Making Music in the Midst of a Pandemic
I have never had more time to practice, more audiences waiting to hear music, and more confidence in my career choice.
And yet—as a freelance artist, an unseen virus has nearly obliterated my opportunity to share musical gifts. COVID-19 swept in and destroyed all my hopes to increase my revenue this year, along with a number of concerts, performances, and weddings I was eagerly anticipating. I am not sure if it is more disconcerting or comforting that I share this plight with every other musician around the world.
What do we do when concert halls remain empty? How do we respond when stages remain dark and bouquets wilt before they can be tossed to the lead soprano?
We make music. We share art. We spread love.
Since the start of quarantine, social media has exploded with creative contributions. Artists offer free drawing instruction, musicians provide free concerts, dancers teach free ballet classes. New videos emerge daily showcasing Broadway casts singing and dancing “together” via Zoom while orchestras—with individual musicians forming the larger ensemble by way of spliced videos—perform classic works from their living rooms. The common theme amidst all this is the word “free.” Artists aren’t necessarily making money right now. They are making art and sharing it with others because they feel called to do so. Artists have done this for thousands of years. However, we cannot survive on likes alone. We can’t pay the bills with the affectionate comments of our followers. Yet we continue on, striving to produce mediums that convey truth and beauty.
I recently hosted a Zoom recital for my harp students; their sweet contributions lifted my spirits as I thought about why the future needs live music. Indie folk band The Head and the Heart suggests why the world craves music on a daily basis in their lyrics “...people need a melody to open their eyes.” We cry out for an organized sound to explain some of the feelings of frustration, isolation, and fear we are all currently experiencing during the pandemic. Whether we desire to put a noise to our confusion or find solace in soothing patterns, music helps us process the best and worst parts of this situation.
I may not be able to don a gown and present a program in a recital hall with ideal acoustics. I may not be able to hear the audience’s applause and feed off the energy of a room full of people. I may not be making much of an income at the moment. Thanks to technology, though, I am able to play a beloved instrument for those who need it most during an uncertain time. I will continue to perform repertoire, educate students, and network with other musicians, albeit via very different means. I will share my thoughts through music and hope others resonate with those sentiments.
Our vocation as artists requires us in situations of crisis to make more art. Italian singers have shared arias from their balconies over empty piazzas. Symphony musicians have played in small, socially-distanced groups in front of healthcare workers’ homes to express their gratitude. A photographer I follow on Instagram started a hashtag called #isolationcreation; she creates a new portrait each day during the shelter-at-home order in France. These contributions bring light and laughter even as they highlight darkness and sorrow. They showcase what we are all experiencing with saturated, heightened senses.
What will we artists do as the microscopic battle for lives rages on?
We will continue to make music. We will continue to share art. We will continue to spread love. We will conquer the negative effects of this pandemic through the positive strength we gain as a community—a community bolstered by art’s steady perseverance through the chaos.