Wow. A blog post. I know, I know. It’s been a while.
And that’s kind of the point. As you can see, I’ve been doing some tinkering around here. And I’ve also been doing some tinkering in my head. They’re related, I guess.
The upshot is that, as we all slowly emerge from underneath our lockdown-induced rocks, I’m beginning to come to terms with what strangely feels like a new beginning – as a musician, as an artist, as a creative person. And together with that, I feel inspired to do some long-overdue updates to my website, and also to the software my inner-musician has been running all this time.
I’m sure you, like me, have had a truly difficult journey as the global pandemic swept our world. In my little bubble – that of the musician, conductor and teacher – the landscape was effectively rendered mute almost overnight. It’s been tricky juggling plans, repertoire and programming, as well as income, livelihood and any sense of a career path. But I know it’s been beyond tough for all. And I also know I’ve had it better than most. I still have a roof over my head and work to look forward to. The diary is most definitely filling up (in some cases scarily quickly).
A new beginning – as a musician, as an artist
Despite the difficulties lately, I slowly realised that I was somehow starting to come to terms with who I am as a musician. During the silence, the occasional solitude, the endless hours of cogitation, I was able to check in with bits and pieces of my artistic self that I’d been unable to do for years, decades even. Endless gigs, life on the road, piles of study and admin, always having at least one if not multiple programmes hurtling around in my head – this was all so exhausting, draining even, and I hadn’t stopped to realise it.
But then the world stopped me. Gave me no choice. I did gigs right up until the first lockdown. The final event I gave with SÓN Orchestra was probably the very last time anyone on that stage performed in public for many, many months.
To begin with, I explored everything but music. Gardening. Learning coding. Forex trading. Crypto trading (it’s like the wild west, don’t do it). I kind of pretended I was no longer a musician. Hundreds of my colleagues were posting online, playing micro gigs in their back-garden, or craftily-woven online duets and whatnot. I was both in awe of this – feeling out of my technical depth – and also rather tepid: I simply couldn’t be bothered. I wanted to disappear. I left the ‘music-making’ – online, frankly a bit sterile – to those who did it well, and disappeared down the rabbit hole.

Like kicking leaves in autumn just because you can
Yet, in due course, all this self-reflection reminded me what a musician is, and – whether I always felt like it, or not – that is what I am. As lockdown eased, some of us began stumbling back into rehearsals (more were cancelled than not). No matter what the insecurities were, it felt giddyingly reassuring, like rediscovering that favourite toy, or realising you’re not going to fall when Dad takes the stabilisers off the bike. Or like kicking leaves in autumn just because you can.
Months of silence, of not even breathing or thinking like a musician, showed me how deeply I am one. It turns out I have no choice. It chooses me, not the other way around. And (channelling my inner Bowie) that is that.
So now, because I CAN, I’m surging forwards – here, on my website, with some new blog-posts, and with many exciting new projects. There’s much I can’t share with you right now, but I’ll tell all about things very soon. I’ve got things lined-up connecting music & technology, music & environment (always topical, especially as I’m writing this during COP26) and more conducting teaching and training on the horizon, too.
I want to share more with you as this all picks up, and as I steer into the new unknown – like we’re all doing. I’m going to be writing more here, so please follow my social media – especially on twitter – for updates. I may even start YouTubing or vlogging. Yes, I know, I should have absorbed myself in all these skills during lockdown, but I was too busy navel-gazing. Better late than never.
If I have any tips, it’s to never allow yourself to fester too long before you retreat from the world. At least a little bit. I’ve heard of people who build a personal retreat into their schedule and ring-fence it, protecting it like a medieval castle would from the marauding hoards of regular life. One day a month, one week a year, and so on.
I’ve just done the same myself. Disappeared on my own to a little cottage in deepest Dorset. All artists need to restore. That’s the one, small blessing to come out of the lockdowns – it has offered us no option but to reconnect with ourselves, with our inner voice as artists.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. If you’re an artist or musician – or even if you’re not – how did you spend your time through seemingly endless lockdowns? Did you find opportunity to reflect? And, if you did, what kinds of things did you learn?
Do scroll down and leave a little comment below.
I can’t help thinking that the art (of all kinds) that emerges now and in the coming months is going to be some of the most profound, touching, and reflective in recent decades. Personally, I can’t wait to see, feel, touch and hear it. I may even chuck some of my own into the mix.
Stay well everyone. I’ll write again soon.
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