“The real essence of art turned out not to be something high up and far off. It was right inside my ordinary daily self. The very way one greets people and expresses oneself is art. If a musician wants to become a fine artist, he must first become a finer person. If he does this, his worth will appear. It will appear in everything he does… Art is not in some far-off place. A work of art is the expression of a man’s whole personality, sensibility and ability.” Shinichi Suzuki
Life seems to be a constant search for happiness. Last week saw many people in London and across the UK searching for happiness by means of stealing clothes, electrical goods and anything else they could get hold of. Consumerism leads us to expect a fast-track to happiness. People are measured by what they earn and what they own. Culturally we seem to have misplaced the ideal that a person can be better measured by what he gives.
The previous week saw the Musician’s Union petitioning the TUC on behalf of musicians who it says are often “emotionally blackmailed” into working for free. It specifically refers to charity events where musicians are expected to perform free of charge when other staff such as caterers are being paid. Music is a gift. The best gifts we have are those we give away. But “a work of art is the expression of a man’s whole.” The gift is already intrinsic in the very act of sharing it. The society which has created the moral vacuum which caused the riots of last weekend seems to have lost sight of any sense of true value past the cost of a plasma-screen television. It needs to be appreciated that those who work to become musicians already give. The very act of sharing an experience, a performance and a skill is an act of service.
I am fascinated by the idea of potential. As I’ve studied yoga, meditation and Alexander Technique, so many strands come together and connect in my violin practice. With all of these disciplines I begin to have glimpses of what it is to be truly aware. Occasionally when the technique comes into alignment there’s a moment of absolute consciousness. It’s sometimes called being ‘in flow’ or, in meditation speak, transcending. It’s that feeling when all you’re aware of is the thing that you’re doing; that moment in performance where the ego drops away and all you are doing is communicating the music. But potential has to be worked for. What aligns to cause this heightened consciousness is technique. Technique demands practice. Practice is hard work.
Recently musicians seem to have become a forgotten underclass. Significant cuts to the arts and the country’s focus on the Olympics have made it harder and harder to make a living playing music. There is little Government interest in how much musicians have to offer society, and yes, they are often asked to work for free. It would perhaps have been understandable had we seen a mass gathering of Britain’s orchestral musicians looting Marks and Spencer for sandwiches and ready meals.
In practising to reach a professional standard, musicians work hard to achieve their potential. In doing so they are practising that discipline which is also intrinsic to many spiritual practices such as yoga. From this practice, by its very nature, comes a deeper benefit than mere instrumental skill; there is the opportunity through hard work and self discovery to become a finer person, as Suzuki so beautifully expresses.
Society needs its musicians. In a time where it seems many people are resigned to blaming everyone else for their perceived lack, where people are looking only for what they can take, music is still a gift, and those who give it should be appreciated, respected and yes; paid for their time.
In a destructive time, creativity is of more value than ever.
“I came to the end of my search and realised what art truly is. After I found out, the rest was up to me.” Suzuki
