Charisma

The morning after the Olympics I heard a conversation on the radio about national and regional identities. It wandered through whether it was positive or divisive for people to be saying things like 'If Yorkshire were a country, we'd be 7th on the medal table', past how John Lennon's 'Imagine there's no countries' throws the whole concept of the Olympic Games in disarray, and ended with the cheering thought that, 'When the Martians land, that's when we can reasonably be separatist.'

The notion it developed without really naming was that of identities as nested. British people do this a lot as a matter of course: depending on context I may say that I'm British or I may say that I'm English. I've moved around enough that I don't tend to identify with a smaller granular level than that, though if I were a Yorkshirewoman or a Scouser I might carry that identification with me even as I moved round the country: it's clear that some regions and cities have a stronger tribal pull than others.

We do this in music all the time too of course.

It is a feature of charismatic leaders that they are most famously depicted surrounded by crowds. Hitler addressing his rallies, Jesus feeding the five thousand: one of the ways we recognise charismatic authority is by its power to galvanise large groups.

But I have been thinking recently about how the large groups themselves may be part of the dynamic that generates the charismatic encounter. If we consider Raymond Bradley's conception of charisma as a property that emerges from a group with a particular set of beliefs and relational structures that attribute the extraordinary powers to a particular person or social position, it seems that the crowd is as important as the leader in creating the experience.

I have been thinking about this in particular in relation to the phenomenon of massed-choir events. These may be a feature of festivals, of civic events, or as one of the commercial ventures that have sprung up in recent years that offer participants local preparation over a number of weeks leading up to a concert in a major venue. If you lead a choir, you will get reasonably regular invitations to bring your singers along to participate in these.

Bookings are now open for my second workshop on charisma for choral conductors, so put this date in your diary: 24 November 2012.

Some places have been earmarked for people who wanted to come to the January session but weren’t available on that date, but there are plenty left.

An overview of the workshop and a booking form can be found here, and a set of FAQs can be found here.

To find out more, you can also have a look at my reflections on the last workshop, and browse an increasing body of posts on the subject.

Please do give me a shout if you have any questions about the workshop, and do share these links and/or the attached flyer with anyone you think should know about it.

I look forward to workshopping with you!

Here are the answers that people have asked so far about the Conduct with Charisma workshop next November.

There's a scene in the film The Iron Lady in which Margaret Thatcher is chairing a cabinet meeting just ferociously. Hardly anyone dares speak, and when they do she slaps them down. There is an edge of desperation in the way she wields her power so absolutely. It is a classic portrayal of how someone who was once seen by her followers as inspirational has turned into their despotic oppressor.

You see this same narrative trajectory in the relationship between directors and their choirs.

A ritual is a habit with meaning. Choirs have all kinds of habits: some good (clearing the chairs away after rehearsal), some bad (sneaking breaths in obvious places mid-phrase), some cultivated deliberately (smiling while singing), some developed by osmosis (going to the pub after a concert).

But a ritual is something both done deliberately and freighted with a specific import. It shares with habits that quality of repeated action, but it has a sense of self-awareness, of being invested with significance beyond itself. It functions to bind those participating in it together into a shared identity rooted in shared experiences. It will either implicitly embody or explicitly articulate some aspect of the choir’s values.

The self-help literature on charisma often identifies a confident demeanour as a key attribute of charismatic people. And it therefore encourages its readers to adopt bodily and interactional habits that are often seen to signal confidence: an upright stance, a firm handshake, meaningful eye contact.

As is so often the case with this literature, this seems simultaneously absolutely right and absolutely wrong. The identification of traits seems accurate and carefully observed, but attempting to recreate them as a means to develop charisma feels like an essentially self-defeating exercise.

In my last post on this subject, the question emerged as to what kind of overlap there is between activities/approaches that generate a flow state with activities/approaches that generate a charismatic encounter. I’m thinking particularly of the choral rehearsal here, since that’s the primary context in which I’m likely to apply these ideas – though if we learn more generalisable things in the process, that’s fine too.

Now, for all the structural and experiential resonances between these two states, theorising their overlap has been trickier than I expected. This is partly because there is one huge apparent contradiction between the two. A key element to Flow is the sense of personal control, that what you are doing makes a defining difference to the outcome of the activity. Whereas, a key element of a charismatic encounter is the way people hand over their sense of executive control to the leader.