On Becoming an Entrepreneur

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I had a lot of questions about becoming an entrepreneur, and for many years I was firmly against it. Last week I decided to start a company anyway, and now I'm sharing with you the Q&A that went on inside my head before I made the decision. I must warn you, this is a very boring blog post that contains information instead of funny bits. Sorry. Also the information is only valid in Finland. Sorry again.

Will I lose all unemployment benefits?  (This was perhaps The Question for me.)

The magic word is PART-TIME. If you work through your company only part-time and you can prove it (=if the hours are so few you could realistically accept a full-time job), then you will be considered a PART-TIME ENTREPRENEUR and your unemployment benefits will be just fine. This is not related to money, I'm told - it's literally the hours you work they're interested in. If you earn most of your income as an employee, you can still stay in your old unemployment fund (työttömyyskassa). If, on the other hand, you'll start earning most of your income as an entrepreneur, they have unemployment funds of their own that you can join.

What do I even need it for?? 

I founded the company mainly to be able to work with singers professionally. The other options are not great for me, but they might be great for you - so here they are:

• Use cash and everyone's happy. No hassle. It is, on the other hand, quite illegal. 
• Use a company to do the billing for you. This is not very cost-effective, because they take a certain percentage of your income as a fee for making your life easier. Your life will not be that much easier.
• Use your daddy's company. This might be a fantastic idea, except that I don't have this option available so I had to fly solo.

What should I charge? What about all those taxes and other weird stuff? 

Charge what you want to earn, PLUS your expenses. If you keep the company very small, the expenses will be equally small, so you can also charge less. If you earn less than 7800€ per year through the company, the only thing you need to pay is taxes. Then up to 10.000€ per year you need to pay for a pension as well, and that's 18% of your income. Earning over 10.000€ in this business you'll have to start paying ALV, which is a Finnish something something tax, and that's 24% for teaching, less for some other things. So, earning more, your expenses might suddenly skyrocket, and you'll have to be aware of more stuff. 

My plan: keep it really small and simple for now to have time to learn all the stuff - plus it's less of a bother that way.

Should I make my prices public? 

I did. For me there's too much secrecy going on in our field, so I wanted to be transparent. It's so frustrating to always have to negotiate your salaries in the dark, not knowing if you're grossly underpriced. I still don't know if what I charge is in any way related to what other pianists make, but at least they'll have one point of reference now on my website. I wish I'd had that when I started working.

Will I have to get a corporate account? They're expensive! 

For a company that consists of a single person (toiminimi in Finland) you can just open a normal account that's free. Technically you wouldn't need even that - you could just use your own account - but it's easier for yourself to keep them separate. For tax purposes you'll need to separate the company's expenses from your own anyway, so best to have them in different places altogether. Then you can "pay yourself salary" from the separate account by simply transferring money to your own. No complex calculations needed.

How will I ever learn how to send invoices? 

By reading instructions and by downloading a free example from online. There are hundreds available. What you'll need is all the basic info that you know an invoice has, plus you'll need to number them. As far as reference numbers go, you do not want to get into those. They're a bitch, and they only work on corporate accounts. You can use a message instead - all you need to do is to somehow connect a sum coming to your account to an invoice you've sent.

Bookkeeping is so hard. Should I hire an accountant? 

If it feels impossible, you should. I decided to learn it. The simplest thing of all, if you want minimum hassle, is to just bill your clients and not use the company for buying things. Then your taxes and bookkeeping is really very Marie Kondo. Nothing there. If, however, you buy things for the company, you just need an explanation of each sum that goes out of the account. A receipt and an explanation. Then at the end of the year, you'll send all this stuff to a tax person who wants them. Not higher mathematics, this.
If you want to minimize the amount of taxes you pay, you can of course spend thousands of hours optimizing this and saving in that, but I couldn't care less. The taxes I pay would make you laugh (or cry), so I don't really care if I would save three euros per year in clever tax schemes. Let the state take all the euros they will.

What if I have to hire someone else?
Don't. I don't know anything about it, and I don't want to start reading about it either having read through all this other shit. Less people, less stress.

What does it cost to register a single-person company? 

If you do it online, it's 60€.

Will it be fun at all? 

Not sure yet, but I'll keep you posted. See you on the other side!

On Posting Recordings On Facebook

I posted a recording on facebook.

I haven't done this in a long time because of the questions. Every time I think about making a recording public in facebook or on my website, these questions appear in my head like an army of very loud mosquitoes. You've probably never heard them since I'm the Only Musician On Earth With Issues, everyone else looking pretty sane and normal and calm from where I'm standing. If one day, however, you hear this strange buzzing sound approaching you from a distance, you should know what's coming. Here they are.

