BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
Since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, the entire nature of our industry has shifted — seemingly overnight — with artists forced to abandon their live events and projects.
But despite such mass cancellations, musicians are proving they have the power to take some control over what can only be described as a horrendous situation — and adapt with ingenuity, determination, and creativity.
In this interview series, we document the COVID-19 impact on the Australian arts industry while facilitating a candid discussion about what it is like to work during this difficult time. We hope this series will bring hope and solidarity to our creative community – things we need now more than ever.
Here, we chat with Sophie Rowell — concertmaster of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, and one of the stars of the new Melbourne Digital Concert Hall. She tells us how she’s adjusting from leading a large team of musicians to now placing herself in isolation, and why the MDCH is a way for her to reconnect with what she loves.
Sophie, tell me a bit about how you have personally been affected by the COVID-19 lockdowns.
The week that the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra stopped its performances due to the social distancing measures, I was supposed to direct a concert of Bach and Grieg and accordion — my first foray into this sort of program with the orchestra.
Like everyone else in the arts, it was as if a giant chasm appeared on my life’s path. I was supposed to be playing concertos in these months, chamber music concerts, organising the string chamber music at the Australian National Academy of Music, all alongside my everyday job of leading the orchestra.
Life was full and chaotic, and I dreamt of the time when I would have a couple of weeks free to have time to breathe again. Now, I would give anything to have that chaos back.
Some good things have come from this. I have come back to South Australia to be with my mother for a few weeks. Being isolated in the Adelaide Hills is not a chore at all. I don’t need to be as careful as usual with my fingers and arms, so I am the strongest and fittest I have been for years. I move barrow-loads of wood every day, wrestle with the overgrowing ivy, and check in on Monty our alpaca, who is becoming very attached to me. Mum is a fabulous cook, so I am certainly not wasting away, and we spend the evenings locked in battles of games of canasta.
On the other hand, I feel like I am grieving for the life I had. I am grieving that I am unable to share what I love with those I love, both professionally and personally. There was — and will remain for some time to come, I suspect — a lot of grief for the position my orchestra finds itself in, and the position it has put my colleagues in. It is uncertain and it is scary. I know that we have each other to lean on, though, so that brings me great comfort.
Another great comfort has been the resourcefulness of the teaching institutions for whom I work. To see the incredible lengths they have gone to in transforming their teaching models to the virtual sphere has been truly mind-blowing. I think we can rest assured in the music profession that the next generations of young musicians are being cared for very well.
So how has it felt to watch your friends and colleagues in the industry going through this experience alongside you?
It has been devastating to witness the overnight decimation of an entire industry. The lights of our industry were switched off, and, most frighteningly to me, we don’t know when they will be switched on again, or the impact that this will have on our audience base.
The musicians and artists I know are resilient and resourceful. I think you have to be, in this profession. That doesn’t mean we haven’t cried, but we are an inventive lot. Look at the amazing things that people have put their hand to online! My friends’ and colleagues’ creativity and spark hasn’t been diminished. Imagine the new avenues we will forge in this time?
I know there are larger priorities in the scheme of things in this moment but, although more and more sectors will be able to return to normal, there is no doubt the arts industry won’t be one of them for some time to come.
I hope that those other sectors will recognise that, and recognise the significant role that the arts have played in making these months of social isolation feel less long. Society is showing a kindness I haven’t experienced before. Our industry needs it to continue long past this period of darkness.
We’ve spoken to a few solo-based artists about the way they’re shaping their freelance and education careers to match COVID-19. But you’re in a bit of a unique position, coming from employment on staff as the concertmaster of an orchestra. How have you adjusted to going from leading a large team of musicians, and working in a full-time job, to going back into freelance life?
I had visions that this period of concert inactivity would be the opportunity to learn all the pieces I’d promised myself, the Sibelius Concerto being the first priority. I haven’t done that yet, I’m afraid. I haven’t turned to the violin for comfort, instead turning to outside activities to make me feel alive.
That is where this Melbourne Digital Concert Hall concert is so vital for me. The violin is calling me back, and I’m longing to play it again.
