This year at the Golden Globes, Amazon’s original series Mozart in the Jungle was nominated for, and won, numerous awards. After learning it had won and seeing the articles flood out about this “dark horse” or “undiscovered gem,” I was flabbergasted that more people had not seen it or even heard about it. Although a comedic look into the musical world of a New York City symphony enjoyable to anyone, this show highlights the myriad of problems musicians face in the modern world and will thus resonate with musicians who see this struggle happen on the daily. Though ensembles are often hard to replicate in fiction, the fact that Amazon saw enough potential in this plot to make an entire series is promising for the future of classical music. Maybe, just maybe, things will continue on as they always have, only if people can see just how amazingly complicated and interesting the world of classical music really is. Here’s why you should watch the series, or catch up on season three:
- It’s funny. Personally, I found humor in seeing the things I do for fun in real life being replicated on the screen incorrectly—for example, when someone who is supposed to be conducting with the music is not landing on beat one when beat one happens or when the musician does not move their fingers during a trill. I can get over that though, based on how good everything else is. Because let me tell you, it is a hit for so many reasons. The whole series is meant as a comedic, but definitely dramatic, representation of things that happen for the “starving artists” of New York, and it is spot on. Even if you have no idea what an oboe sounds like, there will still be something to make you laugh—starting with Hailey’s roommate Lizzie and continuing all the way down to the hippie timpanist Dee Dee. It’s a look into a very particular community that most people do not know about, but one that insiders cherish. I am happy to share musical humor with the world, and I am beyond happy that this show does that.
- It features a millennial. A hard-working, decent millennial who is not self-centered, not lazy, is not afraid of self-deprecation, and definitely not looking to score big money straight out of college. This is the common view of young people these days, even by our own colleagues. Hailey does not hate those who came before her, she does not give up on her dreams once she realizes it might take more work than she originally thought. She waits her turn, and it eventually comes. She is shy, but only because people sometimes are. She is real. And she is certainly not afraid to stand up for what she believes in—even when her elders mock her for even trying. In this case, determination does not equal entitlement.
- It promotes state symphonies. In the past few years, things have been going downhill for a lot of professional music programs around America. The case of the Minnesota Orchestra lockout is not unfamiliar to any American orchestra. The decline in musical interest leads to older musicians looking to support a dying era, one where the Chicago Symphony Brass could knock anyone out of their seat or the London Symphony made solid profit from something other than soundtrack recordings. Even after fifteen months without concerts, the members of the Minnesota Orchestra still suffered a pay cut. This is where the serious part of the show comes in: it emphasizes the intense battle between doing something driven by passion and inspiration in conjunction with living a comfortable life. The battle between the musicians and the machine that allows them to do what they love—often the thing they sacrifice things for. This show isn’t just a play on how sexy and carefree life as a NYC musician can be. It brings up issues that real musicians deal with or dread every single day.
- It promotes music in general. Saffron Burroughs, who plays the cellist Cynthia, learned cello for the show. She wants to continue playing because she enjoyed it that much. A show like this could not have come at a more appropriate time, when arts programs are losing funding or barely getting by. Parents do not want to spend money on something that their kids will never get a decent job doing, so music then dies at the source. If kids are not exposed early on to the powers of music, there is nothing to bring them to it but fate. When the spotlight shows on a community like this—highlighting the ups and downs, promoting a fresh new take on something seen as elitist or outdated—the members of that community celebrate. When only 8.8% of Americans attended a classical show in 2012, classical musicians tend to get discouraged. But when people see the dynamism and allure of the stage, they just might decide they need to see it in person to find out what all the fuss is about. And if that is how we bring music back, so be it. I’ll see you at the next QCSO concert.
- It’s relevant. There are themes and issues this show addresses that go back to old ideas about who could participate in the classical music community. In the first episode alone, the attitude of the retiring conductor to the new—importantly Mexican and young—conductor reflects the original view that orchestras were places of “high culture,” where white men wrote music and had white men perform in concert halls only available to rich (and yes, usually white) audiences. The portrayals of female players and diverse conductors playing free concerts in the middle of the city not only mimics the modernization of classical music, but also echoes to global sentiments regarding racism and classism. If classical music has changed in the past one hundred years, I have hope that maybe that message can carry on to other aspects of our country. I might just be an emotional optimist who likes Shostakovich a little too much. But with shows like this, who can blame me for thinking music can save the world?