Day 235: “do I have to move around?”

I was helping a student find her inner violinist today. I told her it’s time to come into her own and stop being a “kid musician” and just be a “musician.” She nodded thoughtfully, then said: “do I have to move around? Because that always messes me up.”

I told her no, at least not for now. Movement is okay, but it certainly shouldn’t be getting in the way. (And it’s a logical question, right? She sees musicians moving all the time, and when she tried to move like they did it was just a gigantic distraction.) I assured her that expression may (later) result in some physical movement or a funny facial expression, but that those are just symptoms of the magic.

The magic is in the magic. And the stillness is beautiful, too.

Day 80: Washing dishes.

Today I was listening to a great interview of contemporary comedic actors (many of whom are also great dramatic actors, but that was the context of this particular interview). The hour-long interview involved questions to the individual actors but also to the group, creating ample and hilarious banter between them. I happened upon the interview poking around YouTube at the channel for “The Hollywood Reporter.” In it, Don Cheadle said something that struck a chord with me. Here’s the exact quote:

“It’s such a nebulous job that we do… that’s why I like to wash dishes and sweep. Because I go… ‘those dishes were dirty, now they’re clean. I know that I did that.’ You know you walk off the set some days and you’re like, ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’”

The whole interview is brilliant. This little bit was a reminder of the intangible aspects of all art. I’ve written on this blog about some of the more tangible metrics in our work, like keeping up with a metronome or charting progress through a given book, but most of it isn’t like that. Most of it is what Cheadle is talking about: an amorphous and subjective journey, that even at its culmination is not “done” or “over.” At the very height of our ability and the pinnacle of our artistry, somebody will dislike, or even hate, what we do. And it might hurt. And that’s alright.

Today my practice is more thoughtful, oddly enough thanks to Don Cheadle. Special, meaningful music making is where it’s at; I needed the reminder.

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Day 68: How to make it big

Here’s how to make it big in 7 crucial steps:

1. Just kidding. Don’t make it big. Don’t even try to make it big. Because big is stupid, and it’s watered down, and it’s not why we started doing this. Big is completely overrated.

At this point, I’m aiming for as small as possible. As special as possible. I’m currently hoping to make a little magic when nobody is listening.

Day 22: Play well with others.

One of my very closest friends is a pianist in her secret life. Her other friends and co-workers probably have no idea that she’s an immensely talented and expressive musician. Ages ago we got to make music together every day, a collaboration we took for granted at the time. Today we played together for the first time in many years, Schumann and things. It was pretty remarkable, how she came back to notes she hadn’t played in over a decade and breathed and watched and listened as if she did this all the time.

By “play well with others,” I certainly don’t mean “play correctly” with others. That’s silly and not at all what we did today. What I mean is, collaborate. Share energy, breathe, move. Don’t be afraid to play wrong notes.

Playing with such a dear friend reminds me that chamber music is a unique bond between people; there is something that happens between the notes that can’t be captured any other way. Today I feel very lucky to be a musician.