Unpacking Musical Memories to Ring in 2013

I rang in 2013 in a new house surrounded by boxes. I consider this to be one of the ultimate ways to ring in the new year: a fresh start in a new location and in an idealist way, it actually had the potential to be pretty empowering. In reality, the first week of 2013 put me in a funk because instead of thinking about projects (and starting) that I would like to accomplish this year, I had to acknowledge that the week was all about unpacking and settling in.

There's still unpacking left to do, but this is the week to begin piecing together what will make 2013  a successful year. While I unpack, I'm reminded of myself and nothing fired up the spark more than unpacking and organizing my music library.

As I sorted through all the music, I thought about why I owned the piece, if I've learned it (or asking why I haven't learned it yet) and finally thinking about the times I've performed each piece.

I put away my copy of the Reinecke Sonata and I smile at the memory of performing it with Erica Sipes in 2012. For the first time in a long time (and perhaps ever), I collaborated with a pianist who truly and happily supports the musicians she plays with.

On stage, I felt that I could do anything and Erica would respond to me. I felt safe and cocooned and the Reinecke is the perfect memory of 2012 and future performances with Erica.

I was first exposed to the Telemann Fantasias in high school when I learned the second one. I returned to them in college and I have regularly returned to them ever since. I love them for their complexity and the way Telemann transformed the flute into a harmonic instrument with harmonic and melodic material written on a single line.

Perhaps the most amusing memory is performing No. 2 during a church service back home in SW Virginia, and people not quite knowing what to make of it since it wasn't an overtly sacred choice. I think it was the closest I've ever come to hearing crickets chirp after I finished playing.

Finally, the copy of Robert Beaser's Mountain Songs for flute and guitar. I programed several of the movements on my senior recital to honor the memory of my grandfathers who both died in 2006. I appreciate the guitarist that came to my aid to learn the difficult part in a short amount of time and allowed me to keep the piece on my program.

Mountain Songs blends Appalachian folk songs and sets them within the classical tradition, blending my two sound worlds together that meshes my identity with that of my grandfathers'.

Just looking at the music brings forth these memories, and I can keep making more memories with the music in my library. Every move is attached to a specific memory and unpacking my music library will stick with me for this move.

Is fear holding you back?

As musicians, overcoming our fears is one of our biggest challenges. Allowing ourselves to become vulnerable vehicles for the music we wish to share is a momentous task, immediately peeling away the layers to expose our truest selves to an audience full of people we may have never met.

After the performance, however, no matter how fearful you were prior to or during it, it's a time of intense exhilaration. You can't wait for the next opportunity to perform. How can we cultivate that fearless feeling in the performance itself and live life as it's meant to be lived?

A few weeks ago, I began reading Madeline Bruser's The Art of Practicing for a second time. This time, I've been able to get through the book much more quickly and it's been a surprise to find that I've absorbed so much of the information in the book and am applying it to my music making. It's such an excellent resource to have, and obviously worth re-reading every now and then.

Near the end of the book, in Chapter 14, Bruser speaks about transforming fear into fearlessness. In the section, she discusses how fear may keep us from discovering a new way of identifying ourselves. 

I took this away - each time I experience self doubt, I am fearful. I'm experiencing fear in the times that I don't feel capable of performing to my fullest potential. Instead of waiting for a "big break" to come, start transforming performances with fearlessness. Don't limit your performance to what fear dictates you can handle.

I know what it feels like to be fearless. My study of Body Mapping and the Alexander Technique has enabled me to slowly integrate a complete mind-body connection into my awareness as I practice and perform. In choosing to live my life with awareness, I am choosing to let go of the fears that can restrain me in performance.

Transforming fear into fearlessness is the first step to performing with freedom and true artistry. As your performances come to life, your confidence will blossom and your identity may shape into something more powerful than you ever thought possible. This will bring more opportunities your way.

We spend so much time seeking validation from external sources that we forget what is possible on our own. When you allow the validation to come from within, the chance of getting that "big break" will become more likely. As with anything in life, end gaining does nothing but cause despair when we get off track. Simply accepting what is and cultivating resiliency will benefit you in many more ways than endless start and stops.

You can transform fear into fearlessness by having the courage to share what is in your heart, enjoying the process and letting go of what you think you should be doing. Instead, live with passion, live with heart and most of all, live with the confidence that you are an artist in the present moment.

In the words of Bruser, "We can keep growing only if we face our fear and dare to step forward through it."