MAESTRO: A Surprising Story about Leading by Listening.
By Roger Nierenberg. New York: Portfolio, 2009. 128 pp. Hardback. $19.95
This book is not about the conductor character from the
Seinfeld
television show, who insisted everyone call him “Maestro,” though it is written in an entertaining style. It is a volume of advice to the would-be leader on how to inspire the best performance from an organization, using an extended hypothetical of a fictitious maestro, written by a management consultant who in fact is a real-life maestro.
Like diet books, management books present all perspectives. They may be divided roughly into those based on personal experience, such as the recent
How to Castrate a Bull: Unexpected Lessons on Risk, Growth, and Success in Business
, by Dave Hitz, who founded NetApp; and those based on academic research, such as the acclaimed
Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap . . . and Other’s Don’t
, by Jim Collins, a professor who carried out numerous case studies. This book, however, belongs to neither category. It uses the story of a junior executive who by happenstance finds himself, while trying to resolve the conflicts typical in the offices satirized in comic strips, listening to an orchestra and watching an inspiring conductor bring together a diverse group of musicians rehearsing Mendelssohn’s “Scottish” Symphony. He is surprised the maestro is not yelling at his musicians, telling them what to do.
The author, Roger Nierenberg, has led the Stamford, Connecticut, and Jacksonville, Florida, symphonies. While none of his regular assignments ranks among the “Big Five,” that likely makes Nierenberg more experienced in management rather than less so. After all, the most prestigious institutions usually have greater resources and fewer material challenges. His success with these ensembles gives him credibility, and he has developed a sideline as a speaker offering the same program, entitled “The Music Paradigm,” which he presents in printed form here. As with music itself, the live show is probably better than the recorded rendition.
Nierenberg’s points are conventional. It’s crucial to listen, generate a sense of stakeholding, and avoid micromanaging (“don’t oversee every note”). The best leaders are focused on the future, not the past: “[T]he maestro advises, ‘a leader must commit to that which has not yet happened.’” Their followers are empowered, but feel they are members of a team. What matters is the totality of the sound, not individual performances. These arguments are much more persuasive when presented through a story, not delivered directly as arguments.
The only quibble that might be raised is that orchestras—that is, modern, professional orchestras—contain performers by and large who meet the highest standards of competence. Or, at least, they certainly seem to function at an extraordinarily high level of talent, even compared to accounts of their predecessors of centuries ago. The imaginary admirer of the maestro complains that his job in the company is different from the role of wielding the baton on the podium because he has no score to follow. The better objection is that he likely has more than his share of incompetents in the workplace.
For anyone who must contend in their job with that most difficult task, managing other people, this book will be useful. And for any manager who also likes classical music, it will be a most engaging read.
Frank H. Wu
