This Wasn’t On the Syllabus

After I won my first orchestra job in the Sarasota Orchestra, I quickly realized that playing in a professional ensemble required a set of skills that go far beyond just watching the baton and listening to the orchestra.

Ten years ago, standing on stage after winning the gold medal at the 10th USA International Harp Competition, I thought I had made it. I had spent years polishing repertoire, refining my technique, and preparing for high-pressure performances. In my mind the hard part was done. I assumed that a successful career in music would be a linear continuation of my conservatory training.

Conservatories and music schools do an extraordinary job of teaching us our craft: how to play the harp beautifully. But as Harp Column editor Alison Reese and I were discussing, the real-world music landscape has evolved much more quickly than higher education has. This leaves many emerging professionals with incredible playing skills but real gaps in what it actually takes to build a career.

The last decade has taught me that winning competitions and orchestra auditions only proves you can play the harp well. Building a sustainable music career requires an entirely different skill set. In school you spend thousands of hours on hand position, tone production, solo repertoire, and orchestra excerpts. But the professional world requires learning how to advocate for yourself, market yourself, manage burnout, handle the psychological pressures of a music career, and so much more.

Whether you are currently preparing for college auditions, in the middle of your degree, or stepping into your first years as a professional, here are 10 practical skills I wish I had known when I was in your shoes.

1. Practicing Deliberately (Quality Over Quantity)

When I was a student at Juilliard, I usually had enough hours to throw at music that I could learn everything I needed through sheer repetition. I didn’t really have a clear method or structure for practicing. My default mode was “mindless practice,” which might sound familiar to many:

• Playing through a piece starting from the beginning and stopping once you encounter a difficulty.
• Repeating that problem spot over and over until it temporarily improves.
• Continuing on through the piece until you encounter the next problem spot, and repeating this same cycle until you reach the end of the piece.

It wasn’t until after I graduated and started voraciously reading Noa Kageyama’s blog, Bulletproof Musician, that I learned about the concept of “deliberate practice.”

Here’s how Kageyama describes deliberate practice in a six-step framework:

• Define the problem. (What do I want this note/phrase to sound like?)
• Analyze the problem. (What is causing it to sound like this?)
• Identify potential solutions. (What can I tweak to make it sound more like I want?)
• Test the potential solutions to select the most effective one. (What tweaks seem to work best?)
• Implement the best solution. (Make these changes permanent.)
• Monitor implementation. (Do these changes continue to produce the results I’m looking for?)

After I left school, I started using voice memos and video recordings as a central part of my practicing to accurately identify issues and practice what specifically needed work, rather than just running things from start to finish. This became essential when I was working in an orchestra and simultaneously trying to prepare for other orchestra auditions on top of a heavy schedule. I didn’t have time to waste on mindless practice. Now I teach my students how to deliberately practice from day one so they can cultivate this efficiency early on.

2. Teaching Effectively (and Overcoming “Expert Blindspot”)

My first foray into teaching came during my two-year stint as the American Harp Society Concert Artist. I visited 23 cities throughout the U.S. to give recitals and masterclasses. Going into this experience I had no idea that masterclasses were an integral part of the Concert Artist program! Having zero teaching background, I was thrown straight into the deep end.

I was really confident in playing my instrument (I could play a 90-minute memorized solo recital effortlessly.) But during those first several masterclasses, I was so nervous that I felt sick to my stomach. Teaching publicly in front of other harpists and the students’ teachers made it even more terrifying. I struggled to articulate what I wanted to hear differently from the students because I was experiencing “expert blindspot.” This phenomenon happens when a skilled musician has trouble understanding or remembering what it’s like to be a beginner. Because physical mechanics and musicianship have become so intuitive and effortless for an expert, it can be difficult to explain these concepts to someone less advanced.

Although I’ve always been positive and kind as a teacher, I wasn’t initially equipped with the more concrete tools to teach effectively. I grew more comfortable over time as I gained more teaching experience, but I didn’t truly feel confident until I actually studied pedagogy and read many books on the subject. Learning how to break complex concepts into more digestible ideas is a crucial skill that I wish I had developed sooner. Now, instead of just telling a student what to do, I ask thoughtful questions like, “What did you hear that was different this time?” or “What could you adjust to make it sound more like X?” that direct them to evaluate their own playing rather than only relying on me to correct them. I also send written notes after every lesson so students leave remembering what we discussed and can apply it to their practicing throughout the week.

3. Orchestra Skills Beyond Watching the Conductor

After I won my first orchestra job in the Sarasota Orchestra, I quickly realized that playing in a professional ensemble required a set of skills that go far beyond just watching the baton and listening to the orchestra.

