On Fear

​Dear reader, I'm scared. Worried, stressed, and anxious about The Career Of A Freelance Musician. I live with a man who has a Nice Normal Job, and while he sleeps peacefully, I lie awake thinking about how nobody will ever hire me again.

You know the feeling when you're wide awake, it's way too much o'clock, and you have super constructive thoughts on failing at life? Night is obviously the worst time to think, so I'd strongly recommend you to sleep instead if you can. If you can't, here's two things to do instead: play solitare (there's an app for that, no need for actual playing cards. Very handy if you want to stay in bed while someone next to you is sleeping and would little appreciate lights being switched on) - or read a book. No time to think when doing either. I've tried the Constructive Method of writing my worries down, but that creates an uncomfortable paper trail - read in daylight, all those very serious concerns and fears look more like ramblings of a delusional half-wit.

When there's a quieter period in my calendar, it easily feels like the quiet will last forever. That's when I'm most worried, anyway. Busy is good, even if it sometimes gets close to burnout. (No more of that, now. That's a whole other blog post.) So, ladies and gentlemen. In order for you to feel better about your  saner selves, I'll share some of my delusional ramblings with you. Here are some thoughts that, after midnight, have entered my drama queen of a head:

1. Oh no, I don't have almost anything this ________(insert the current time of year)! I have done my last concerts in life and I'll never get to perform again.

2. They have finally caught me out: I suck at teaching, and I'll soon be fired if all my students won't quit first.

3. People practice and work insane hours and never get tired, and they still go to the gym, only eat beans and have calm, enlightened minds. I'm the only musician who feels worn out after teaching, and who doesn't always (usually) have the energy to excercise and socialize, and who eats popcorn for breakfast.

4. X years ago in that project I  ________________(insert a thing you should've done different), and now everyone that was there hates me and thinks I'm an incompetent nitwit.

5. Next year I can't be a pianist any more because nobody wants to play with me, and I'll probably end up working as a cleaner or cashier except they won't hire me because I'm too lazy and I'll die alone and unemployed. 

6. Everyone else has so many fancy gigs - they all work from morning till night and then party like crazy. I must be the only person in the entire music industry who has days off and watches Netflix.

Don't get me wrong - a lot of the time I'm optimistic about the future, grateful for the projects I've already done, and happy with the stuff I'm currently working on. I know very well that some have more and fancier stuff, and others less. I also know that You Should Not Compare Your Life With Other People's. But seriously, who doesn't? Another wisdom I've heard is Just Work Hard And Things Will Happen. No Need To Worry, Regret, Anything.

Bullshit, I tell you. I exist, therefore I worry. 

Conclusion: A part of being a freelance musician (for me) is being awake on some nights playing solitare on my phone, whilst posting only happy stuff to Instagram. And somehow life just happens to continue, and there just happens to be new mornings, opportunities, and ideas. And new exciting games in Google Play for the sleepless nights to come.

On Stupid Feedback

Writing in 2019 feels like a struggle, so just to get going again I'm coughing up a short text on feedback. I know I already wrote about critique, but this is also about positive things (I promise!). Here goes...

As you all know, we get a lot of feedback, and a lot of it is stupid in my opinion. For me, stupid feedback means comments that are vague, jumping to conclusions, and therefore unhelpful. I don't think people give such feedback on purpose – but we have a tendency to forget that our thoughts aren't audible to other people. Just our words. Also I think music being Great Art creates the need to be all poetic and soulful when commenting on it. Feedback easily slides to the Higher Realms of interpretation, emotions, expressions et cetera, instead of the lowly ways the pianists, for example, choose to push the wooden keys with their mundane little fingers. And one more thing leading the commentators astray: we see other people through our own unique experiences, tending to interpret their behaviour as if they were like us. So if someone acts in a way you would act if you were feeling shy, you probably think that they're feeling shy as well. If they really are feeling shy, then that's great, well observed you! But if they're not shy after all, and instead this is their concentrated face or their tired face, then oops. You go and tell them there's no need for shyness here, and you'll baffle them for sure.

Anyhow, my purpose of writing this is to call for more simplicity, and I seem to be doing the very opposite here. So I'd better move on to some examples now.

Stupid feedback: ”You should express yourself more freely.”

Great feedback: ”To me it sounds like your playing lacks dynamic range and agogics – why not try to exaggerate the dynamic differences and rubatos to make the music less rigid?”

***

Stupid feedback: ”The melody should sing more.”

Great feedback: ”Your legato isn't ideal, because you're interrupting it with unnecessary hand movements. Here's how you could try to move your hand...”

***

Stupid feedback: ”Such a sensitive accompanist!”

Great feedback: ”What a good accompanist – he matched his dynamics so well with the singer, and played with such clever rubatos that it sounded like they were really breathing together.”

***

Stupid feedback: ”You need to be more together!”

Great feedback: ”More eye contact! When you look at each other more often, it makes you look like a team.”

Maybe it's just me, but I'd prefer the latter any day. So what do you think? What is good feedback to you?