THE FRIDAY FEATURE: James Zimmermann
THE FRIDAY FEATURE: James Zimmermann
A clarinetist, obsessive breadmaker takes the stage!
Today on THE FRIDAY FEATURE James Zimmermann joins us, who is an accomplished classical musician as a clarinetist, a self-proclaimed “obsessive” breadmaker (his bread is a work of art), and general life lover and extraordinary person, who knows both deep suffering and deep joy. I am happy to host James here today and think you’ll enjoy this very much! It’s not every day you see an interview with a first chair clarinetist whose work is found even in some of the biggest pop culture items.
KAY CLARITY: Thanks so much for coming on THE FRIDAY FEATURE this week, James!
JAMES ZIMMERMANN: Thanks for having me!
KC: To start, would you tell us a little of your story? How you got to be a professional musician, what it has meant to you—and also how you ended up in the little “land of misfit toys” that many of us have found ourselves in as artists?
JZ: I grew up in New Jersey as an only child of showbiz parents, which afforded me great exposure to all the performing arts from the get go. I got my start in local advertising and community theater, then I took up dance (which led to a year-long stint in a Broadway show when I was 9 years old), but in high school I chose to pursue music instead of acting and dancing, not only because I loved music the most, but I foresaw musician life as the most likely to give me the chance to be a good husband and father.
KC: What are some of your best experiences as a musician?
JZ: I've been fortunate to perform all over the world, both in beautiful concert halls and storied recording studios, but the most rewarding experiences are when my playing intertwines with regular people's everyday lives. For example, now that I work in tech, I enjoy talking to my coworkers about projects I've played on, like the soundtrack for the video game "The Last of Us," which was recently turned into an HBO miniseries. My friends at work got a kick out of hearing how I played on those sessions back in 2012! This kind of thing even happens in my own home: I have three daughters, and I recently strolled through our living room as they were watching a "My Little Pony" movie on Netflix and I heard my clarinet sound piping out of the television! It's surreal knowing how many people have heard my playing, be it in a concert hall, a theme park, or right in their living room.
KC: What do you miss the most in this season where you are playing less and focused on other work?
JZ: I miss the camaraderie of working amongst musicians all day long, but thanks to modern technology, it's not hard to connect with my musical kinfolk all around the globe. I've also learned that if I miss making music, there's nothing stopping me from making it myself right here in my house. That seems obvious to me now, but when I was in the thick of my transition to software engineering, it wasn't.
KC: Not unrelated from your personal story and experience, what’s your perception of the arts, and especially classical music, in America? Where are you discouraged, and where do you see the potential for hope?
JZ: The arts (at least the institutionalized arts like orchestras, theaters, and publishing companies) have been enslaved by ideology over the last decade, which has been disastrous for artistic creativity and morale. The threat of ostracization and social death has paralyzed musicians, dancers, and actors who rely on good social standing to collect a paycheck, meaning that in the current landscape, freedom of expression typically takes a back seat to political correctness. The irony is that while artists were once hailed as some of the most courageous people among us, believing so strongly in the pursuit of beauty that they're willing to sacrifice the potential of living a "normal" life, the vast majority of successful "artists" all parroted the same ideological fodder when it became fashionable to do so in 2020. Discouraging as that was, there were some few of us with the resolve to stand strong for free expression, even if it meant being exiled from an industry that was once hospitable to us. Having found a handful of those rare folks on Twitter over the last few years has kept my hope alive.
KC: Do you have thoughts about how the arts have become so hostile to free thinkers? How did we get here?
JZ: There's a misunderstanding of what "freedom" means when it comes to the arts. Art is an effective tool for blurring boundaries, but without at least a few limitations, we risk devolving into complete chaos, which in the arts manifests as unintelligible poetry, aimless music, and ugly paintings. Consequently, the focus in the arts seems to have shifted from aesthetics to activism, where the artform's proximity to "The Current Thing" determines its value. I've always been drawn to art because it provides respite from the toil of daily life and orients us towards the beautiful, but now that the boundary separating the stage from the streets has been dissolved almost entirely, the institutionalized arts have lost their legitimacy.
KC: Does excellence still matter? What’s your take on where we are at in the arts with this concept of excellence?
JZ: Excellence still matters, just not nearly as much as it used to. The obsession with "equity" within arts organizations has banished the concept of excellence to the back burner, and "excellence" has been redefined to include not only the merit of your work, but also which boxes you check regarding race, gender, and sexual orientation. For this reason, some artists are deemed to be more or less excellent than others before we've seen their work, which is antithetical to the artistic endeavor itself! The allure of art lies in losing your worldly identity in pursuit of whatever you're creating, so without the ability to separate yourself from who you are in "real life," what is art useful for other than political activism? If you've been paying attention to the arts for the last decade, the answer is obvious: Not much.
