How a Pandemic Ignited a More Genuine Love for My Role as a Musician
Originally posted on June 1, 2021 on the Imperfect Authentic Blog (imperfectauthentic.com)
After a full year of the COVID-19 pandemic, no one is exempt from experiencing loss. For musicians, we lost the connection and sharing of music that came with live concerts and rehearsals. In the spring of 2020, I was completing my master's program when all classes went online. We had no rehearsals, and all concerts were cancelled -- including my graduate recital.
Of course, I was devastated at first. I was resentful and filled with grief for weeks. But, as time went on and I began to accept the circumstances as they were, I noticed a change in my relationship with practicing. Without the pressure of performance deadlines, I found myself playing my violin more so for my enjoyment than to "get it right." This shifted the focus of my practice to discovery and -- dare I say it? -- fun! I began exploring other genres and allowing myself to experiment stylistically. The disciplined structure of rehearsals and academia had always pushed me to learn new repertoire and accomplish specific goals. But, having more play time gave me a greater sense of freedom with my musicality and instrument.
Although official university performances had been cancelled that spring, I was still able to share my music in a meaningful way. My close friends threw me a celebratory brunch on the day of my would-be recital, and they asked me to give them a "Tiny Desk" concert in the living room of our apartment. This intimate recital was a meaningful performing experience I will always remember. I had the freedom to play repertoire that wasn't originally on my recital program, including covers of contemporary music I had been playing with. I got to talk to my friends about the story behind the pieces I chose for the program and why they mattered to me. Afterwards, one of my friends told me she had never experienced classical music that way. "It's like you were telling us your story," she said. That day refreshed my perspective as a performer. Music tells a story -- a human story -- and someone in your audience has been longing to hear it.
The lack of live performances in 2020 has only accentuated our deep desire for the connection music offers us. I recently had the privilege of attending my friend and colleague's graduate recital... in person! As I sat in my university's recital hall for the first time in a year, I couldn't help but feel pangs of grief as I reflected on my own recital that was never "officially" performed. But, then I smiled at memories of last year's brunch and living room concert. My graduate recital may not have been the experience I had planned, but it was nevertheless an influential moment for the vision of my career. And now the opportunity to perform for an audience again is not far from reach, and that gives me motivation and hope.
I know my personal experience as a musician in 2020 is not unique. We have all been longing to share our music and interact with an audience. And now that live concerts are becoming normalized once again, I'm filled with eager anticipation. Every artist has been reflecting on the same year of loss and hope. Their music will tell their story. We will be honored to hear it.
