Large and small music competitions where juries decide who advances to which round, who gets to participate in a final, and who may or may not win or achieve a prominent placement have faced considerable criticism for years on end. "How is that possible?", "Why not this one?", or yes, sometimes there's enthusiastic universal agreement as well.

Once upon a time, the public could voice their disapproval with plenty of "BOO!" calls. It had a certain something, though it was never something that made the person being booed feel good about it. The hecklers didn't always have it in for the winner—often, almost always, they were really taking aim at the jury. Eventually, the more civilized competition organizers got fed up, and only applause and "bravo!" calls were permitted.

"BOO!" became taboo, and anyone who dares try it now receives nothing but a hall full of angry glares. The sometimes critical remarks from the specialized press are also ancient history. It seems everyone has to be perfectly obedient and well-behaved, and no one is allowed to form their own opinion anymore. Yet that's one of the fascinating elements for audiences at competitions. Whether it's a small regional competition or a large well-known international one, it doesn't really matter much on that front.

For the sake of appearances, the cat licks the candlestick

During the Cold War period, it was a given at major international competitions that if a Russian was allowed to win one time, then an American had to win the next time, and vice versa. Eventually, things got so out of hand that result-manipulating juries and competition organizers under political pressure simply couldn't continue. The public wouldn't swallow it anymore, and there was a real risk that these competitions would lose their name and reputation entirely. But already before the Cold War and before World War II, international and economic interests played a role in awarding first place and other prizes.

Whoever has ever sat on a jury and is honest with the candidates being judged, honest with themselves, honest with the music, will rarely have a judgment that completely matches the final result. Points get adjusted (don't say it's not true), sometimes there's contentious debate, demands are made, people are pressured, and so on. However noble it all may appear, sometimes it's more appearance than substance. Behind closed doors, everyone gets along so well and agrees so completely, but just wait until you're in the back room where the deliberations happen.

A candidate's country of origin alone can determine how far they advance in a competition and whether they win a major prize or just miss out. Is it a country that's in conflict with the host country? Is it a country with major economic interests or none at all? Does it supply raw materials? Are they important financial backers? All these elements help determine how far a musician can advance. In most cases, the candidates are unaware of the behind-the-scenes manipulations and how extensive they can be. Sometimes they're surprised to find themselves in a final and then win best place or one of the other top positions.

What's the point of a system that today is back to being as bad as, or worse than, it was during the Cold War years? True talent has to lose out to highly trained instrumentalists. So thoroughly 'drilled' that they can also pull it off at competitions without all manner of manipulations, but afterwards, in only very exceptional cases, build a lifelong career as a world-renowned musician. In many cases, then, it's more about prestige, politics, and money than about honest quality and support for talent. That's the downside of these attention-grabbing competitions, while all that attention meanwhile can't be devoted to truly performing musicians anywhere, even if it's on a small village street.

And yet (major international) competitions do have some merit. There are always driven young talents who enter, and you can discover them in the first selection rounds. Even if they don't make it to a final, anyone with the right ear will spot them among the others and bring them in. How many winners and laureates of other top places and prizes can look back on a fantastic career? Few. How many non-selected candidates can? In any case, more.
How many winners and laureates from other top positions and prizes can look back on a fantastic career? Few.
How many non-selected candidates can do that? Quite a few, at least.
A competition is in that sense still a good thing, because you can always discover talent, whatever the final result may be. It's those talents that usually make all the difference. For the 'bred-for-the-ring show horses' – unfortunately, they exist – things look far less rosy. Many of them fall into a black hole after their competitive careers end. Sometimes they've racked up quite an impressive résumé with prominent placements and all the prestigious teachers they studied with (and let's face it, those teachers need to pay the bills too). Once they age out of competition, they're essentially forgotten. Is that really what we want?

Isn't it high time for organizers of large and small competitions alike to do some serious soul-searching and really think about what they're doing? Don't give people false hope by letting them win a competition, and don't discourage people by denying them a spot in the finals. Or was Béla Bartók perhaps right with his provocative statement: 'Competitions are for horses, not for artists'?

Opinion piece submitted anonymously