BY JO ST LEON
“And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested…and learned new ways of being” — Kitty O’Meara
Saturday March 14 – my last concert for the foreseeable future.
The ban on large gatherings was just coming into force, so there was no audience, but it was a great concert nonetheless. It was streamed, so hopefully will be available in its entirety for those who would like to hear it.
It was an eerie feeling, playing the last note and being greeted by silence. Then a smattering of applause from orchestra and chorus for the soloists and conductor, but otherwise, anticlimax. Even worse, leaving the Federation Concert Hall through the foyer of the Grand Chancellor Hotel; the hustle and bustle of a busy hotel and concert audience all missing. A ghost foyer.
The new normal? I devoutly hoped not.
Back then – a mere 10 days ago – people were discussing two-week shutdowns and temporary social distancing. It seemed manageable and not too disastrous. Now, these measures are more formally imposed and set to last six months. They spell financial ruin for our country and many individuals. They represent the closing down of the world as we know it.
Before we move forward from this, though, let me introduce myself. I’m a freelance violist, writer, and concert reviewer. Two out of three of those are off-limits for now. I’m part of the small per cent most at risk from the virus: I’m over 60, I have cancer, and my drugs have apparently dramatically compromised my immune system. So, I am semi-self-isolating. It has been a time for reflection, self-examination, and learning.
In our musical community, there is a wealth of ingenuity, varied talents, and a capacity for work – even in times of hardship
Overwhelmingly, I have learnt the need for structure and discipline. A person must have reasons for getting up, getting dressed, cooking meals; otherwise, life and self disintegrate. Hence this diary: it forces me to write and submit my work. None of us musicians have any work left; many also have no income. What we have in abundance is free time. I have a friend who is painting her ‘corona wall’ (the outside of her house); I am writing this ‘corona diary’; another friend is going for structure through practice; instrumental teachers have moved their studios online. And then there is familiar face Mitch Nissen, who is presenting the TSO Daily Dose to help keep his orchestra active, albeit online. What a talent! It seems certain that musicians will not sit around feeling sorry for themselves, gnashing their teeth and wringing their hands in ever-mounting despair. In our musical community, there is a wealth of ingenuity, varied talents, and a capacity for work – even in times of hardship. I’m so proud of my colleagues and friends; proud to be a musician.
I have realised how much I love my job. It is balm for my soul and a connection with my spirit. I am so lucky to have played the viola for most of my working life. I miss it. But like the phoenix, our performers will rise from the ashes – better, perhaps, and wiser; more profoundly grateful for what we have. I love that the Italians come out on their balconies to make music every evening at 6 o’clock. Music matters.
My heart goes out to those who are undergoing enforced isolation. Semi-isolation is quite enough for me. After a week, I went a bit crazy, so I hopped in my car and drove to Longford to visit a painter friend in his studio. I accidentally came home with not one painting, but two – ostensibly to choose between them. But I have created the Wolfhagen corner in my living room, and may have to buy them both.
Musicians, whether they go forth or stay home, will continue to be creative, enriching the lives of themselves and others
I am lucky that an inheritance has allowed me to do that, but I think it’s important. Grand gestures or small, we can support each other in myriad ways that will warm hearts and never be forgotten. Musicians, whether they go forth or stay home, will continue to be creative, enriching the lives of themselves and others, discovering hitherto unsuspected ways of being in the world.
As the wildlife returns to Venice and blue skies to Wuhan, perhaps we can use this time to rediscover ourselves and appreciate the slowly re-emerging wonder of our planet.
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