Finding and owning
expertise can often turn into a category or genre exercise and this is a
challenge for many thought leaders.
What I do and what am I really great at are uncomfortable bedfellows
against the vexing question of how this differs from other people or
businesses.
Once we figure out
what our deep expertise is, we often become so wedded to it that it’s difficult
to define ourselves in any other way.
Sometimes we need the perspective of someone else to see things in us
that we cannot see in ourselves.
This is often the case in the world of classical music, and for the
high-brow, Juilliard trained artists of the grand art of opera. As a result, many have been surprised
by the recent release Dark Hope by the American darling of opera, Renee
Fleming. Encouraged to try a
project worlds apart from the opera stage, producer David Kahne has worked with
Fleming to produce a CD of songs by some of rock’s greatest songwriters.
The narrow
interpretation of Fleming’s expertise is as an opera singer, but the core of it
is a voice and intellectual sensibility that can produce the most astonishing
music. Instead of just doing
‘crossover’ where performers sing popular music in a classically trained style,
on Dark Hope Fleming “wanted to bypass the middle ground and get to the other
side of the divide completely”.
She sings in her speaking voice, two octaves lower than her soprano
voice.
The middle ground
should make us all nervous.
Staying within the lines means that we can be in danger of thinking the
same way as everyone else and offering similar solutions to our clients. If we are all reading the same books
and watching the same talks, we are coming at problems in ways that can limit
our thinking.
I am an organisational
ecologist, a field that looks at how the planning, management and design of
organisations impacts individual, team and organisational performance. From an academic perspective, this is a
relatively new and narrow field.
While I need to
immerse myself deeply in the research, my expertise has been enriched by so
many different things that other academics would probably discard as
irrelevant. Some of these include
riding Olympic level dressage, an Arts degree in Japanese and passions for
sword fighting, Buddhism, truck driving and philosophy. I get lots of ideas from magazines like
Dazed and Confused. I love
wandering around fringe festivals and exhibitions and talking to people who
don’t inhabit my world. For me,
all of these things are massively relevant to my field and I force myself to
never settle on a boundary as to what ‘fits’ my expertise and what
doesn’t.
I am asked to design
workplaces precisely because I am not an architect or formally trained as a
designer. I approach the work with
different eyes, very different questions and fresh assumptions about what is
possible and what will create the result the client wants. How else might you define your expertise
and apply it in new ways that re-invent possibility?
Don’t be afraid to think
differently and seek everyday to do things that might enrich your expertise in
surprising ways. Blur the lines,
be intellectually curious and have the courage to take risks, especially when you aren’t sure what the
outcome will be.
Fleming is a thought
leader, claiming ground where few opera singers would dare to tread. Being a thought leader demands you
inspire others with your fire, soul and sheer originality. Take a leap of faith, shun the middle
ground and go to the other side of the divide. No matter if you are a devotee of KD Lang or Jeff Buckley’s
versions, or if you’ve never heard the song, it is difficult not to be
transported by the application of Fleming’s expertise to Leonard Cohen’s
Hallelujah. A revelation indeed.
From article by Libby to be published in July edition of Thought Leaders Magazine.