• Checking my timing with recordings: I had to stop simply assuming what I thought I heard from my seat on stage was accurate, and start using recordings to objectively evaluate my timing. I was surprised to find that my playing wasn’t always as together as I thought it was. I don’t have to do this often now, but it was very important in my earlier years on the job.
• Anticipating instead of reacting: When I first started out my tendency was to play a bit late because I was “listening so carefully.” In reality, sitting at the back of the stage means an over-reliance on listening makes your playing reactive and at that point your sound is already late to the audience. I had to learn when to take an anticipatory approach so my notes spoke with the rest of the orchestra.
• Reframing mistakes as data: I started trying to treat each rehearsal or performance as an opportunity to do better, reframing mistakes as neutral data for what to adjust in the next service rather than beating myself up over them.
• Seeking feedback from the hall: I learned how invaluable it is to get candid feedback on balance and timing from assistant conductors or colleagues sitting out in the audience. Looking back, I wish I had been even more eager to seek out this audience-point-of-view feedback during my student days at summer festivals like Aspen.
• Deep score study: Score study is so much more than just writing instrument cues into your part; it’s about listening enough before the first rehearsal that you’ve internalized the complete orchestral picture. When you know the rest of the orchestra’s music and nuances as deeply as your own part, you gain the freedom to react and adjust seamlessly in real time.

4. Using Contracts to Protect Your Work and Ensure Payment

When I first started teaching private lessons and playing freelance gigs, I frequently found myself having to send multiple follow-up messages to remind clients or parents to pay me. I felt bad about bugging people, so I was nice on the surface, but those situations often left me feeling frustrated and resentful. I lacked a system that allowed me to stand up for myself.

I’ve since realized that having a signed contract or a studio policy doesn’t make you “too intense” or “mean.” It simply establishes professionalism. It signals to clients that what you do is your business, not just a hobby. Laying out payment deadlines, cancellation windows, and rates in a signed agreement takes the emotion out of payment conversations and makes policy enforcement easier.

5. Advocating for Yourself and Negotiating Pay

I used to be terrified of negotiation until I learned to reframe it. Negotiation is actually collaboration, not combat.

At conservatories, there is often this pervasive culture that implies, “If you’re lucky enough to win an orchestra job, you’ll be set,” with the assumption that therefore learning business and negotiation skills isn’t necessary.

Because of that mindset, I didn’t even know I could negotiate my personal orchestra contracts until I started my third orchestra job. Looking back, I really regret that. Failing to negotiate causes a negative domino effect; it fails to set up better financial baselines for the harpists who succeed you in those positions after you leave. I also severely undervalued myself in the first several years of my career when setting gig and lesson rates, even as an international competition winner and principal harpist. Part of it was an irrational fear that charging higher rates meant every lesson I taught had to be earth-shatteringly good, as if the price tag alone would create pressure I couldn’t live up to. Now, I’ve learned to price my work fairly, recognize my worth, and trust that the opportunities aligned with my professional value will come. I stopped worrying that “they’ll just hire somebody else.” If they do, it means that opportunity wasn’t the right fit for me.

Negotiation is a crucial skill to practice no matter what shape your music career takes. Once, during a studio class I taught on negotiation, a student asked me, “But if someone is reaching out to hire me specifically for a concert, doesn’t that mean they already value my work?” Unfortunately, no, it doesn’t necessarily, because keeping costs low is usually the other side’s priority. I can’t even count the number of times my work has been undervalued despite my significant credentials.

I used to be terrified of negotiation until I learned to reframe it. Negotiation is actually collaboration, not combat. It isn’t you versus them. Effective negotiation requires empathy: understanding what the other party needs, and showing them how your visions overlap. One of the most important rules I live by now is, “You will never get what you don’t ask for.” Certain expenses aren’t even going to be on people’s radar unless you bring them up. Asking isn’t rude; asking is professional. The musicians who thrive long term are the ones who ask.

6. Using Social Media to Create Paid Opportunities

My use of social media, especially Instagram, has evolved significantly over the years. Early in my career, I used it mostly as a portfolio to post about cool performances, big career announcements, or clips of my playing. Although I built an audience, sharing my achievements alone didn’t create a genuine connection with them. I wasn’t posting in a way that provided value so it didn’t result in paid work.

I have learned that in order for people to hire you, first they have to trust you. Reading Seth Godin’s book This Is Marketing changed how I thought about this. His idea that marketing is really a form of service, generously offering something useful before ever asking for anything in return, reframed how I wanted to show up online. I shifted my approach to sharing my honest thoughts and experiences, showing people that I sometimes struggle like everyone else, and explaining how I’ve worked through difficult situations. Being relatable is the strongest way to build trust and connection with your audience.

Additionally, instead of posting performance clips with generic captions like “I hope you enjoy,” I started sharing an inside look into my learning process or offering specific practice recommendations for pieces. I began posting educational content about music business skills, harp-specific tips, audition advice, and orchestra expertise. These things helped establish my presence as an educator in addition to a performer, which directly resulted in private teaching inquiries, interest from prospective SFCM applicants, masterclass bookings, and podcast invitations. I encourage my own students to view their social media presence through this lens: post in a way that reflects the same type of work you hope to attract.

