Like rock and the symphony: The multi-dimensional, multi-layered beauty of good communication
I went to a show recently. The artist, Amos Lee, is, according to Wikipedia, “an American singer-songwriter whose musical style encompasses folk, rock, and soul.” The venue was The Auditorium Theater in Chicago, an absolutely stunning vintage venue that continues to evoke the golden era of theater going it was built to showcase. Accompanying the headlining performer was…the Chicago Philharmonic.
I like Amos Lee. I like the symphony. I went to the show so obviously I expected to like the combination. And it did not disappoint. There were the two separate experiences of rock and symphony when one style or the other was showcased in a song. The lyrics (as always) had something to add. There were the interludes when Lee spoke to the audience—stories, anecdotes, how the performance came to be—which brought another dimension. And then there were the moments where both music styles came together in the most unique way, the rock adding a hardness to the symphony and the symphony adding a whimsy or charm to the rock. In short, by combining to seemingly disparate entities (rock and symphony), the multi-dimensional, multi-layered results were extraordinary.
And in the moment—thought no one ever until then—I thought, “This is how good communication works.”
So often we think about communication as putting thoughts, declarations, opinions out. This can be in the form of leaders pushing formal executive memos or press statements ad nauseum, or in town halls that feature only the organization’s top executive team speaking to script. It can also happen personally between couples, within families, among friends. It is the communication version of the solo act and the presumably adoring audience.
But, like my recent show, something extraordinary happens when we remember that communication is not just about what we put out. It is that, of course. But it is also about what others put out. Every instrument contributes something unique that adds a richness to the music. It is about what was intended—the sheet music, if you will—and what is sparked organically. It’s about listening—to the drumbeat, the bass line, the vocalist—processing what you hear and responding. It’s about practice. If you expect to perform together—or even solo—well, you must put in the practice hours.
In a professional setting, this looks like the questions portion of investor days and earnings announcements. It can happen in client focus groups that encompass leaders as well as junior and mid-level team members. It can come to life through reverse mentoring, employee-led advisory boards and task forces that span career levels to address challenges highlighted by employee engagement surveys.
In a personal setting, it may look like a question as simple as “How can I help?” It can happen when we remind ourselves to simply and actively listen rather than composing our response simultaneously—especially in conflict conversations. It’s absolutely about ensuring what was said and was heard are in sync, and then taking the time to compose a reflective response. There are as many tools for orchestrating conversations that perform well as there are instruments that can contribute to a powerful musical performance.
And then, professional or personal, we practice. We practice our own part. We practice listening. We practice processing and responding. We practice. It is the difference between polite applause and a standing ovation.