Recently, I found myself confronted with the current influx of online discussions surrounding nepotism in the creative industries: the infamous nepo baby discourse. This, in combination with the annual tradition of taking in the rather sobering statistics on women’s inclusion in the music industry – particularly in areas like production and songwriting – got me thinking. If you have to know someone to be someone, and if diversity is decidedly not a top priority for many employers in the field, then what did the industry professionals I know do to get their foot in the door? And is it mere coincidence that all of them spent a significant amount of their teenage years utterly devoted to pop music, and chronically online? What kind of networks do those without a household name and a trust fund to fall back on create?
In hopes of finding some answers to my questions, I decide to meet up with Chiara Noemi Müller (@chiaranoemii), a German photographer, video editor, occasional director and journalist working in music, at her favourite quaint Hamburg café. With her effortlessly tousled seventies haircut, long herringbone coat, black DMs, and a camera worn over her shoulder in lieu of a bag, she certainly looks like the epitome of a cool, indie photographer. Seated outside to enjoy the crisp December air with two steaming cups of coffee in front of us, we get to talking.
First things first, I’m curious to know: how did her relationship to music begin? After telling me about an unsurprising Hannah Montana phase (I mean, we’ve all been there), Chiara remembers that “when I was ten years old, I discovered One Direction and” – we both laugh in mutual understanding – “like many others, probably, looked up funny videos of them on YouTube. And then I kind of slipped into their circle of fans, with everything that came with that: writing fan fiction, starting a fan blog, joining Twitter, having a dedicated Instagram fan page, making edits … the whole deal.” Asked about the formative qualities of such an environment, she takes a moment to think, and then says: “It was definitely always a little bit like a place of refuge.”
“I felt like music was a core part of my identity and influenced my attitude towards life, opinions on different topics or the way I dressed.”
In a later conversation with Jadzia Dudek, founder of London based promotions agency Friendship Music (@friendshipmusicpromotions) and recent BIMM Music Business and Event Management graduate, I receive a similar response to the question: “I felt like music was a core part of my identity and influenced my attitude towards life, opinions on different topics or the way I dressed.” When I ask her about the jump from simply being a fan to making music her career, her answer strikes me as very sincere. “I always felt particularly connected to music, but since I sadly never considered myself a creative person, I didn’t even dare to think I could try to look into a career in the music industry”, she admits. Turns out, moving to London (after growing up in Poland) was the final push that she needed. “I always felt like some of the artists I absolutely adored didn’t get enough attention or were just looking for more opportunities to perform live, so I wanted to provide these spaces for them to reach more audiences” – and in a city of millions with a thriving live music scene, there was ample opportunity to do so.
As someone who has harboured both some of the very same desires and insecurities, I must admit it is a joy to hear from people who have stuck with their passions and turned them into something so incredible.
“I was never the type to try to prove I could do something better than a man can, but I usually felt like I could.”
But unfortunately, as some of us may have feared, bias is alive and well in the music industry, still. Jadzia reflects on some rather unpleasant encounters: “Since my name is foreign and rather uncommon, men sometimes assumed my gender when we exchanged emails and would be surprised I’m a woman when we finally met in real life. These types of situations always made me feel angry, but there’s not much you can do if you don’t want to be remembered as overly dramatic.” Candidly, she adds, “As a rather shy person, who battles with anxiety, I was never the type to try to prove I could do something better than a man can, but I usually felt like I could.”
Jess Scarlett (@jesscollectsrecords / @jessscarlettportfolio) a digital creator, record collector and devoted concert attendee, has similar observations to report. When I ask them about the number of opportunities to enter the industry they feel are available to them, they argue: “I think unless you know people in the industry or you have a lot of money, it’s incredibly difficult.” They point out the fact that an overwhelming number of opportunities tend to require unpaid labour, “which obviously the majority of people can’t afford today. So, yeah … it’s really hard.”
Chiara’s experiences in the German indie music scene have sadly been no exception: “It really is a boys club, a lot of the time. Like, I’ll see that indie boy bands will also have a male tour manager, and take a male photographer with them, and the sound technician, of course, is also a man. They will keep each other in their respective circles […]. My clients are overwhelmingly women who put an emphasis on working with other women because they’re aware of the problem.”
“My clients are overwhelmingly women who put an emphasis on working with other women because they’re aware of the problem.”
However, despite the frequent challenges, there is still joy to be found. When I ask her to tell me about an experience that makes her glad to have chosen this particular career path, Chiara excitedly tells me about a weekend she spent in an Amsterdam Airbnb shooting the cover for a client’s EP. The client, upcoming German indie electro pop artist Jessovski, had offered no specific instructions, simply telling her: “I trust your creative vision and your ideas – just do what you feel like doing”. Proudly, Chiara adds “It was a relationship built totally on mutual trust, because of the fact that we had been collaborating for a long time already”. Since then, a song from the release has been added to an official Spotify playlist with over one hundred thousand likes and as a result “her EP has gone through the roof, with my photo as its cover”.
The beauty of establishing a genuine connection with an artist, if only for a brief moment, seems to be a recurring theme in the stories I am told. When asked the same question, Jess reminisces about an interaction with Ellie Rowsell, lead singer of English rock band Wolf Alice, during a concert of theirs they attended several years ago: “They were playing Blush, and I was crying. And Ellie was like on stage: ‘If you cry, then I’ll cry. Stop doing that.’”. As the concert was the last of the tour, the band stepped down to the barrier after and the singer approached Jess to say “I love you so much”. Joking lightly, Jess describes the exchange as having been nothing short of “life-defining” and “personality-shaping” to them.
And Jadzia, too, treasures human connection when I ask her about the most rewarding aspect of putting on her own gigs: “Being able to watch other people enjoy the music I put on is another, maybe slightly more selfish, reason I love organising shows, it makes me feel accomplished.”
So, now that we have taken a look at some of the triumphs and trials of working in music, does anyone have any words of advice for young women and non-binary people hoping to do the same? “Hm… I’d say it’s quite common in this industry to struggle with imposter syndrome […], especially women in the music industry tend to have this problem. But […] this is the thing: men achieve so much because they believe in themselves a lot. Because they’re so utterly convinced of themselves that they’ll go up to clients and say ‘Yes of course, I’m the right person for this job!’ […]. So, simply believing in one’s own abilities a bit more, I think”, is what Chiara has to offer. Got it!
And personally, I would like to finish by saying this: when I first met all three of the wonderful people featured in the piece you will have just read, the only thread tying together our teenage selves was our love for our favourite band’s music. Now, dozens of gigs later, we are firmly planted in our early twenties, closer friends than I then could have imagined, and they have become the music industry specialists without whom I would not have been able to write this article. Perhaps, this too, can illustrate the unique knowledge to be gained and the invaluable relationships to be built from being a teenage girl with an internet connection and a vested interest in pop music. And the importance of sticking with it.