The Artists Alone series began from necessity. For more than a decade this weekly column has focused on performances— either previewing or reviewing them. That all shifted drastically in March.
I began interviewing musicians without any expectations. What would eventually become more than three dozen profiles started haltingly, a kind of self-assigned therapy.
I talked to musicians I respected. Many I had met previously, but an equal number were on that “interesting work, I should investigate sometime” list. This was the year for that.
Musicians were also getting around to projects they had neglected—or personal lives that had been neglected. More than a few tackled a lengthy work, learning Goldberg Variations or a sonata cycle, for pleasure rather than performance. But many just stopped, and between digesting the torrent of bad news spent time experiencing the weather, or simply processing their emotions.
“I’ve always thought there was a portion of myself that didn’t come out, unless I was interacting,” violinist/violist Sarah Darling said. “Now I’m seeing what emerges when I’m alone. We’re being patient in ways we would not tolerate before.”
They spoke for themselves, and simultaneously spoke for their peers as well. “There is no deadline for the first time since I was twelve,” pianist Michael Lewin said, a frequent observation. “I was always learning for something—a concert, a recording. My identity is wrapped up as a concert pianist.”
ZOOM, AND THE EMERGENCE OF VIRTUAL PERFORMANCES
The only reliable opportunity for musicians during the quarantine came through online performances.
“At least for the near future musicians have a captive audience,” bassoonist and engineer Thomas Stephenson said in March. Nearly every musician and presenter began exploring virtual options. A wave of live-streams, Zoom edits and archival dust-offs began.
It was heartening to see the glut of online performances—evidence of a certain gritty determination. But the quality proved mixed. Isolated musicians setting up iPhones competed with media giants like medici.tv and a wealth of availability from presenters and orchestras, who put years of archived performances on YouTube for free. As much as artists tried to create immediacy, video is video. You can leave and come back later.
Barry Shiffman, who as dean of Toronto’s Glenn Gould Conservatory has a right to the opinion, noted that when Gould quit the concert stage to record exclusively, he “had it wrong. Music does not work without an audience.”
But no musician could be faulted for trying all possibilities, and for trying to keep in touch with the audience.
“These video montages are either profound or they are absolutely terrible,” Darling said. “But reaching out keeps us sane.”
CAN CLASSICAL MUSIC CHANGE?
As the summer unfolded, every subject commented on the social upheaval roiling the country. Classical music has an uneven history when it comes to social change. It’s an art-form built on the past, and inherently seeks to preserve that past. Sadly, there is no reason to think that the current pleas for diversity will make any substantial difference in the classical music industry.
Some changes to repertory should occur. Chamber groups, more nimble and less governed by institutional interests, will lead the way. But significant changes bringing diversity to larger organizations, their boards and their programming—not now. Mere survival will trample the best intentions.
Composer Jonathan Bailey Holland was one of several artists who spoke eloquently on the issue.
“I don’t have a problem appreciating older work,” he said, “but we have to factor in where we are now, and how racism is crucial to how the industry functions.
“I don’t feel that classical music is racist. Institutions were designed to perpetuate things. Racism has to be addressed for every facet of society, not just classical music. It’s easy to demand a certain percentage of this, or of that.
“To me, the answer is looking at everybody as an individual. Too often it becomes us vs. them.”
Others, like conductor Gil Rose, were less charitable in their assessments. “We have to stop making the public so stupid. What Covid might have done is give us a concentrated look at the future—eighteen months worth of bad news, rather than eighteen years. We have to diversify.
“Look at the over-reliance on ‘Nutcrackers,’ and with ‘Messiah.’ Relying on these pieces forces you to dumb down your programming.”
IF PERFORMANCES DON’T RETURN . . .
Will musical performances return? Inevitably. But a brutal reckoning has been made, with individuals bearing the brunt of it. Most organizations should return, but musicians epitomize the gig economy, and now too many of them are delivery drivers, supermarket stockers or simply unemployed. Many won’t be able to return to music.
“This feels unprecedented,” the composer Matthew Aucoin said, “but the human race has seen unprecedented things. The performing arts will bounce back. I can’t imagine the shared, cathartic experience will go away forever.”
The worst may still await us. Any notion of carefree gatherings to enjoy music seems far-fetched. Pianist Heng-Jin Park said, “There have been moments when I’ve turned to my husband and said, ‘It’s gone, it’s going to die. It was already a dying art. Why would anyone risk their health when they can sit in the comfort of their own home?’ ” That seems like an honest appraisal, at least of a part of the audience.
“Maybe we will survive, and maybe we won’t want to do things on a shoestring,” said Guerilla Opera’s Aliana de la Guardia, which seems like an honest appraisal of performers, and their unsettled future.
Uncertainty persists. The safety and health of society takes precedence, and artists yearning for the collective energy of their audiences have to wait. Artists will continue to be alone, and Artists Alone will continue to explore their circumstances, one at a time. It feels like a small, patient thing to do.
Keith Powers covers music and the arts for Gannett New England, Opera News and Leonore Overture. Follow @PowersKeith; email to keithmichaelpowers@gmail.com