Finding Happiness
The Spirit of Harmony concert series taught me more than I imagined. I learned and performed over 9 hours of music across multiple genres and centuries, created new programs for up to 3 concerts per week for 10 weeks, adapted to virtual performance settings, and learned how to virtually connect with audiences across the east coast. What I did not expect to learn was the importance of happiness in musical performance.
During my first performances, I felt like I was tiptoeing into hospital rooms where I didn’t belong. I held my breath as I met critically ill patients and I’d often collapse after performances completely exhausted and emotionally drained. What if it wasn’t good enough? Would they judge the repertoire? Did I connect properly? Did the microphone work? (Cue dramatic montage as I lay on the floor contemplating my life decisions drinking my 6th cup of coffee.) I had never performed Chopin and Bach amidst the sterile sounds of a busy hospital floor and I certainly wasn’t used to performing Disney, Jazz, Rock and Roll, and Pop on top of it all. (Cue existential performance crisis.) It all seemed so foreign and I constantly asked myself if I was doing enough to deliver the perfect pieces along with messages of hope, comfort, beauty, and inclusivity during a tumultuous time I was struggling to navigate.
As I mentioned in my last blog post, once I started really listening and interacting with my audience I noticed how many patients and staff requested happy music across genres. I slowly relaxed as I realized I had the opportunity to share in moments of happiness with my audience during a period when that concept seemed nonexistent. To be honest, I’ve always had a dark streak running through my emotions and I enjoy exploring complex emotional pieces that help me express the layers of emotion within me. Shifting my performance expression to sharing and connecting with the emotions of my audience, (instead of just expressing my own) as part of a collective human experience has been one of the most freeing experiences in my performance life.
Once I stopped obsessing over every note and focused on time shared with my audience with intentional joy, I began to truly enjoy performing. I took more risks, I challenged myself to explore more music, learn it, and perform it in under 12 hours simply because it was too beautiful not to immediately share. I relaxed at the keyboard and finally learned how to genuinely smile while performing.
I know performance experiences are forever shifting and I’m sure I will have many moments of anxiety and doubt, but I have also learned how, in the midst of turmoil, my audience taught me about happiness. They taught me to freely share all the small moments of beauty and happiness I constantly seek out around me. Even during the darkest days, there is always something beautiful waiting to be noticed. I am pausing the concert series for the rest of the summer during my move to Boston but I can’t wait to start performing again for hospitals in September.
Roses from Saint Peter’s University Hospital for my last hospital concert of the month.