I have the best job in the world. Every
weekend from mid-May to late October my string quartet makes the jaunt
from Reno, Nevada, to majestic Lake Tahoe. There we play music for a
carousel of couples who stammer, stutter, laugh, and cry through their
marriage vows. With its fragrant pine forests, crystalline waters, and
spectacular sunsets, Tahoe is one of the most popular wedding destinations
anywhere. My quartet visits lakeside mansions, enjoys outstanding food
and drink, plays chamber and popular music (without tedious rehearsals),
and gets paid in heartfelt compliments and bankable dollars.
But my job also involves sheep-dogging
two dozen string players in six different trios and quartets. Like postal
workers, we brave the elements: wind (the worst), rain (your bow hair
will swoon), and even snow (fingers, what fingers?). I've discovered
that a college degree does not necessarily signify common sense. Forgetting
a music stand is one thing, but showing up without a bow? It sometimes
happens.
I didn't set out to be a professional
wedding musician. After college, my first destination was Reno and the
exciting world of show business–just as night club employment there
began to decline. In 1982, a call to play at a wedding brought me to
my senses: Every Saturday there's a wedding somewhere, and weddings
need music. I wondered: Could a quartet that plays classical music for
the ceremony, then popular music at the reception, drum up enough work
to live on? The answer surprised me. Despite the inroads of DJs, weddings
offer string players a real opportunity to earn significant money or,
in my case, build a career. If you'd like to try your fingers at
it, here are some important things you need to know.
Make Thee
A Wedding Book
You'll need to play requests, and the traditional wedding
songs–Wagner's processional, Mendelssohn's recessional–are
not the most popular. (You'll learn to love a certain well-known Canon
in D.) If you plan on playing just the ceremony, you should be ready
with at least 45 minutes of music in a variety of styles. Many versatile
collections are available (see "Foolproof Music for Wedding Ensembles,"
page 26). We begin the prelude music as guests arrive, usually 20 to
30 minutes before the ceremony. Our starting selections are always in
a major key and not too slow.
Demand
Professionalism from Your Colleagues
Playing outdoors can be a challenge. You need good-natured,
reliable players in your ensemble, not complainers. At one April wedding,
we played while huddled under a pine tree as snowflakes drifted down.
The couple thought it so romantic that they rewarded us with a big tip.
Keep that in mind.
Don't Neglect
to Market Yourself
Finding couples who are getting married isn't difficult–but
it does take time and money. The promo kit you send the bride is your
only chance to make that first impression. Hire a designer to provide
an original logo, envelopes, letterhead, and business cards.
Likewise, pay a studio with a professional engineer to
produce a top-notch demo, preferably a CD. I group 20- to 30-second
excerpts of music into categories labeled Prelude Suggestions, Wedding
Marches, Recessional Choices, and so on. It may also be worth placing
a well-designed ad in your newspaper's wedding section, but be careful.
I've found that attending a wedding fair brings more jobs than buying
a small monthly ad in a newsprint handout. And don't forget that you
can barter. My local symphony and opera offer ad space in their programs
to musicians in lieu of wages for performances. The beauty of this business
is that the more weddings you play, the less you'll need to market yourself.
Keep A Grip
on the Money
"True art is in the deal," Marcel Proust said,
and the wise musician heeds his words. What should you charge? An hourly
rate is standard, and your fee should include travel expenses. Ask some
other groups what they get, and don't sell yourself short. I've always
maintained that string musicians are worth more than others. My best
advice? Start out reasonably, build a reputation, then gradually raise
your prices.
Once you've set your fee, don't neglect to send an agreement
or contract–getting the details in writing protects everyone. Include
the date, time, location, group size (trio vs. quartet), fee per hour,
and overtime. (You may want to specify that you'll be served a meal
if you play for more than three hours.) Print shops offer two-sheet
carbons, which make it easy for the bride to return a signed copy. My
policy is to ask to be paid at least a week in advance. Last year a
couple left their checkbook at the hotel, promised they'd mail a check
the next day, then took off on their honeymoon in Italy–for two
months.
Plan Ahead
I once hired a feuding violist and cellist who refused
to ride in the same car–and the cellist never found the gig. The
aggrieved groom not only melted my phone after the wedding but demanded
a refund, too. Experiences of that kind have taught me to carpool whenever
possible.
As for dress, it doesn't matter what color you wear as
long as it's black. For better or worse, customers expect formal wear;
so, guys, I recommend shelling out for a comfortable and stylish tuxedo.
Women, you'll have more leeway–in style, though not color. I also
recommend a sturdy folding music stand, since you'll need the space
when carpooling.
When you arrive you should know exactly what you'll play
for four key events: the seating of the mothers, the entrance of the
bridesmaids, the bridal processional, and the bride-and-groom recessional.
The seating of the mothers and grandparents traditionally launches the
ceremony, so note this handy tip: When the photographer walks to the
front of the hall, you know it's about to start.
Music is often called for during the ceremony–the
lighting of the Unity Candle, for instance, the rose presentation to
the parents, or communion. My trick is to write everything on a ruled
index card and clip it to my music. Since it can be hard to tell when
to start and stop playing, position the group so the leader can see
where the bride and bridesmaids enter and end up. I once had to count
nine bridesmaids, three flower girls, and two ring-bearers from a church
balcony while playing a scrunched page of triplets. I was terrified
to raise my eyes, knowing I would never find my place again. Fortunately,
the photographer was stuck in the balcony, too, and counted heads for
me.
Of course, it's smart to chat up the officiant (minister,
priest, rabbi) or wedding coordinator before the ceremony to review
the order of events. If you're unsure when the vocalist will sing or
when to start the communion music, just ask. Also find out exactly when
the ceremony will end. At the kiss? The prayer? The introduction of
the newlyweds? (Tip: It's most often at the introduction.) Always play
happy music for the recessional, and keep going until every guest has
moved on.
Stay on Track
during the Reception
If you know you'll be performing through lunch or dinner,
try to position yourselves near where the bride and groom will sit,
so they'll have a chance to hear you play. And keep it lively. Guests
won't always recall what you played, but they will remember the feel
and tempo. Don't forget: You've been hired to help create a joyous mood,
so stay away from slow movements of Mozart and the like. As the reception
progresses, the cocktail chatter will grow louder, threatening to drown
you out. Keep your chin up. Guests will appreciate you, even when they
fail to applaud.
We typically play an hour-long set, then break for ten
minutes. It's easy to get distracted during your break by chatty guests
and tasty hors d'oeuvres–so keep a sharp eye on your watch. If
a meal is part of your deal, ask the caterers or servers to hold it
for you until you're finished. Your players may complain, but it's not
their signatures on your check.
Expect the
Unexpected
Warn clients that if any part of the event takes place
outside, you'll need shade to protect your instruments. Wind can likewise
be a real problem. To secure your music in a breeze, buy some thin,
springy hair clips (clothes pins cover too much of the page). Accept
that at some point you're certain to be set upon by an, er, loquacious
guest with an emphatic request. If you can't honor it, offer something
in a related style or by a similar composer, then start playing. Acknowledge
compliments graciously, keep your business cards handy, and above all
remember to smile. Perhaps the greatest reward of playing for weddings
is knowing that you're sustaining the ancient tradition of live music
on meaningful occasions. You get cake and champagne, too.
Photo by John Thomas Photography.
