By Emma Woodward
I was raised as a classical musician.
I did the whole nine: private piano lessons, private violin lessons, years of drumming in a youth percussion band, high school band, All-State orchestra … . To say that music is my life would be an understatement. I still always aimed for a real career, though, don’t you worry.
I planned to study political science in college, maybe even become a lawyer and make a difference. But when COVID stripped live music from me, I felt an immense loss. I remember those first rehearsals back in person felt like coming up for air after a year submerged in silence. I also remember traveling to a ghostly vacant New York City for my college auditions and seeing “Wicked.” Just the prelude from the pit brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. I realized how long it had been since not just hearing live music of such grandeur but sharing the experience with a roomful of strangers whose lives have miraculously merged for just this moment.
I recently spent two weeks in Italy with musicians from all different countries (many “opposing” countries, might I add, at war with each other right now). These artists were once strangers, but music brought our lives into alignment, and the exchange of that music was a kind of healing many of us did not realize we could gain in a time of global turmoil. There is no question that music is a career that will make a difference. But do enough people (non-musicians) actually care?
In my fourth year of studying music here in Knoxville, I often ask myself this question. I perform in symphony orchestras in Oak Ridge, Johnson City and Brevard, and I see the demographic … and it doesn’t exactly look promising. I attend my professor’s recitals, and the audience is barely speckled with people.
Some of the most renowned musicians I have met tell me that it does not matter how many seats are filled, though. They believe that having the opportunity to give a gift to even just one person – to make someone feel something, to have a positive impact on their life – is more than enough to fulfill us as artists. I agree with this entirely. However, as a 21-year-old with friends who don’t know the difference between a violin and a cello, I do feel concerned about the future of classical-music appreciation. I think we as people tend to form ideas in our minds about how things are, what we like, what we don’t … so I encourage you to open your mind (and your ears!) to the unknown. Be curious of the musical world around you; you might be delightfully surprised by what you find.
