On Boxing Day 2020, the New York Times ran an article entitled: ‘A Great Cultural Depression Looms for Legions of Unemployed Performers’. Without concerts or rehearsals, or indeed any reason to take up our instruments, musicians are being forced to reflect on their role in an unknown musical future. Though uncomfortable, this reflection may be long overdue.

For the past nine months, along with Italian balconies and neighbourhood streets, Zoom has been our college, our pub and our concert hall. Online platforms such as InsideOut Musician and The Exhale, initially created to meet the need of musicians to connect during this desperate time, have matured. They have torn down boundaries, creating wide open spaces. They have built communities across the globe, promoting a holistic and healthy approach to music-making, the likes of which we have never seen. In a world where performance has been caught up in greed and consumerism, they are committed to rediscovering the importance of going inwards in order to find authentic outward expression and are leading the way toward a new vision of musical learning for all.

Having taught exclusively online for almost a year, I am convinced this way of working is a gift. It is far from inferior to live interaction and will, in my opinion, always exist as a compliment. Here are just some of the advantages I have experienced:

• With the lack of sound ‘quality’ and unable to perceive nuance, I have come to rely on what I see, becoming attuned more to the quality of my students’ movements. The body does not lie. Whilst any sound can be convincing, a sound that flows freely and organically from the heart through the body is touching, whatever the ‘quality’.

• The lack of physical touch, though initially frustrating, has forced me to interfere less and trust my students more. Used to guiding them through hands-on work, I have instead helped them pay attention to their own somatic experience and the natural wisdom of their bodies.

• I have learned to be less of a teacher and more of a witness. Without the need to project outwards—whether to me, a colleague or audience member, in a hall, theatre or teaching studio—and comfortable in their own space, my students have slowed down and started to listen inwards. Some have found a deeper connection with their creative voice, whilst others located their deeply buried longing to make sound.

• An online platform can be truly inclusive in a way an institution or concert hall often cannot. Discussions, groups, ceilidhs, concerts and one-to-ones in ‘Café Zoom’ provide opportunities to find connections through music across age, level, continent and culture. Music online doesn’t have a snob factor. It is an equaliser.

‘’The word ‘musician’ is too often used to discourage people from participating in their birth right as sound-makers’  – Mark Stewart, Cellist, Guitarist, Paul Simon Band, Founder of Bang on a Can

On Boxing Day 2020, the same day as the New York Times article appeared heralding a depression, we were sharing a late lunch at our home in the South of France. It was already dark. The candles were lit, and the carol sheets spread upon the table. Suddenly, somewhere in between In The Bleak Midwinter and Hark the Herald Angels Sing, a voice boomed out:

Che bella cosa na jurnata ’e sole,
n’aria serena doppo na tempesta!…

Alexander, an opera singer from Paris would never, until this moment, have sung spontaneously for others. After nine months of near silence and isolation, however, it didn’t matter how, when, where or for whom it was going to happen. This musician had to express the voice inside him. It was a powerful moment to witness.

I believe there is gold in this pause we have been forced to make. Perhaps the words ‘lock down’ contain within them their opposite—open up? Perhaps this period of going inwards will, if we can rise to the challenge, herald a period of great cultural expression? I hope so.

Inside-Out Meditation

• Take a moment to sit comfortably. Close your eyes and allow the breath to enter and leave your body. Allow the muscles around the eyes to release. Let the eyeballs sink back and down in their sockets. Let your eyes cease their looking and seeing. Invite inner listening.
• Try and feel each part of your body from the inside-out. Notice if you sense any tingling, pulsing or vibrating. Feel the life that is coursing through you.
• As you imagine taking up your instrument, notice any micro changes that occur. Is tension creeping in? What happens to your breath? In your hands? What thoughts arise?
• Gently take up your instrument. Notice what happens to your breathing in the areas where your instrument meets your body. Does it change?
• Sit (or stand) with your instrument. Scan your body once more. Take your time. Is there inner movement? If so, where is it? Hands? Belly? Throat? Feet? In the silence, is there a sound?
• If you feel a movement towards sound-making, can you follow it? How does it travel through you? Can you resist interfering? Allow it to move through your body and into sound. Even if it is one simple note, let yourself feel the wonder at the music that can flow from you into the room and beyond. Listen to it with your whole being.