Tour Reflections
-Home after a month on the road-
I’ve been back in Montréal for a few days now, and have had a bit of time to reflect on the experiences of the past month.
On the personal side, it was a very meaningful trip as I had opportunity to reconnect with family and many old friends in addition to forging new friendships and connections during my travels. The chance to stay with so many different hosts allowed for many fascinating conversations - not to mention a spectrum of political opinions! - which I thoroughly enjoyed.
From a professional perspective I've learned much, as this was the first extended concert tour I have undertaken. The experience of playing every night was invaluable, leading to discoveries -by trial and error- on maintaining stamina, concentration, energy, and recuperation.
As I have gotten to know the program in greater depth over many performances, I've seen my interpretations deepen and evolve - often changing night to night! The experience of enjoying music while playing - so prevalent in the practice room, but sadly less-so on stage - became more common as the tour progressed as I discovered new overlooked subtleties. Though there is ever more work to be done, and one can never completely let down the guard, I've begun to view the music more like a trusted ally rather than a capricious adversary.
As mentioned in the previous post, the Medtner was by far the most popular work on the program! I'm still amazed and invigorated by this revelation!
It was interesting throughout the tour to hear audiences' perspectives on the music: their favorite works as well as what they felt were mine, and even what they thought I played the most convincingly. One unexpected twist, quite ironically was that practice time was often extremely curtailed. It took some adjusting at first, but I eventually was able to adapt, although somewhat unwillingly!
Connection and exchange with audiences was another major highlight throughout the tour. I became profoundly aware of an artist’s need for a sympathetic audience - and by extension their need for a responsive performer. It truly is an exchange, with both parties reliant on each other for an element they cannot provide for themselves. This is an oft-discussed phenomenon, but I became acutely aware of it over successive performances. While its easy to say that the music speaks for itself - and largely, it does - there is still an element of vulnerability necessary on the performer's part to open the music - and by extension themselves - up to the audience. It's a gradual revealing of soul, spirit and mind not only of performer, but composer too. The response of the audience is equally important -essential, really- but it is always in response to what the performer initiates. Herein lies the source of tension for the performer - the hope of playing well, of realizing the composer's intentions and communicating one's own artistic personality to sympathetic ears, pitted against pervasive awareness of countless inadequacies, needling reminders of human frailty and the constant worry of being unfit to meet the lofty challenges of the music at hand. Performances then, are a very fraught kind of magic - a nervous tight-rope walk with potential to go very right or very wrong, just hopefully not very average.In the context of this tour, I was fortunate to consistently have extremely responsive, generous audiences. It is a remarkable experience to begin playing for absolute strangers, sense their cordial, but guarded reserve, then begin to gradually earn their trust till by the conclusion of the concert an undoubtable sense of camaraderie is apparent, of having made a dangerous but ultimately rewarding journey together. I experienced this phenomenon repeatedly: each time in an entirely unique way, specific to the place and people, yet each time the same in spirit. Invariably my awareness of the audience's concentration and support was felt during poignant moments of suspension or repose, such as the beginning of the Sarabande from the 4th Partita or the pause between 2nd and 3rd movements of the Romantica. The intimate format of many of the concerts certainly helped create a strong connection with audiences, and I hope my on-stage commentary in lieu of programs helped facilitate more informed listening.
Nature -naturally- played a major role on this tour, as all told, I covered 4 provinces and over 7000 kms in my aptly named Hyandai Sonata. Unexpectedly, weather was unseasonably warm in Northern Manitoba (28 in Flin Flon!) and apocalyptically wintry in Southern Alberta (60 + cms of snow in Lethbridge!). Being on the road so long afforded chances to see incredible natural beauty including Pisew Falls and the Boreal forest, the dramatic Rockies en route to Fernie, and an abundance of autumn colours across the Prairies. One of the most memorable moments of the entire tour occurred on a farm outside Watrous, SK: during the final shuddering bars of the Sonata-Romantica (replete with its fist-tolled B-flat bells) a massive lightning storm lit up the sky in the window behind me! It made for quite an epic conclusion to the work (or so I'm told, as I was a bit preoccupied)!
I'm grateful to many people for their hospitality, friendship and support during the past month:
Thanks to Sherrie in Watrous; Logan and Jeremy in Moose Jaw; Clark and Katherine in Regina; Kathy Schaffer and Pilot Butte Arts and Culture; Adam from Trigo restaurant, and Christine and Gord, in Lafleche; Shirley and Cecilia in Estevan, John Lam at Steinway Calgary; Roger and Bethany in Okotoks; Sylvia of 88 Keys in Fernie; Dan and Graham in Lethbridge; Jane and Esther and Brian in Killarney; Bill and Sheila and Art and Marg in Pilot Mound; Joanne and Ryan in Winnipeg; and finally Nicola Davies for her tireless work and vision for Living Room Live. I’m grateful as well to my family for their continual love and support. It's been an enriching experience getting to share the music I love with so many. Hope to do it again in future!