"Is it good enough?"

It could've been better, you know. The bassline could've been more distinct, better shaped. There was the pedal at the end that I'm not sure about - too much? Too obviously romantic?

"What would Ilmo say?"

Ilmo Ranta is a Finnish pianist and one of the best lied coaches on this planet. He has very high standards that are always just out of my reach. Surely he would cringe at the first bar and make me play it again in a far more imaginative way that made the music shine.

"What if people will think that I'm really proud of this recording and not aware of the shit things?"

I have the urge to post recordings with explanatory essays that detail everything I'm not happy with, so that people would know that I know: "To whom it may concern: I don't claim to be perfect or great by posting this recording. I know the beginning is really quite normal (as in 'not extraordinary in any way') and that the transition on page three is a bit clumsy. I'm also aware of all the unclear left hand stuff that appears throughout the piece. With these shortcomings, your humble servant still has the audacity to offer her recording for the world to hear. Sincerest apologies, Jenna"

"Is it any good?"

This question has a tendency of repeating itself a lot. Usually there are no answers.

"What does this say about me?"

What sort of message am I sending with this particular piece? Have I posted too many pieces like this before - will people think I can't do anything else?

"Can I say I love this piece?"

Admitting that a particular piece is close to my heart - that makes it even worse. If I care about a piece very deeply, I'm supposed to have a Super Interpretation of it. My recording should just Pour From The Heart like little drops of magic gold wisdom and love. Listening to it should be a transcendental experience because of all these emotions that drip from the speakers like nectar. Oh well.

"There are already millions of recordings out there - why would mine be needed?"

Of course it's mainly about advertising myself. I hate that, but it's how it is. The songs are musical calling cards I put out there so people would get curious.

"But why not?"

If I get to this question, I'll post the damn thing. Because why not, indeed. However it could be improved, it is me playing the piano to the best of my ability on that particular day, in that particular space. That is how the song shaped itself in front of me that day, and I felt happy and content travelling through its landscape.

P.S. Us musicians, we face fear all the time. Fear of failure, fear of rejection. We find ways to cope with it and we learn to control it, but let's not fool ourselves by pretending it's not a part of our lives. One way I'm facing my own fears is writing them out for all of you to read - and with that writing process, letting them go. Another great way of letting go is simply focusing on the music. It is why we are what we are, after all.

How to Be A Succesful Musician (in 10 easy steps)

Succeeding as a musician requires two things: first, you need to be taken seriously, and then people need to remember who you are. I've received plenty of advice on how to succeed, and all of it comes down to these two essentials. Most of this advice I've got completely free of charge from colleagues who want to help a friend out and show the true path to greatness - and now I'll share these nuggets of wisdom with you, spreading the love. All you need to do is follow these 10 simple steps, and you'll succeed in no time.

You're welcome.

1. Wear make-up. Nobody will take you seriously without it. (You'll be surprised to know that a soprano told me this. I assumed it only applies to women, but hey, what do I know - a little mascara never hurt anyone.)

2. If you live in Finland, be in the Sibelius Academy. In the bachelor program, doing your masters or doctoral studies, teaching, as a janitor, just get in. Because if you're not in the Sibelius Academy, your career is as good as over - people will forget you in a flash. (Sorry, majority of Finnish musicians. Apparently everyone forgot about you.)

3. Win competitions. That's the true way towards greatness. If you just can't win, then at least (4.) have CDs to your name. Nobody buys them or listens to them, but you've got to have them to look like a pro.

5. It's easier to win competitions if you look artistic when you're playing, because then everyone will know you're a serious musician. (This nugget comes from a competition jury member.) Looking artistic means waving your arms around a lot, making faces, closing your eyes for emphasis, and keeping it visually interesting in general. The only people allowed to just sit there and play are 60+ male pianists whose CVs are longer than them. Everyone else must keep moving.

6. Build and nurture a strong online presence: facebook, instagram, twitter, youtube, soundcloud, blog, vlog... - update them regularly and curate your content so that it resonates with your target audience. Then make millions from ads and sponsor deals.

7. Have a teaching method, it's the new black. (This is forward-thinking news from Continental Europe - Finland is always years behind, but this is our chance to catch up.) I've launched the Color Star Shiny Pumpkin method that makes every child play like Lang Lang in just six weeks. It's part video game, part coloring book, and I'm selling the material on- and offline for 1.600$ per student.

