Bridging Connections
October in the Catskills
“Maria, these walls were not meant to shut out problems. You have to face them. You have to live the life you were born to live.” Mother Abbess, Sound of Music
I had planned to continue the Spirit of Harmony series in September but my plans changed after two back to back emergency surgeries in Boston. While I’ve weathered a fair amount of bumps in the road, these unexpected surgeries threw a major wrench into my new wheels as I started graduate school in a new city. While I’m normally able to focus on the silver lining in dark clouds, I really struggled to emotionally move past this bump. As I normally do in times of crisis, I retreated to the mountains in early October to enjoy the fall colors and clear my mind. I was jokingly singing the sound of music track as the car ascended the mountain when I began thinking about Mother Abbess’s quote before she sings, Climb Every Mountain.
Music has often been my abbey, giving me solace and comfort when needed. But I also realized I delve into music to shut out my problems and then later express them in my music without any verbal explanation. During October I also began thinking about publicly sharing some of these emotions with my audience instead of just expressing them within my music. Sharing the darker sides of life always feels like a balancing act and I would rather remain vulnerable only in my music. It’s not easy for me to speak when life takes a downhill turn or when there is no conclusion in sight. Sharing a vulnerability quite frankly terrifies me because of how people may react. Especially in today’s social media climate, I often feel a pressure to remain strictly positive and ‘moving forward’ no matter what has happened. I often feel like we live in shattered realities, disconnected from each other by space, emotions, or perceptions.
This is why I believe music should be so much more than a one way street of communication. Music can create a mutual connection as both performer and audience experience the music together; but it can also become bridge to a new interaction where we can connect over our triumphs, our downfalls, and our unfinished stories. I think that’s why I have especially enjoyed engaging with audiences in hospitals during this year. It’s a time to acknowledge the painful situation at hand while focusing on at least one beautiful part of life together. With the help of the computer screen, (an element I originally disliked) I now have the ability to welcome these conversations and create far more connections than I could experience during a life performance. Part of this experience is connecting over shared experiences which is precisely why I hope sharing some of myself outside of the music can encourage other people to do the same. If we can find a space to truly support each other and connect through the good, the bad, and the ugly of life, perhaps music can create a far greater impact.
I used to think of classical music as a universal language that allowed me to non-verbally communicate all of my unspoken thoughts and emotions. It was easy to hide myself within my repertoire choices and carefully prepare intricate concert programs in the hope of expressing those emotions. The problem was I was often only expressing myself during the performance instead of focusing on communicating with the audience. In non-musical terms, it was like recording myself talking about my thoughts and emotions at my local cafe instead of intentionally directing the conversation to my neighbor sitting next to me. It is a topic musicians often discuss since the shift in intention can make the difference between a good concert and a great concert.
During my first series of Spirit of Harmony I began opening up my repertoire choices to audience requests. It felt odd to relinquish my carefully planned programs and musical selections. Sometimes I didn’t understand or particularly like the audience requests; Pachelbel’s Canon and My Heart Will Go On have never been my choice of emotional outlet. What became important was listening to the stories of why audience members connected with different pieces of music. Hearing each story and encountering each connection gave a depth of emotion to music that far exceeded my own. Music became different bridges to connect me with other people’s emotions, stories, and experiences creating a shared musical experience far greater than anything I could personally create.
That is why I am so excited to be returning for virtual performances in December with Saint Peter’s University Hospital in New Jersey. This time I'll also be opening up additional concerts for viewers outside the hospital so we can connect through music wherever we all are. I’m looking forward to hearing your stories and sharing your favorite music with you very soon.