KC: You share your beautiful homemade bread often online. It’s exquisite! My sourdough is nowhere near as beautiful as yours, but for me it’s very therapeutic to get into some of the home arts like this. Any thoughts on that aspect of things—how the modern world can benefit from getting back to some of these basics? And what started this new passion for you? Does it feel related to your life as an artist? (I’ll put a photo of it here!)
JZ: Thank you! Breadmaking is less a passion than it is an obsession, and I'm glad to be self-aware enough to draw that distinction. I'd been making my own bread for many years (in a bread machine) but a year ago, I asked one of my best friends who took up the craft during the pandemic to help me get off the ground, and I quickly discovered I had a knack for it. The benefits of breadmaking are numerous, but as a practicing Christian, the deepening of my understanding of symbology has been by far the most meaningful benefit of the endeavor. Like music, bread is somewhat mysterious, but not so mysterious we can't appreciate its intrinsic beauty. My life in the arts has instilled in me the notion that there is great satisfaction in approaching everything you do as an opportunity to bring beauty and meaning into a world starving for both, and bread is no exception. It's more clear to me now than ever that Christ knew exactly what He was doing when he instituted the sacrament at His final meal with the disciples: He turned bread, something familiar to everyone, into a ritual of remembrance. That, for me, is the essence of beauty: Something simple enough for a child to understand, but limitless enough in its profundity that a lifetime of contemplation is not enough to grasp it in full.
KC: You shared a while back about the loss of your wife and how difficult it can be to find chances to talk about that and share about your life and experience in that; our culture seems to have trouble navigating grief and sorrow. I’d love to have you share what you’d like about her, and that experience, and grief’s dovetailing with your life as an artist. C.S. Lewis’s “A Grief Observed” comes to mind, which was a great comfort to me in navigating some of my childhood losses, but maybe your experience has been very different.
JZ: The crucial takeaway from losing my first wife was that it's possible to rebuild a life from the ground up. For this reason, when I was faced with the difficult choice between my symphony career and my integrity, it was a no-brainer -- I knew it would be excruciating to lose so much of what I'd worked for as an artist, but I figured if I could rebuild my family, I could rebuild my career, too. What I failed to anticipate was how much more it hurt to be betrayed than it did to be suddenly alone -- when you get canceled, there are liars and backstabbers to blame, but death is irreversible, and therefore much easier to move on from. Without suffering that loss, and the lessons I learned about moving forward in faith, I never could have stood up to my "friends" in the symphony the way I did. Both losses still sting from time to time, but given the immensity of what I've learned along the way, inner peace is never far from me.
KC: Tell us a little about what it means to be a clarinetist and what you love about the instrument: what should everyone know about it that very few outside of fellow clarinetists would know?
JZ: The clarinet is an instrument most people are familiar with -- seems like I've heard "I used to play clarinet in grade school" a thousand times over the years! That said, there are a couple qualities the clarinet has that separate it from the other woodwinds. Number one is its unusually wide range, which means we mix equally well with low instruments (like the cello or trombone) as we do with higher instruments (like the flute or violin). Thus, the clarinetist must learn the ins and outs of every instrument (as we find ourselves fraternizing frequently with our friends all across the ensemble), and we find ourselves equally at home in all genres, from classical, to jazz, to pop, and everything in between. Secondly, unlike most other instruments, clarinetists do not traditionally engage in vibrato the way virtually all other instruments do, opting instead for a straight, unwavering tone that "spins" instead of "shakes." For this reason, when playing with others, we play a steadying role, encouraging our compatriots to cool down their intensity of tone and situate their sounds on our bed of solidity. In hindsight, it's utterly unsurprising I was unshakeable in the midst of the ideological takeover of my former orchestra. I'm a clarinetist, so calming the crazies is what I do, day in, and day out!
KC: Is there anywhere we can see or hear you play? Do you have any plans for your future as a musician you’d be ready to share yet?
JZ: I haven't been performing on the concert hall stage too often since 2020, but I have some ideas knocking around about how to get back out there. Until then, you'll hear me at the movies, on the streets of Disney World (playing "Begin the Beguine"), and on my various social media channels. I'm finally rebuilt enough professionally that I can formulate musical dreams again -- I hope to make them real in the not-too-distant future!
KC: Where can people find you and keep up with what you are doing?
JZ: If you follow me on Twitter (@jameszimmermann) or Instagram (@slimzim) or YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/jameszimmermann), that's where I post what I'm up to!
KC: Thanks so much for taking the time with this interview, James. So nice to be connected, and I’m glad so many more get to be introduced to you.
JZ: My pleasure -- it's wonderful to lift each other up in our search for beauty. Thank you kindly for the invitation!