8. Get your concerts right. A succesful musician only does two types of concerts: conceptual and market-friendly.

Conceptual concerts get shitloads of funding because they're innovative and new. They take classical music out of dusty concert halls and into the real world: to shopping malls, swimming pools, forests, and fire trucks. It's important to add new layers to the musical experience: at least you have to have an app for the audience, preferably an interactive video game, or then just make the audience build their own kites and fly them in an abandoned factory while you play Bach fugues on a guitar made from potatoes.

If you can't get funding, you have to make the audience buy tickets. The audience doesn't like difficult music (I've heard this from a few different singer sources), so stick to the golden hits of opera, throw in some relaxing piano classics and finish off with a musical number or two. You will get rich and then die of brain explosion during the 19.576th performance of Meine Lippen Sie Küssen So Heiss. May you rest in peace.

9. Have a company. (This I've heard from everyone who has one.) Nobody wants to employ a musician these days - they don't want to take care of all that legal hassle. Have a company and just send them the bill, that's how it's done these days. If you don't, they'll never hire you and you'll starve to death in the gutter.

10. Have attractive (and slightly suggestive) PR photos because sex sells and that's what everyone does these days.

...and that's it. Needless to say I've ignored most of this feedback. I want to believe that the work we do speaks for itself, and we will get by if we respect our colleagues, audiences, and the music itself. What more is there than performing and teaching from our hearts sincerely and honestly? Sharing music with others in a way that is true to ourselves, coming from our unique point of view? No matter how you define success, take a moment to appreciate and admire the career you have right now. Whatever it looks like, obscure or brilliant, love it. It's your very own. 

On Better People

Better People^TM can play the piano really well. They know all the quick things and the slow things and the flashy things. But they're not just playing machines - they've soldiered through intense drama with a broken wrist/family/relationship, so now their musical interpretation has depths you can't even begin to grasp. To support these yogic guru -depth emotions, Better People^TM read a lot of serious books and watch serious series. This helps them be better than the people who read and watch the normal shit. The serious stuff has helped them grow as persons, and by now they've reached towering heights.

Better People^TM have their own chamber music festival, a concert series or at least an opera house. They know how to write grant applications in ways that make cultural foundations send truckloads of money to their direction - the projects Better People^TM do are so new, so now, so inspiring that the foundations compete for their support. Press is charmed to write lovely things, and the festival/concert/thing will continue next year with more money and prestige.

Better People^TM also practice regularly and take care of their physical and mental health. They have a balanced diet, but in parties they can be relaxed about food because they're not uptight, just annoyingly Better. Probably they shit rainbows. And because they're balanced, they don't burn out. They have a lot of work, but not too much, and they don't stress and worry and panic because music is really about being in harmony with your soul. Somehow they're in harmony with their wallets as well, and they make a decent living out of music while you starve.

Look around you. They're everywhere, these Better People^TM, taking over the world while you struggle in the dark and envy their things. They're your colleagues, your friends, and oops, it looks like you're one of them. Because there's someone somewhere thinking, oh how can she get all those nice things - her life looks so easy and polished and lovely. I wish I had that.

'I wish I had that' is good because it makes you aspire to things, it makes you work and hope and reach for something new. But it turns toxic when envy gets involved. In the music world - this tiny bubble we all try to work in - it's so easy to see others doing great, and so, so easy to see the jobs other people got and you didn't. And it's easy to forget the jobs you already have. The gigs you got, the projects you did. How proud you could be of this corner you've cleaned for yourself, this career that you've nurtured and fretted over. 'I wish I had that' could be replaced with 'I'm glad I've got this' and the Better People^TM would start looking more like normal ones.

Of course I might be wrong - there might really be people out there who shit rainbows.

Well. I'd pay to see that.

On Things That Never Will Be Music

Emails

There are so many emails. Imagine you're trying to arrange concerts, for example. First you have to email the possible venues to ask if they want you. Most don't. Staring at the negative answers you curse the day people stopped appreciating music and wallow in self-pity - and then send more emails. The venues that do want you require a lot more emailing back and forth. Agreeing on the details takes time, typing, and scanning.

Pro tip: If you don't have a printer/scanner at home, find friends who do, and then ruthlessly abuse their patience and machinery.

Texts, Messenger, Whatsapp...

Booking rehearsals. Booking meetings in which to discuss future projects. Booking rehearsals for aforementioned future projects. Endless group chats in which there's always 1) A person who doesn't use the app in question and has to be informed via smoke signals 2) Another who never answers anything, except to tell they're unavailable at the exact time everyone else has laboriously managed to agree on 3) A member who'll post all sorts of unrelated spam that you have to read every time the phone beeps because the one time you didn't it was real news. 

