Good music doesn’t happen in a vacuum

Yesterday, I took advantage of the beautiful day and drove up to Worcester to meet two friends who are part of my relatively new journey of music creation.  I had lunch with my concert manager, who, aside from gently pushing me for quite awhile to write this blog, offers great help and advice about promoting music that is close to my soul.

Then, I spent the afternoon practicing and composing at another friend’s house:  his Steinway piano is featured on my current recordings, and will be heard on the collection of my music that will be produced this summer. Aside from the all-important quiet space that visiting there provides, we are able to talk and share knowledge about the technical aspects of recording, performing, and composing. (Things like: how can I release the dampers without there being a “hiccup” noise in the recording?, or why does this particular piano’s design make reaching some intervals more difficult?) Then, I can play again with new perspective.

The challenge becomes to take all that is heard and shared and “file it away” — trusting that the mind pulls out that info subconsciously when needed.  I’ve found that the best recorded music happens when the musician can be free to express what’s in the soul without worry.

There is an ever-growing circle of “musical advisors” that constantly help me: these friends, my talented wife, the folks who make music with me regularly (both by singing and listening). The source of music itself is in equal parts confusing and beautiful, and I am grateful that is not up to me alone to figure it out!