Lately I’ve been viewing my music and musical abilities more as a lifelong journey rather than something to master by a certain date.  I freely recognize my weaknesses, yet I feel confident that I know how to continue working through them.  I don’t feel paralyzed by these challenges, but instead I think of them as works-in-progress.  In fact, the more I think about it and talk about it with friends, I’m struck by how very honorable and beautiful it is to be an artisan and artist all in one.  To do something that literally takes years to master, or even to just bring to a high level – this is years of scales, long tones, new instruments, life experience, listening to other music, days of productivity and laziness, risks, self-control, brutal honesty – all of this is so very worthy of praise.

I have recently been listening over and over to an mp3 of a live performance of a well-respected group here in Holland; its link was given as a gift to all those who subscribe to their digital newsletter.  The more I listen to it, the more I am inspired by this performance.  The music – a trio sonata by Haydn  – is generally playful, and they perform it with such joy.  But as with all music I know by Haydn, there are so many other emotions at play, and I feel that this ensemble really captures that in their live performance.  I laugh, I get nervous, I feel like a warrior, I feel out-of-control, I feel sympathetic.  I’m struck by how open these performers seem to be, how freely they display these passions, how they dare to risk even with the occasional out-of-tune note as a result.  I’m touched and inspired by the fact that they perform and share their years of life experience with me through these collective sounds.

Being a musician isn’t just something you learn in a 4-year college degree and then easily turn into a job in that field.  It’s so much more than that.  Sadly, it is also often so much less financially stable, but I cannot help still feeling hope that others occasionally recognize the immense amount of blood, sweat, and tears (and also joy and playfulness!) that go into preparing one piece of music.  As I’ve been (re-)discovering with my mp3 gift, I as an audience member, and therefore also my audience members, appreciate the musician’s efforts on stage.  Hopefully one day the money will be there, if not in abundance at least in a sufficient amount to let me continue what I love to do.

Special thanks here to my friend H for inspiring many of these thoughts, and for being a constant sounding-board for my latest musings.

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