You send pictures of outfits to match them to others, you send cvs and biographies, promotional pictures, scores, tax cards, id numbers, bank details, drafts for program notes and grant applications and hundreds of thousands of things that are not and never will be music. You just sit in front of your computer and/or phone and click, click away while your life passes you by and all your creativity slowly withers and dies in the corner. Then the phone rings:

Calls

It's a gig! ...not. It is a salesman offering you a magazine subscription, an insurance, or cheaper electricity. Every week someone vomits their sales pitch on your hopes and dreams. You have to answer, because every call from an unknown number is like that lottery ticket you bought in order to win gazillion euros. And who knows? Next time it really could be work. 

Pro tip: Always, always when the electricity guy calls gasp in bewilderment: "Electricity? For me? What on earth would I need that for?"

Facebook

Leaving Facebook is a thing, because Facebook is evil. I'm not disagreeing, but I'm not leaving either. I follow a couple of groups that actively post things about work - people looking for substitutes,  links to new job openings and grants to apply for, events looking for music and students looking for teachers. 97% of the posts are not relevant to me, but it's the 3% that I'm interested in. I've actually got work like that, by reacting to a post, so I know it can happen. You just have to spend some time scrolling through stuff including cute animals and your friends' doings. (Okay, things could be worse.)

Websites

"What if they google me? They won't, but what if they will?" You have a website because of this. There might be other reasons, but this is the real one. When someone somewhere wants to know who you are, they'll find information you yourself have edited and polished, instead of mildly embarrassing ancient facebook history or random concert posts and articles. It takes time to maintain, however - unless you want people to see only the concerts from before 2014, you've got to keep regularly updating the site. You will not want to do this, but you'll force yourself. You will develop whole new ranges of methods of procrastination during the process.

Instagram

You should have Instagram because "everyone's there". As a pianist working with singers the important thing is not to let the singers forget you exist, so you should try to post something every once in a while. You're not really into Instagram, you're just using it as a tool. Only when someone confronts you about the relevance of seagulls or food to your work, you notice the machine is now controlling you - you've already been tagged, you've been caught in the net of arbitrary gratification, and not knowing how it happened you find yourself compulsively checking for likes and scrolling through air in your sleep - walking around seeing not objects and events but a continuous stream of hashtags and filters.

Pro tip: Watch out. It's scary business.

Teaching

A whole new world of more messages. A concert time change? No big deal. Just 22 texts. Then the replies: "What concert? Where? We have a soccer game and jazz ballet and could it be 47,6 minutes later and earlier and at the same time? Maybe on another planet? Could it have subtitles in Sanskrit?" The answers to these questions: 138 more texts. Sick on a Monday? 10 texts. A teachers' meeting? 17 texts. Students playing together with other students? What a lovely idea. 58 texts. Students playing together with other students in a concert? 18.229 texts and possible carpal tunnel syndrome.

Conclusion

Being a freelance person and teacher means you are your own pr manager and secretary, and that is a lot of work. Know it. Accept it. Embrace it. 

Pro tip: Rant about it to colleagues. Always helps.

On Fear

​Dear reader, I'm scared. Worried, stressed, and anxious about The Career Of A Freelance Musician. I live with a man who has a Nice Normal Job, and while he sleeps peacefully, I lie awake thinking about how nobody will ever hire me again.

You know the feeling when you're wide awake, it's way too much o'clock, and you have super constructive thoughts on failing at life? Night is obviously the worst time to think, so I'd strongly recommend you to sleep instead if you can. If you can't, here's two things to do instead: play solitare (there's an app for that, no need for actual playing cards. Very handy if you want to stay in bed while someone next to you is sleeping and would little appreciate lights being switched on) - or read a book. No time to think when doing either. I've tried the Constructive Method of writing my worries down, but that creates an uncomfortable paper trail - read in daylight, all those very serious concerns and fears look more like ramblings of a delusional half-wit.

When there's a quieter period in my calendar, it easily feels like the quiet will last forever. That's when I'm most worried, anyway. Busy is good, even if it sometimes gets close to burnout. (No more of that, now. That's a whole other blog post.) So, ladies and gentlemen. In order for you to feel better about your  saner selves, I'll share some of my delusional ramblings with you. Here are some thoughts that, after midnight, have entered my drama queen of a head:

1. Oh no, I don't have almost anything this ________(insert the current time of year)! I have done my last concerts in life and I'll never get to perform again.

