to how he heard the music. Not just by means of rhythm but by means of humor, surprise, drama and sadness. Instead of it being a piece with notes, it became an experience of many feelings.
Jaap was showing his colors, he was not afraid to tell the orchestra what to do, to get his imagination out in the air. That is maybe what you would expect, but so many times, I see an orchestra that is playing a piece on repeat, looking at their scores and the leader becomes a mere placeholder, a backup to keep the tempo. With Jaap this was different, everyone was focused in on him, which made the music in turn, not a repetitive copy, but a piece of art created in the moment.
I was wondering what made everyone listen to Jaap. Why do some conductors, some leaders have everyone focused on them, and why some fall in repetition? What makes some leaders create exceptional original outcomes and some manage to repeat one piece well?
The Vulnerability of a leader
At one moment, Jaap was done with the first movement of the first symphony. Traditionally, we wait to clap until the end of the symphony. Some people clapped and Jaap, with his hands down, extended his fingers and stiffened his body. This air of annoyance was clear and immediate. Everyone stopped clapping. What Jaap did there is not common. As a leader, he did not just ignore the claps or care about not being rude. That was not his job. He was signaling something that everyone in the crowd at that moment understood and gave him the respect. He was signaling: “I’m doing something here, you follow me.”
Many leaders know that one cannot lead if they are focused on being liked. Directing a group to do great things, you want to signal: “I have high expectations, and I trust you.”
Jaap therefore set the stage by being fierce. By telling the world, I’m here to surmount your expectations, but I can only do this if I am in charge.
A little quirky
There were times that the music was signaling emotions of play, fun, abruptness. Jaap was not afraid to show his whole self for the benefit of the outcome. He was able to be transparent, embodying his own way by making dance like gestures or caricatures of personas to communicate his interpretations. This is not something you learn at school. This is something you achieve by opening your heart.
At some point, I thought to myself, could it be, that quirky leaders are better trusted just because they show themselves as speaking from their heart. They’re not afraid to speak unrehearsed moves. It’s not calculated. It’s raw, and maybe in that rawness, we find the sacredness that we seek to follow.
Everyone has a Jaap inside them
Trust yourself. The more we practice the care we have for our experience and the trust we have for our ability to perform, the stronger we will be standing to show our rawest self, and the better we get at doing this, the fiercer we are at taking charge. We all love a good show, a good run and Jaap showed up, not just as a marvelous conductor, but as a teacher of strong leadership.
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