musing, rambling

Pam's comment on a recent post has got me to thinking (as I often, often do) about being a musician and the persistence it takes and the implications of choosing another line of professional work. Like, does taking accounting classes at the local technical college (which I may very well do this coming fall) make me a quitter? Or just practical?

Time will tell on that one, I suppose.

I've been trying to think of the most satisfying musical experiences I've had post-Bachelor's degree. One example was the premiere I did of a pair of John Harbison pieces at SongFest, his Vocalisms I and II, subtitled "Grand Aria" for soprano and piano. Harbison's pieces are not at all easy, and these were no exception with wacky rhythms, driving tempos, and serious jazz influences. Plus, the scores weren't (maybe aren't yet) published and everything was in manuscript and pretty hard to read. Sarah, the singer, who was really wonderful to work with, and I rehearsed and coached those pieces until we were both blue in the face. We never worked with Harbison directly (though I met him a few months later at Token Creek), but we coached with musicians who know him well. After one coaching, when I been told over and over and over to "be more percussive" I remember walking out of the auditorium and bursting into tears because I was so fucking sick and tired of being told what to do. That was a big moment - first of all because I almost never EVER cry (once a year, tops, call me a robot if you want) and second of all because I realized I had learned this thing by myself and knew it better than any other pianist out there (except Harbison himself, obviously) and it was just time for me to perform it without any more input from anyone. I felt like an independent musician, finally.

The performance, frankly, was great. We were totally on fire and everything slipped right into place except maybe one or two spots that were practically invisible. I remember feeling satisfied with myself, thinking "Yeah, I can do this!" and having hope for my musical future. I also remember feeling relieved that it had gone well because I was afraid no one would believe I could really pull off a good performance with a toddler in tow and a baby on the way. A few of the other people at SongFest were married, but I was almost the ONLY one with kids.

Then I finished my doctorate and had Anya and since then most everything stopped. I say "most" because every few months, something comes along I can't refuse. Like a gig with the choir I did over the summer (I love the director so much I can't turn him down, plus the pay was good, plus he was desperate), and the recital I did in November with my college teacher. Those were both very satisfying and affirming musical experiences as well. But let's face it: I can't make a living playing only the gigs I like. And I won't be happy taking more lucrative jobs (like concerto competitions for high schoolers so talented I want to crawl under a rock when I hear them play) just to make money. In other words, what I like most about my musical life is NOT what pays well, and with two little children at home, my time is too precious to waste.

I don't plan to halt my musical life. In fact, I'm hoping that choosing another line of work to make a living will help me continue to play what I want when I want instead of always looking for paid accompanying work that does not fulfill me. I'd rather prepare income taxes and work out payroll spreadsheets for a few hours a week and spend my precious practice time learning great repertoire that I want to play without worrying about whether it will cover the grocery bill or not. Life is short, no?