2. They have finally caught me out: I suck at teaching, and I'll soon be fired if all my students won't quit first.

3. People practice and work insane hours and never get tired, and they still go to the gym, only eat beans and have calm, enlightened minds. I'm the only musician who feels worn out after teaching, and who doesn't always (usually) have the energy to excercise and socialize, and who eats popcorn for breakfast.

4. X years ago in that project I  ________________(insert a thing you should've done different), and now everyone that was there hates me and thinks I'm an incompetent nitwit.

5. Next year I can't be a pianist any more because nobody wants to play with me, and I'll probably end up working as a cleaner or cashier except they won't hire me because I'm too lazy and I'll die alone and unemployed. 

6. Everyone else has so many fancy gigs - they all work from morning till night and then party like crazy. I must be the only person in the entire music industry who has days off and watches Netflix.

Don't get me wrong - a lot of the time I'm optimistic about the future, grateful for the projects I've already done, and happy with the stuff I'm currently working on. I know very well that some have more and fancier stuff, and others less. I also know that You Should Not Compare Your Life With Other People's. But seriously, who doesn't? Another wisdom I've heard is Just Work Hard And Things Will Happen. No Need To Worry, Regret, Anything.

Bullshit, I tell you. I exist, therefore I worry. 

Conclusion: A part of being a freelance musician (for me) is being awake on some nights playing solitare on my phone, whilst posting only happy stuff to Instagram. And somehow life just happens to continue, and there just happens to be new mornings, opportunities, and ideas. And new exciting games in Google Play for the sleepless nights to come.

On Audiences

1) Friends and family

They are your cheerleaders sans pompoms. Filled with pride, armed with flowers they sit and listen to you doing whatever it is you’re doing. Afterwards they’ll tell you you were wonderful, you looked terrific, well done you.

They’re the all-important support network you need to stay sane, so appreciate all the compliments, do a twirl in your concert gear, and smile to the camera. You earned it by being onstage, no matter what you did there. Just going there was brave enough for now.

2) Colleagues

After the performance they come to thank you, and seeing them approach you immeadiately start pouring out all that went wrong with the performance. Yes, you’re very aware of your shortcomings, yes, you know it wasn’t that great. Only if you happened to play superbly well, you might find the courage to say “oh it was quite okay I guess”.

Usually your colleagues want to congratulate you instead of mocking you, and on a purely theoretical level you know this (having congratulated other colleagues yourself). However, the adrenaline of the performance turns you into a mad conspiracy theorist, so in your ears “it was great” sounds like “you’re an ape”. It’s all in your head. Remember that.

3) A jury

You’re playing, and suddenly from the corner of your eye you see one of them write something down. Immediately your mind starts racing: was it the phrasing, balance, rubato, my face, my shoes, what? WHY DO THEY HATE ME? It takes all your willpower not to run away crying, but you soldier on.

The jury member was probably writing down a note to buy milk after the exam, or he was drawing a completely innocent flower, or a chicken. He’s being paid to hear you out and say intelligent things after, he’s done this a million times already, he’s tired and wants coffee. Also he’s a kind person who doesn’t particularly enjoy crushing other peoples hopes and dreams – he’d rather give some generic, inoffensive feedback. But you don’t know this, so hearing the sound of his pen your soul shatters to a million pieces and your blood pressure reaches record heights.

4) Children

They are the best and the worst audience. You never have to guess whether they liked or hated you – you’ll notice it from the things they shout and/or throw at you mid-performance. If they like the show, you feel like you've discovered the true meaning of music and you dance all the way home.

Let’s not think about the other option.

5) The person paying you

The thank you -handshake after the performance is not just a handshake. It’s a code to be encrypted: Was the handshake firm enough? What did that raise of the eyebrows mean? Was the smile approving, did the “let’s be in touch” sound a tad sarcastic?

Will I get to do another concert here ever again?

6) Non-musicians that aren’t related to you

They just sit there and enjoy. Plus they’re not obliged to talk to you after, which is great, too.

7) Critics

“Mr. Critic, please say nice things about me, please. Put those nice things on the front page and you can have my soul and my children.”

8) A full house

Oh the joy, oh the nerves! You’re shaking, but you feel like a million dollars when the hall bursts into applause in the end. Everyone loves a full house, but it takes a real connoisseur to love…

9) …an empty house

Nobody showed up, but you play anyway. Hell, why not grab a drink and make a party of it. The walls will like your stuff.