I still remember
the specific moment that I truly decided to make music. Don’t get me wrong, I was
pretty much always going to become a musician, that was never really in doubt.
My mom was a pianist and music teacher, I’ve been playing piano since I was able to sit upright (see me and my brother below :-) ) and singing even longer than that—but somehow never made the real conscious decision to make music
until I was 19.
It was in piano class; I was a sophomore in college and my fellow classmates were both grad
students. Maumack had already played, and Helen was up, playing Chopin’s
G-minor Ballade. Just as she hit the coda, something inside me changed—it felt like my heart opened, tears filled my eyes, and my soul was touched in a way that I’d felt before but never so clearly, and I
thought, “I need to do that”. So when it was my turn, I’m sure they were waiting
for me to play my Beethoven 32 Variations basically technically well, but I
made a different choice. I chose to make music, rather than to play every note
correctly. It was a huge moment, and I honestly will never forget the looks of
respect, encouragement, and hope that I saw on my fellow students and my teacher
Ralph Zitterbart’s faces.
The funny thing is, I crashed and burned during that performance! About 2 pages from the end, I
lost my place and couldn’t get back to it, and I ended up stopping. But they
were all so excited and thrilled at the way I had just played that I could see
they knew how far I had come in those 15 minutes.
The moral of the story for
me is—it’s not about getting to the end. It’s about the journey. Take people
with you on that journey and it doesn’t matter what you do or where you end up, just that you
shared it with them.
From that moment
on, my choice has always been to make music—working on technique became the means to that
end, rather than an end in itself. The hardest thing about that choice was that suddenly everything became more
important, and for a very long time I was more nervous than I’d ever been! It’s
one thing to play all the notes right—it’s a whole new ballgame when you
pour your heart and soul into something and people criticize it. I’ve had
singers come in to coachings sometimes where they just sort of sing through the
song, assuming that I’ll correct pitches and diction and style, and technically, yes, that’s my job.
But the pitches and diction and style are all informed and enhanced by the music
you’re trying to make, by the story you're trying to tell, so by committing to that music in every coaching, in
every lesson, everything else will improve. Just as we say singers should mark with
their voice, not their body, singers should mark with their voice, not their intentions.
In this age of
younger, faster, louder, auto-tune, and CDs with single notes corrected or
improved, as musicians it’s important to get back to the basics. Make music.
Share it with people. That’s why people still come to see live
performances—they want to be transported with you. So if you haven’t already
done so, commit to making music, rather than to singing or playing the piano.
In the end, it will pay off a million-fold.
--Ellen
--Ellen
