BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
Earlier this year, the musicians of Affinity Quartet experienced a snap seven-day lockdown. So they decided to create a “work bubble” that would allow them to continue their creative practice, living together under the same roof until the government lifted its restrictions.
Three months later, these Victorian string players were still living together. During extended lockdowns, they continued to fill their days with rehearsals. They worked towards shared goals, maintained their independent commitments, and even enjoyed a little downtime in between.
The quartet now gears up for its first live performance since this period of isolation began. Musician Mee Na Lojewski talks with CutCommon about their “crazy experiment” — and why she’d do it all over again.
Mee Na, I was pretty surprised to learn that Affinity Quartet worked on this music together. Under the same roof. For three months. How did the stars align in such a way that you all ended up living together during a COVID lockdown?!
Just prior to the COVID lockdown, the four of us had been working together to step in for the Goldner String Quartet at the Australian Festival of Chamber Music in Townsville. Festival opportunities like these are a real honour, and a thrill when you can be poised and ready to take them up. Unfortunately, COVID thwarted us when Victoria’s snap lockdown in July meant the cancellation of the festival, just a few days before we were meant to fly out.
This was one of many work casualties of the past two years, as sweeping regulations have really restricted those who work in the arts. Productions and performances can’t just ‘snap back’ after a lockdown when creative studios and rehearsal venues have been closed for months. Chamber music especially is a medium that needs to be rehearsed with your colleagues in the same room, and it can take months of preparation.
So after the festival cancellation, we created a quartet ‘work bubble’ before the seven-day lockdown to help us ride out the next period of uncertainty, and to allow us to be able to continue rehearsing together. Little did we know seven days would turn into three months of continuous lockdown. We ended up spending a quarter of a year living together under the same roof. It really felt like we were a string quartet in isolation from the rest of the world.
Wow! So how did you come together to make it work? Did you lay down some ground rules, discuss your routines and values, set any goals?
There’s a book called The Art of Gathering, which I haven’t finished reading yet, but it’s about how to get the most out of gathering. In society, we have so many ways to meet with people — for work, socialising, commemorating. The author Priya Parker says that the most powerful gatherings often have one thing in common: the people gathering have a specific purpose. The more specific that reason can be, the better the outcome.
I felt this was particularly relevant to our situation as a quartet living together. We didn’t know how long we were going to be in lockdown together, but once we realised it would be for longer than a week, we had to give some thought to the purpose of our ‘gathering’.
We started setting goals like repertoire we were going to learn, and created a home recording studio by hanging microphones from the roof. We even produced our own lockdown mini-recital to share with family and friends.
When restrictions started lifting in regional Victoria towards the end of October, we were able to organise two local concerts. All of this contributed to a sense of purpose, and helped us work together effectively.
What was it like knowing you had nowhere to hide from the other members of your quartet? After all, you each knew when, how, and how much you were working on your parts!
Haha! Coming together under one roof was an initial adjustment, and I definitely felt exhausted in the beginning. We all soon realised the need to switch off. Having a shared musical focus made the experience different from simply being housemates — an important distinction.
The day-to-day rigour of rehearsing together definitely keeps you honest with yourself and with each other. You’re necessarily striving for the best collective result — that means supporting each other, giving and receiving feedback, also knowing that you yourself can always work on improvements in a constantly evolving process. We were also recording ourselves, which was great in that it brought perspective and objectivity to what we were working on.
When your focus is the creative interpretation of a musical piece — and you start with four initially differing individual ideas — your end goal is to achieve an unanimous, shared interpretation. That comes about from a kind of initial disharmony growing into harmony.
Like any teamwork dynamic, it’s fascinating work when you’re striving to make each part fit well in the whole.
How did you “switch off” as you say, and prevent overworking when you were with your colleagues 24/7?
I think when you’re genuinely inspired and challenged by the work in progress, it’s not something you want to put a time limit on. However, you can feel like the work is never complete, so a daily schedule helped us manage our expectations and set goals.
As musicians, it’s often the case that, in the time away from the rehearsal room, you have realisations and find solutions to some of the passages you’ve been tackling in rehearsals. That’s why it is vital to have space between rehearsals for private practice and thinking.
There’s a productivity theory that when you’re learning a new language, a ‘rest day’ means that the following day often starts at a lower productivity. But over time, the learning is much greater when rest days are incorporated. As patterns emerged in our own weekly schedule, the four of us had nicknames for different days of the week — for example, ‘hump day’, ‘big brain Tuesday’.
It helped that the four of us maintained our separate commitments during the lockdown. Nick and I both teach students at schools and privately, and most of this was able to continue online. Josephine attended classes online at the Australian National Academy of Music, and Ruby developed a collaboration with visual artist Rosalind Price for Gasworks online. The fact that we each had commitments outside of our daily quartet work was an important part of maintaining the balance and normality of our lives.
What did you do to ensure you enjoyed downtime outside your work, too?
In terms of downtime, our greyhound girl Juno was our life coach! She’d announce with a restless grunt — or by gently sidling up to one of us, usually Ruby — when it was time for us to stop rehearsing. She’s quite sassy, and loves people and human furniture. We took many a photo of her lying around the house on couches, armchairs, sun lounges, and even beds.
Ruby and I also became daily sea-swimmers. Playing is physically demanding, so swimming has always been a must for me. During the weeks, from winter to spring, we definitely noticed the ocean getting warmer and our teeth post-swim chattering less!
Nick and Jo initially preferred quiet mornings, patiently putting up with our post-swim elation. By the end of our stay, they began venturing out too.
What was the most enlightening part of such an unusual experience?
It’s hard to reflect on it with a measure of perspective just yet, especially as we haven’t stopped rehearsing since coming back to Melbourne. One possible realisation I’ve had is that, especially in the music industry, it’s a combination of luck and timing to be ready to take a risk that allows unexpected and rewarding things to happen. As a freelancer, I’m open to things happening with very little warning. The pandemic has been destabilising, but if it’s taught me anything, it’s that being in a string quartet really suits my kind of nomadic thinking.
Putting a string quartet together under one roof for three months might sound like a crazy experiment. But for me, it was a chance to do what I love. I guess the four of us were lucky to find that it was a rewarding experience.
At the end of the day, would you do it again?
I wonder if string quartet players are used to having a thin line, or overlap, between what is private and what is shared. I feel like the bubble scenario definitely tested our mettle. But yes, I’d do it all again!
So we’ll hear the outcome of your amazing work together in the Scrub Hill Double Bill. How are you feeling now that it’s finally going to come together, outside the home and for the rest of the world to see and hear?
It’s going to be an amazing feeling. It’s spring, we’ve opened up, and I think we are all feeling hopeful about safely returning to shared spaces for connection, music and culture.
Affinity is so excited to perform again for live audiences. Scrub Hill is a stunning 19th-Century bluestone church that has been lovingly restored over the past few years by the owners, who have made the whole setting of Scrub Hill picture-perfect. They’ve even invited Piccolo Vintage Food Van to sell afternoon tea on the lawn. Affinity had the idea of a Double Bill at Scrub Hill to accommodate the reduced indoor capacity, and to show off all the repertoire we’ve been working on these past months. The concerts are nearly fully booked, so don’t miss your chance if you’d like to come. We’d love to see you there!
See Affinity Quartet perform two programs live this 27 November at the Scrub Hill Double Bill.
Images supplied.