As the Head of String Chamber Music at ANAM, I could see very quickly that I was going to have to radically rethink the program for term 2: how can chamber music possibly exist if you can’t experience it together? The essence of chamber music, for me, is that unparalleled sense of conversation and collaboration. Why couldn’t we continue that, but in discussion form? I’m really excited to see where that leads.
As challenging as this time has been, it has also been a positive experience. I would class myself as technologically hopeless, but I now find myself switching between platforms with a modicum of ease, and finding ways to re-establish connections privately and professionally that I hadn’t cultivated for a while.
I miss teaching my students in the same room, but we are finding ways around it. I am delighted that their motivation has stayed high through this, and how much personal responsibility they have assumed with their own playing.
Tell me more about how you’ve teamed up with the Melbourne Digital Concert Hall, and why you wanted to join this initiative as a performer.
In the last month it has become blindingly obvious to me that I did not become a musician to play music by myself and for myself. I mean, if a tree falls in the woods but no one is there to witness it, did the tree really fall?
I desperately miss the collegiality and friendship of music making. MDCH is the chance to bring that back. I feel a great sense of warmth and affection when I see my colleagues play online. I am really proud of the fabulous artists who call Melbourne home and, through this medium, we can broadcast that far and wide. The performances are the chance to bring our voices back to life — something we have all been missing so very much.
From your perspective as a concertmaster, how do you feel about the way audiences are now engaging with these digital performances compared to a live performance?
Although we are all in isolation and very much in our own worlds physically and emotionally, this time has given me the opportunity to realise just how accessible the world can be in the virtual sphere. I can watch the Berlin Philharmonic in my pyjamas, go to the opera in my dressing gown, and take a trip through the Museum of Modern Art in my Ugg boots. Suddenly, I can invite the world into my space and, more importantly, the world has become my space.
It is no secret that ticket prices are often an inhibiting factor when it comes to concert attendance. That barrier doesn’t exist to that same extent now. Before this, who would ever have imagined that 4,500 people could be watching an MSO concert in real time performed to an empty hall? In so many ways, this crisis has pushed us to explore new areas of thinking, new ways of reaching out to the community, and new ways of communicating with each other. I hope we continue to do this even when we have full halls again!
How would you like to continue to use your leadership skills now that we’re in the era of COVID-19? Now that your familiar groups of musicians are in self-isolation, do you want to pave the way as a role model for other musicians to make the most of this experience?
I have been asked to present a number of webinars to tertiary students across the country. Not having the normal confines of concert preparation, both for myself and for the students, has given us all time to reflect and listen and learn. In these discussions, we talk about various aspects of orchestral playing, what it is like to lead a symphony orchestra, audition preparation ideas and, the very pertinent current subject, how to produce a good recording.
It has struck me that this period of isolation has broken down the walls we construct around our own lives. We need to lean on each other, and learn from each other, and to not be afraid to ask for advice.
What do you want people to think about when they are online, watching you perform with the MDCH?
I often wonder what an audience is thinking when I’m playing. I hope they are willing participants in the story I am telling. If I lose them, it is because I don’t have a strong enough narrative, something I am always conscious of both in my practice room and on the concert stage.
There will be thrills, and there will be spills on both sides of the screen — the spills at home being the errant wine glasses in the audience’s lounge rooms, alongside my technical spills on the violin. But we will be experiencing it together. MDCH lets us share our joy of music making once again.
Anything else you’d like to share?
I can’t wait to be able to give the world a hug again, and to return to the chaos of my life. We’ll be able to talk over each other again, instead of having to put our hands up to signal we have something to say. We will be able to clink our glasses and say ‘cheers’ with more gusto than ever before. We will play together as one to full concert halls. Imagine the smiles on our faces when we start our first concert together again?!
I hope, though, that the memories of now remind us forever just how vital we all are to each other.
One final thought: having stated earlier that my isolation intention was to learn the Sibelius Concerto, I think I had better make good on that promise. After all, please may I never have this much time on my hands again.
Sophie Rowell will perform at the Melbourne Digital Concert Hall as part of the Faces of our Orchestra festival. Visit the website for the full line-up and its regular concert dates.
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