I’ve Been on Both Sides of the Score

As someone who started their career touring with the National Symphony Orchestra—first as an intern, then growing alongside seasoned musicians –I’ve seen the inner workings of an orchestra up close. Later, I joined a national broadcast orchestra, performing reimagined pop with renowned singers, jazz standards, and even live TV productions. (For those unfamiliar, think Dua Lipa performing with the Metropolitan Orchestra at Royal Albert Hall—that kind of sound.)

That was my everyday life. No filters. No shortcuts.

Music Icon Dua Lipa concerts with The Heritage Orchestra at Royal Albert Hall. Source : The Heritage Orchestra

A Career That Started in the Practice Room, Not the Boardroom

I began with classical music because it’s the root of everything. From Bach to Tchaikovsky, every period – baroque, classical, romantic – demands its own discipline: phrasing, bowing technique, color, dynamics. That meant hours of solitary practice –sometimes 6 to 8 hours a day. No movies. Weekends is concert/ showtimes. There was no time for gossip (though my teenage soul might have tempted to join the ‘gossip girls’!). It was just me, my violin, and endless hours of practice in the studio. Isolated, but fulfilled. Every concert felt like a reward. That was my version of joy.

At university, my days were split between lectures, rehearsals, and outside gigs I took to keep learning, evolving, and doing what I loved most – playing violin. Concert rehearsals would begin in the afternoon, dress rehearsals might stretch until 11 PM. I’d then drive myself – just at 19, still full of fire, energy on the quiet highway back to my rental room, about 40km away from the city. It was always late, always alone. I’d usually reach home around 1 AM –only to remember that an assignment was due the next morning, where all of my classmates had already finished while I was still rehearsing. 

Photo www.violinist.com

I wasn’t the only one. Many music students walk this line–studying, hustling, isolating, hoping one day their grit would be understood, for the sake of passion. 

So yes, when I read that a tech millionaire paid $400,000 to conduct Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, I felt that twinge. That raw edge. Because I get it – I understand how deeply frustrating it can feel to see someone hold a baton they didn’t earn the hard way.

The Great Divide: Classical vs Jazz, Hustler vs Patron

There’s an ongoing unspoken feud in the music world: the jazz cats vs the classical purists. Classical musicians joke about how jazz is too freeform, while jazz musicians roast classical players for being too stiff and dependent on sheet music. I started on the classical side, but my heart was drawn toward jazz – its colors, its freedom.

That duality taught me a lot: there’s discipline in both. But there’s also ego in both. And now that I’ve stepped into the business world –having once built and sold a music academy –my lens has shifted again.

Miles Davis Jazz Musician / Getty Image

From the Pit to the Pitch Deck: Music and Business Must Dance

Here’s the truth most musicians don’t want to hear: orchestras cannot survive without patrons. And most patrons are business owners.

National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Nasran Nawi. Photo :Music Press Asia

You need capital to fund an orchestra. Quality musicians require quality instruments – violins easily cost SGD $12,000 and up. Drummers, bassists, wind players, all carry the cost of owning and maintaining their tools of expression. Add to that rehearsal fees, venue hire, technical crew, transportation, and more.

To run a full orchestra? Depending on the country, monthly maintenance alone can exceed USD $100,000 –not including performances. That’s a full startup’s burn rate.

Orchestras struggle with low ticket sales and aging audiences. If a corporate sponsor doesn’t see a transactional return, they’ll cut support. Passion doesn’t always translate into profits, and we can't ignore that reality.

So, Was the $400K Baton a Power Move or Passion Play?

Back to the Toronto story. Mandle Cheung, a 78-year-old tech CEO, paid to conduct Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony. No formal training. Just personal passion.

Was it “no money, no talk”? Maybe.

Was it disrespectful to those who’ve trained their whole lives to be on that stage? It can feel that way.

Mandle Cheung paid USD400k to conduct Mahler. Photo www.ludwig-van.com

But let’s hold that complexity.

Because if we, as musicians, truly want our craft to be seen and valued by the world –we have to start inviting people in. Even if they don’t look like us. Even if they’re amateurs with money instead of degrees.

What If This Could Be More?

What if, instead of stopping at a single night of indulgence, we start finding ways to make these moments serve the larger community?

What if wealthy patrons like Cheung were invited not just to “guest conduct” once – but to help fund a mentorship program for young conductors?

What if this $400K baton sparked an endowment for marginalized musicians who can’t even afford their first violin?

What if the fusion of passion and privilege birthed legacy, not just ego?

My Final Note

Having lived both the intensity of orchestral life and the realities of running a business, I don’t believe we should gatekeep art. But I also don’t believe art should become a playground for the privileged. 

Music is sacred. And if someone outside our world wants to come in –they should bring value, not just vanity. They should leave the stage not just with applause, but having made a lasting difference.

Until then, the rest of us will keep showing up–with our calloused fingers, sleepless nights, and battered violin cases–because music isn’t something we bought. It’s something we bled for.

common callouses fingers on violinist

Adinazeti Adnan is a classically trained violinist for more that 15 years whose journey began with national symphony tours and later transitioned into broadcast orchestras, performing reimagined pop and jazz works. She now serves as Editor-in-Chief of 22Muse Media, a Southeast Asian digital magazine dedicated to culture, business, and orchestral storytelling.