I recently read William James’ The Varieties of Religious Experiences. Here are two passages that struck me with such thunder that I’m still thinking about them (both are from Lecture XVI). I merely present them today but will comment on them after I have better collected my thoughts. To me, these passages are at once baffling and obvious. Single words, and conjunctions of words, effects of light on land and sea, odors and musical sounds, all bring [the sense of deeper significance] when the mind is tuned aright. Most of us can remember the strangely moving power of passages in certain poems read when we were young, irrational doorways as they were through which the mystery of fact, the wildness and the pang of life, stole into our hearts and thrilled them. The words have now perhaps become mere polished surfaces for us; but lyric poetry and music are alive and significant only in proportion as they fetch these vague vistas of a life continuous with our own, beckoning and inviting, yet ever eluding our pursuit. We are alive or dead to the eternal inner message of the arts according as we have kept or lost this musical susceptibility. In mystical literature such self-contradictory phrases as ‘dazzling obscurity,’ ‘whispering silence,’ ‘teeming desert,’ are continually met with. They prove that not conceptual speech, but music rather, is the element through which we are best spoken to by mystical truth. Many mystical scriptures are indeed little more than music compositions…Music gives us ontological messages which non-musical criticism is unable to contradict, though it may laugh at our foolishness in minding them. There is a verge of the mind which these things haunt; and whispers therefrom mingle with the operation of our understanding, even as the waters of the infinite ocean send their waves to break among the pebbles that lie upon our shores.
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As an undergraduate, I had a professor who told me that works of music become like old friends as you study them and play them again and again. As I prepare for a recital of all German music, I’m once again working on Brahms’ Sonata no. 1 in F minor for piano and clarinet. The last time I worked on this, I was in Japan in the middle of a difficult period of my life. Consequently, it has kept some of those associations, but I find the last movement all the more moving. The dominant mood of the sonata is nostalgia, and I have a completely different perspective now in my late 30s from my late 20s. The final movement, though, remains one of joy, a clearing of the air with ringing church bells (at least in my head). It was a point of joy and clarity then and remains a moment of deep satisfaction now.
As a performer, you invest a part of yourself into the music you prepare. More than old friends, I think musical works become some part of yourself. As we learn them, we invest our own bits of meaning onto them, and in studying the music, we come to know the music and ourselves better. After a great deal of time away, I'm taking a new approach. I've started working more earnestly on a concert management app, as well as developing specific concert programs I want to do in various cities. I'm centering everything around a new organization, Resonant Horizon, which I hope will centralize many threads that have sprawled out too far. I hope these concerts will delight and inspire both audiences and musicians and act as reminders for why we (I) got into music in the first place.
“You’re feeling the right feelings.” I’ve been saying this often recently in response to people who are working on concert experiences (including myself!) and feel exasperated, frustrated, despondent with either circumstances, other people, or whatever roadblock they’ve encountered. The thing is that concerts are tiring, frustrating work–oftentimes with no payoff for months or even years. There isn’t any “best” way to handle everything–it comes down to the specific individual and circumstance. But all of these feelings–coupled with the motivation of hope and other positive feelings–are exactly what you should be feeling. Things are frustrating, tiring, exasperating at times. Maybe you don’t know what to do–but at least, you can know that what you’re feeling is perfectly valid, and oftentimes expected. You’re not alone.
So feel those feelings, while you work on a plan to move towards your project goals. Music, and really all of the arts, are an ecosystem where each part helps the other. Dance expresses physically what music does acoustically or painting does visually. Theater often combines different arts into one complete work. It can be easy to forget that at the root of the ecosystem are individual people, artists trying to express something. It’s important to take a moment and remember that these other people can provide oxygen. Every seasoned artist is really a band nerd or an art geek. Deep down we’re still those kids who are fascinated with the magic found in the arts. Over the years, we cover up that kid with layers of academic, military, or nonprofit bureaucracy. So many of us walk around searching for inspiration or perhaps we even stop looking because we’re so tired. We forget we’re part of the ecosystem and can help each other clean off some of the gunk accumulated over the years. Remember: we ourselves are the ecosystem. Let yourself be inspired by your colleagues.
At the Conductors' Retreat at Medomak, Ken Kiesler often talks about oxygen masks on planes. You know, "place your mask on first before helping others put theirs on". If you pass out from a lack of oxygen, you're not helping anyone. He's telling him/ her to get themselves ready first and then worry about the orchestra.
Increasingly, I think this is true in all of life. If you're tired, take a nap. If you're burned out, go do something else for a while. If we want to do our best work, we need to take care of ourselves first. This might mean taking time to listen to that recording or going for a walk or working on that relationship we never have time for. What is that you need to do in order to put your mask on first? A musician's market value is virtually nothing right now. As we carefully and tentatively reopen the economy and consider the possibility of live performances, we all the more need ideas. If you have one, share it and nurture it. A musician's life learning to perform for and draw in an audience is priceless. We need to recreate the market so that we can all put our skills to good use.
I've discovered that I have a terrible time finding the motivation to practice or do anything unless I have a deadline and a real project to work on. The lesson: you can create your own deadlines and 'real' projects. Send an email and get other people involved. It immediately leaves your head and becomes a breathing project!
I haven't written anything in a while. Undoubtedly like so many of you, the pandemic intensified and flash-boiled an already difficult field. It has been a time to review and rethink what I want out of life--and how to get it. I've taken up software engineering as a 'day job' in order to provide the capital necessary to continue working on projects.
I remain committed to: 1) creating opportunities for truly innovative performances in classical music that enchants and inspires wonder 2) nourishing musical progress through commissioning projects by young composers from underrepresented backgrounds 3) providing a platform for musicians, composers, and audiences to interact through meaningful performances. To achieve this, I will do the following over the next year: 1) reboot Project: Sound into a worthy voice for underrepresented audiences and musicians that is financially viable and independent 2) start an incubator for music performance organizations that provides musicians with tools to create sustainable organizations, demystifying the business side--much like tech incubators 3) continue to push myself musically while I work in a non-musical field. To hold myself accountable, I will publish updates here. As always, if you want to collaborate, shoot me an email or get in touch through the site. I feel like I’ve been in a daze, a ‘wait and see what happens’ posture for a while now. The problem with this is that the world is still turning and changing all the faster now during the pandemic. As arts leaders, we need to move as quickly as we can. Guidelines are changing/ relaxing daily with spikes in the coronavirus expected. Most of our organizations have been decimated by the inability to perform for our audience.
What’s something you can do for your audience even if you can’t host them in your normal venue? How can you keep them engaged even now? |