Collaboration for the Megalomaniac

As I am shopping for a new car, I've been noticing all the different designs of cars, and the evolution of various models throughout the years. Some of them are really quite beautiful, and a few have them have really struck a chord with me in terms of taste and desirability. What impresses me most is how a car, even though it is mass produced, is a product of our culture and can be said to be beautiful - and yet it is a product of massive collaborative effort. One mind does not make a car, and there are really so many considerations that have to be made in order for a car to be designed, produced and marketed, running the gamut of designers, executives, consumers, safety guidelines, etc. How is it possible that every car design is not simply "mush" - a lowest common denominator output from the mess of too many cooks in the kitchen? Quite often this is in fact the case, and many cars do indeed look alike. But what about the Mazda RX-8, or the Volkswagon Beatle? Or the second generation Mitsubishi Eclipse?

Movies are the same way. There are many, many people with all sorts of motivations involved in film-making - investors, producers, actors, writers, directors, musicians. And they work together, tirelessly (or at least endlessly). Collaboration is necessary, given the amount of funds involved, the various types of expertise needed, and the interests of diverse parties. Again, like in cars, the results are not always astounding. And yet, occasionally Hollywood hits a sweet spot, and some amazing fusion of minds rises far above the realm of compromise, and we get matchings like Hitchkock-Hermann, Lucas-Williams or Burton-Depp-Elfman.

I am wondering why composers of classical music don't engage in collaborations more. In most fields I can think of, people work together at least occasionally on joint projects, often sharing authorship. Many important scientific papers credit multiple authors. And yet, composers tend to want to be masters of their own universe. Of course there are some advantages to that approach. The post-Beethoven composer as author-god is a heroic model that has a lot of appeal for an ambitious artist. But why not take the risk of surrendering, for just a moment, that administrative control, or that omni-powerful agency? I believe there is still plenty of room for creativity even with those things given up.

Last year, I worked on a film score with my colleague Mike West. Going into the project, it felt a bit odd (we had never done something like this before) making decisions and even writing actual music as collaborative artists, neither of us acting truly independant of the other. This process actually worked out, and the result was quite good and worthwhile. Granted, the process was rather exhausting - but I never felt afterward that I had made "compromises" of the bad sort. Rather, the results were unique, hybrid and the kind you don't get just tinkering around by yourself.