7. Saying “No” to Avoid Burnout

In school, we are conditioned to say “yes” to every single opportunity because we are eager to build connections and secure as much work as possible. While that hustle is useful early on, nobody teaches us how to cut back as our priorities shift over time. Saying “no” can make us feel guilty, like we’re letting others down or we’re missing out.

Over the last few years, I have turned down invitations to guest perform with other orchestras saying yes would have meant taking time away from my position at San Francisco Symphony, canceling lessons with my students, and losing quality time with my husband. Each time, I had to sit with the discomfort of turning down something that looked impressive on paper. Part of me worried that declining meant I wasn’t ambitious enough, or that I’d become irrelevant if I wasn’t agreeing to everything. But I have come to realize I don’t need to prove my relevance by saying yes to everything that comes my way. Now, when I decline, I feel at peace knowing I’m choosing what aligns with my life, not just what looks best from the outside.

I am still learning how to realistically assess my capacity and choose only the opportunities that fulfill me artistically and professionally. It’s a daily struggle, and I constantly have to remind myself that I can’t pour from an empty cup, especially with teaching, where I give so much energy and care to others. Being selective is necessary for me to bring excellence to the projects and opportunities that matter most.

8. Professional Etiquette Beyond Your Playing

Contractors and personnel managers rarely hire someone based on their playing alone. They hire people who are reliable, prompt, and easy to work with.

Here are three of the biggest professional lessons I’ve learned in this area:

• Communicate Promptly: I learned some lessons the hard way early in my career by not responding promptly enough to inquiries, and I quickly realized that in the gig economy, responsiveness equals dependability. Develop a habit of answering professional inquiries within 24 hours, even if it is just a quick note saying, “Thank you for reaching out! I am checking my calendar and will confirm my availability by tomorrow morning.” Leaving someone hanging for days while you figure out your schedule often means they will move on to the next person on their list.
• Be a Good Hang: Being a genuinely nice person and someone your colleagues enjoy sitting next to matters just as much as your playing does. Your playing might get you the first gig, but how you treat the people around you is what gets you invited back. Being easygoing, open to feedback, and non-defensive when adjustments are requested goes a long way.
• Zero Presumption: No matter how talented you are or what school you went to, no gig, sub opportunity, or recommendation is owed to you. Treat every single opportunity, whether big or small, with genuine professionalism, humility, gratitude, and respect.

9. Managing Imposter Syndrome

Even after winning USAIHC and landing multiple orchestra positions, I struggled with imposter syndrome. In fact, it actually grew more intense and evolved the more I accomplished. Some nights on stage, if my timing wasn’t quite as precise as I wanted in a passage, my mind would spiral: did I really deserve to win this audition? Was I actually good enough to be sitting in this chair? A single imperfect moment in a two-hour concert was enough to undo, in my head, everything I’d worked to prove.

Over time I came to understand that feeling insecure doesn’t mean I’m not qualified; it just means I care deeply about what I do and hold myself to an incredibly high standard. Confidence and self-doubt aren’t mutually exclusive, either. I am confident in my playing and recognize my own value, but occasional waves of doubt still surface, even when I know better. The key is to prevent that insecurity from paralyzing me by channeling those thoughts into a growth mindset. Reframing my insecurities into opportunities for growth helps me take tangible, proactive steps towards improving the specific areas I feel less secure in. Instead of letting self-doubt discourage me, I use it as a guide for what to focus on next in my musical and professional skill development.

I also believe it’s important to be transparent with my own students about these conversations. Most musicians at every level experience these insecurities but not everyone is open about it. Sharing my journey with them shows that there is nothing wrong with them for feeling this way too.

To build confidence, it helps to rely on evidence rather than emotion. Try keeping a digital “wins folder:” save kind emails from colleagues, positive notes from students, and recordings that you’re really proud of. When self-doubt creeps in, open the folder and let the evidence speak for itself.

10. Viewing Your Education as a Lifelong Journey

When we’re in school we tend to view graduation as the finish line. But in reality, getting a degree is just the beginning of your learning process.

When we’re in school we tend to view graduation as the finish line. But in reality, getting a degree is just the beginning of your learning process.

Your first decade post-college is not a high-stakes test where you have to get everything right on the first try. You will make mistakes: you will under-quote on gigs, misjudge tricky professional situations, and have rough nights on stage. Everyone encounters setbacks and learning curves, but knowing that you can figure out a better path forward is ultimately what matters.

The further I get into my career the more deeply aware I am of how much I don’t know, and that humility is actually a superpower. One of the most empowering realizations I’ve had in recent years is how much incredible knowledge is so readily available to us. There is a book or a podcast on virtually any niche topic you could possibly imagine. When I feel out of my depth with a certain subject, I do deep dives into it, whether it’s around marketing, social media strategy, negotiating, pedagogy, or anything else.

Instead of feeling daunted by how much information is still out there to learn, I try to recognize what a gift it is to have access to it. Experiencing the joy and insatiable curiosity of learning new things is what keeps a music career vibrant, invigorating, and fulfilling over many decades.