Last weekend the pianist Paul Helmer and I played a short recital as part of Montreal’s citywide “Journées de la culture,” an annual weekend when all sorts of institutions and organizations open their doors and invite the public for free. My friend Sheena Gourlay coordinated the cathedral’s offerings, which included a Saturday afternoon “Collegium Musicum” – an eclectic mix of musical, dance, and spoken word performances. Paul and I played a 15-minute set: the four-movement Sonata for Flute in a minor by Handel, followed by Sicilienne, by Gabriel Fauré, from his suite Pelleas et Melisande. A little while later in the program, I played Vocalise by Arno Babajamian with pianist Sam Keuchgarian, who had also brought two Armenian singers and a troupe of Armenian folk dancers to perform.
The center pews of the cathedral were filled with an appreciative crowd of visitors, who came and went during the afternoon, and the atmosphere was fairly relaxed. Not a big deal, one might think. But it was for me, since it was the first time I’d performed music like this as a soloist for, well, just about exactly fifty years. As I’ve written here recently, I took up the flute again last year and bought a new, considerably better instrument. After practicing daily to get some technique and my embouchure back, I worked hard for about six months with a fine accompanist, Mouse Elisedd, who I met through the Taizé services, and we were planning to do this September event together. Unfortunately, this summer they developed some health issues and had to withdraw, so our other Taizé pianist said he would step in. Paul Helmer, now in his 80s, has had a long and illustrious career as a solo artist and accompanist, and as a musicologist at McGill; like Mouse, he’s a fellow parishioner at the cathedral and we’ve worked together on the music committee there. I was very fortunate to be able to play with him and benefit from his knowledge, experience, and encouragement.
So, what kind of experience was this first outing? Did I suffer from the debilitating stage fright that was a big factor in keeping me from pursuing a more serious music career when I was young? Would my hands shake and sweat, would I suddenly have much less breath than I needed? This fear had been a factor for me not just as an adolescent, but in my 40s when I studied piano and voice and did some solo work. So I had worried about that, but it didn’t materialize. Playing every week for Taizé, months of practicing in the church with lots of people coming in and out, and all these years of experience performing with the choir, under quite a bit of pressure, must have helped. I knew I was well-prepared, and I also knew it probably wouldn’t be perfect. I was motivated to do my best, and to get past this hurdle of a first performance. There was another factor: I’m a lot older now, and I have a different attitude. Enjoying the moment, trying to give music that I love to an audience, and being fully present to myself and to the music felt far more important to me than other people’s judgements. Not much was at stake; it wasn’t an audition; there weren’t any reviewers out there.
In the end, I felt I played a bit better in the rehearsal than in the performance, but that’s OK. In the recording, I can hear myself settle into the music partway through the first movement; the intonation improves too. There were technical problems with the piano’s action that need to be addressed and it wasn’t perfectly in tune; both of the pianists I played with were struggling with the instrument and I could feel and hear that during the performance: there’s a lot that goes on in real time, and not all of it is predictable. All in all, going into the performance, I was more excited than scared, and coming out of it, I was proud of myself for rising to what I knew, even if few others did, was a big personal challenge.
The lesson in this is: you’re never too old to start something, or begin something again that you once loved or have always wanted to do. It takes work and dedication, and some courage, but you can do it. I feel inspired by Paul, too, who is a decade older than I am but still plays extremely well, bringing good physical stamina and a keen intelligence and focus to his playing. Now I’m glad the pressure is off, and, at the same time, anxious to work on some new music and keep at it.