After Months of Covid Darkness, Performers are Expressing Themselves Once Again

 

For many folks, the Covid pandemic lockdown did not make a big difference to their daily work life. Given the technology now available, working on computers in the family room allowed them to do most of the tasks required of them back in their offices. Some even preferred the “new normal” of going to work, dressed in jammies with a dog at their feet.

But that’s not the case for performing musicians. Working remotely is not an option for a concert soloist. 

The pandemic denied these artists more than not being able to do their job. It limited the very essence of how they communicate emotions and feelings to others.

Michigan State University saxophone professor Joe Lullof said, “Music is a collaboration – the performer with the audience.  Then the audience responds back to you and it all means something. We pass it forward through music.

“Without the outlet of playing music for other people, we can’t express ourselves fully.  Something has been taken away.”

Recently I attended the solo recital of Michigan State University flute professor Richard Sherman.  Before the concert began, a thoughtful Sherman strode to center stage and said, “This is my first recital in 18 months.” Throughout the evening, it was apparent how meaningful this concert was for him. 

He had changed as a performer over the months of not playing. His tone seemed warmer and more expressive, and his performance was intensely personal. 

The music he chose for the concert was a musical journey designed to introduce the audience to the world of live music listening again.

The first piece the flutist programmed was the evocative and ethereal “Song of the Eel” by Sarah Bassingthwaighte – a perfect introduction. Then the soloist played three tuneful and familiar Debussy pieces – beautiful but not too challenging for the audience.  Following the Debussy was a traditional recital piece (Suite Modal) by Ernest Bloch – something a bit more serious. The program ended with a knockout - the powerhouse of all sonatas, the Cesar Franck A Major Sonata, transcribed for flute from the original violin.  

The audience took it all in and Sherman threw himself into each piece with passion.

Sherman lives a very busy musical life.  He gives recitals, teaches a full studio of students, presents master classes in a variety of far-flung cities, is principal flutist in three orchestras, and is artistic director for two chamber music groups.  That’s a lot of musical activity that suddenly came to an abrupt halt. It was a shock to the system.

Lulloff spoke about his difficult year bereft of performances. He admitted “I went through some dark times for a few months.  My family really helped me out of it.”

Lulloff said, “I didn’t play at all for five weeks.  People like me are so project oriented – concerts, students, recordings – one to another.  And all of the sudden there is nothing.  It’s like someone cuts off your arm.”

Sherman said, “We all have an introverted side but there must be a balance. Yes, you practice on your own for hours, but there has to be a summation to all that practice.  We must be able to play for other people.”

The flutist said that to take away the performances from the equation makes you feel disconnected.

To make up for not performing in front of people, Sherman went back to his roots. As an undergrad music student, he had a double major – flute and piano.

Although he hadn’t played piano in decades, the pandemic provided him a path to go back and explore the keyboard again.  His teachers were colleagues from the music faculty who he got to know in much a deeper way.

Playing piano enabled him to make music with other people while being masked rather than blowing lots of air through an open silver tube. Sherman said, “I immersed myself in piano playing.” One of his teachers, Deborah Moriarty, ended up being his accompanist for this concert

The concert appeared to be an emotional experience for him and the entire audience.  The next day, Sherman told me, “I was so emotional while playing the music that I had to pull myself back sometimes.  I was on the verge of tears.”

Lulloff played his first recital one week earlier. “I couldn’t wait to do my recital, he said. “And when it was over, I couldn’t get to sleep until 2 AM.  It was a peak experience for me.”

Now that concert halls are open again and music will be played, musicians will again be able to express themselves and audiences will be able to experience the joy they have dearly missed over the past months.