Violinist Anna Williams, part of Neave Trio: “I’m inspired by institutions that are saying, ‘We can’t use our concert hall, but we can lead.’ “
Violinist Anna Williams of the Neave Trio makes it sound like one audience member would be enough.
She speaks from experience.
“When everything hit,” Williams says of the pandemic quarantine, “we were able to play outside, for a healthcare worker. It was freezing. But just playing for this woman, on the frontline, and seeing her reaction to it—it might seem trite, but it made us think about doing whatever we can to make that connection with the community.”
Neave Trio—Williams, Mikhail Veselov (cello), and Eri Nakamura (piano)—formed in 2010. They are faculty ensemble-in-residence at Longy School of Music—a lifeline in these days without performances. They are also Chandos artists, with two recordings on that prestigious British label, and another one scheduled for next spring. They tour widely, and have performed at festivals throughout the world.
Williams and Veselov are engaged—easing the social distancing rules for at least part of the trio. They live in Lawrence, and Nakamura lives in Cambridge. Rehearsing has been a challenge, but Williams says “we have a lot of godfathers and godmothers.”
They’ve earned the support—one listener at a time. The group even gets its name from a single listener. Neave (sounds like “leave”) means “bright” and “radiant” in Gaelic—“but we didn’t know that when we chose it.
“We had this formative experience,” Williams says. “We played for a friend, a total lover of music who suffered an injury. He couldn’t leave his bed. He was paralyzed, and we would go and play for him. In return he told us about his life before the accident. And his daughter’s name was Neave.”
That beginning, a decade ago, reverberates eerily with the current situation, when musicians will be reaching out to smaller and smaller audiences, rebuilding support for live performances. Neave has started that, with two socially distant concerts at Natick’s Walnut Hill School campus at the end of July. The performances were a collaboration with the contemporary dance troupe Body Sonnet.
“You realize how much you have taken things for granted,” she says. “Connecting with an audience and with other artists—such a precious experience. If there is a silver lining, it’s in a renewed appreciation of how special it is.
“When you finally have an audience, at a safe distance,” Williams says—“we were all deeply present with one another. When things are normal we won’t take that for granted.
“A place like Walnut Hill can provide intimacy in a safe way,” she says. “I think they fit about 40 people. They were really fabulous, thinking outside the box. More institutions and venues are going to be following suit.
“I’m inspired by institutions that are saying, ‘We can’t use our concert hall, but we can lead.’ Art needs to be created. We are all thirsting for that creativity. That connection is one of our guiding principles. If anything it will force us all to be a little more creative, pared down, to remember what we do.”
The two al fresco concerts interrupted a busier-than-you’d-expect calendar for the trio.
“We are actually excited about the things that are going on,” she says. “That can seem bizarre, I know. We were supposed to go to England to record for Chandos in September. They were great about postponing, and we still have that to look forward to in the spring. This upcoming week we are taping at home for the BBC. We recorded for a Longy fundraiser. We are performing at the Newport Festival in October.
“And we have our teaching,” she says. “My favorite projects are based on the students creating something they will perform, something they can carry into their professional lives.”
In this new reality, with most music venues shuttered at least till the end of the year, performances require entrepreneurship from everyone involved.
“Necessity is the mother of invention, I one hundred percent get that,” she says. “You can create your own opportunities. We’ve been fortunate. We are busy, and we are doubly aware of how lucky we are to be busy. In a strange way it has opened up a lot more possibilities.
“I don’t mean to sound like I live in a different reality. This is nobody’s first choice. It’s a reminder of how interconnected we are.
“There is an element of being in all this together,” she says. “The arts are the pinnacle for that sense of connection.”